Exotica: Why I Love Living Abroad

Living in a foreign culture can be a visceral existence to say the least. There's never a dull moment. Around every corner there's a confounding curiosity, an exchange highlighted by a smile, or perhaps an ambiguous glance.  You may need that figurative playbook, the one you keep in your back pocket or purse, to help you translate what just happened. 

My favorite scene from the movie Ghostbusters ironically may shed some insight. It's the one where Bill Murray's character, Dr. Peter Venkman, knocks on the apartment door of Sigourney Weaver, playing a woman possessed by the devil. She opens the door, seething from her dark world. He meanders in, in his capacity as world class ghostbuster. Weaver immediately starts coming on to him in her devilish stupor. Now splayed across her huge bed, he pushes her away, proclaiming, "I have a rule never to have sex with a possessed woman." Not easily deterred, Weaver continues trying to sexually overwhelm Murray. Suddenly, he sits up and says with a sly smile, "Well, maybe it's more of a guideline."

Sigourney Weaver in Ghostbusters. Living in a foreign country requires navigating
the often unclear rules and guidelines of a culture

Seeking to understand the rules and guidelines of a place is part and parcel of living abroad. It's the caffeine in the experience. How does a place work? What are the rules and laws? What is it they might drag me away for? Just as important, are the informal guidelines of the culture--the routine expectations one needs to know to navigate day-in and day-out without leaving too large of an expat wake that unsettles the natives' boats.

Back home, the rules and guidelines are more intuitive. Nearly all the background chatter is intelligible to my senses. My knowledge of where the boundaries lie, and where the footing might be soft, saves me from cascading over a cultural cliff. Life is normative, not exotic.

One time in Korea, decades ago, I had missed all the signs, literally and figuratively. A friend and I were walking along a isolated, pebbly beach. We were lost in a world of our own. Suddenly there were screams, unrecognizable yelling, all of it in Korean. Soldiers came rushing toward us demanding that we come to a halt. We had been walking along a beach mined to protect that part of the coastline from North Korean infiltrators. We had been oblivious to all known rules and guidelines. Luckily, we lived to see another adventure.

The cultural landscape can be riddled with social "landmines"

Less dangerous, but still highly stimulating are the more mundane encounters of life in a foreign culture. What's the guideline, for example, when during a rare quiet moment on a tour of the DPRK, your North Korean tour guide who, until that moment had been distant and staunchly pro-North Korean, turns speaking in a low voice, to talk about her personal life?  Handling this awkward encounter was not mentioned in our pre-tour briefing.

Once, while walking on a busy downtown street, clothed in my youth and naivety, a new Korean buddy reached across our cultural divide to hold my hand. Chills of embarrassment ran up and down my spine. The idea of two guys holding hands in public pushed me way out of my comfort zone. The guideline here, of course, was that its quite normal for Korean friends of the same sex to hold hands.

These experiences, sometimes significant, but more typically innocuous, occur on a daily basis living in a foreign place. They become exotica, objects considered strange or interesting, because they are out of the ordinary, your ordinary. They make living overseas unrelentingly stimulating.

Having spent many years living and working in so-called foreign cultures, thoughts of returning home raise perplexing quandaries. Will life be as exciting, or even as interesting? Will I miss the familiar smells and sounds that have come to define my life in Korea? Will my life be less exotic, and does that even matter?

I don't imagine I will ever lose the wanderlust that flows through every fiber of my being. Nor, the thrill of discovering the peculiar rules and guidelines of distant places. In the spirit of ghostbusting, I trust there will always be doors too tempting not to open. 

A Cardinal Rule

This is not a blog post about bagels, although it could be. And it's beside the fact that you cannot find an authentic bagel in South Korea. But, truth be told, I am a sucker for a good bagel.

Real bagels

Recently, an article about bagels caught my eye. The author was searching for the best bagel in San Francisco. Suddenly, he took a literary side trip and claimed that the best bagels anywhere could be found in New York City and Montreal. Having eaten remarkable bagels in both those cities, I supposed that case could be made. Then came his extraordinary proclamation, "If there is one golden rule for good bagels," he said, "It is this: A good bagel shall not require toasting. All else follows."

That may ignite an interesting debate and perhaps it should. But as I said, this post is not about bagels. It is (as the title suggests) about rules. Not just any rules, but Cardinal rules. A Cardinal rule, according to the Urban Dictionary, "is a substantial rule that is in place in a situation or organization. And it must not be broken anytime." OK, that's pretty darn clear.

Now one situation that every expat here in Korea has observed is Koreans wearing attire with English inscriptions. Much has been said about this phenomenon. Certainly, much has been seen. But one component has heretofore been lacking. That is, a relevant Cardinal rule to accompany this dynamic. For nearly every time that I have asked one of my students or a passerby on the street about the meaning of the English inscription on their gear, the response has almost always been the same, "I have no idea what it means. I just like the style."

OK, time for the minting of the applicable Cardinal rule: "No person anywhere should ever wear an article of clothing without knowing the meaning of the inscription that may be contained therein." This could easily be hazardous to your halo, or at least to your ego.

Sometimes the infractions are harmless enough.

Other times however, people may be pushing the boundary.

Once, a coed in one of my classes was wearing a very attractive sweater. I walked over to observe how she was doing during an in-class assignment. Looking at what she was writing from the row behind, I noticed that the words "Fuck Me" were woven into the top part of her shoulders. Whoa, I thought. "Excuse me, do you know what's written on your shoulders?" I asked. "No professor," she answered coyly. "What's written on that sweater is not appropriate. Please do not wear it again to my class."

Sometimes the inscriptions are a stretch. Is she talking figuratively? Or, is this about pizza?

                                What?!?

Can you repeat that?

OK, sometimes I must admit, these musings might make sense.

Well, I am sorry to hear this.

Yes, you are!

Ah students, and Korean friends, my heed I know you will not take. "Style" points in Korea, trump any advice I may offer. I understand full well. Nonetheless, I repeat my Cardinal rule: "No person anywhere should ever wear an article of clothing without knowing the meaning of the inscription that may be contained therein." The risk you take is yours alone.

I am reminded of that great scene from the movie classic, "Ghostbusters." Sigourney Weaver, possessed by the devil, is coming on to ghostbuster, Bill Murray. He halfheartedly pushes her away. "I have a rule," he says, "never to get involved with possessed people." She ignores Murray and continues her aggressive pursuit. Murray reconsiders. "Well, maybe it's more of a guideline than a rule." Rules vs. guidelines, never to be confused again.

Now for the rest of you, guidelines aside, what Cardinal rules help you meander your way through your life? What's a Cardinal rule you might offer the masses? Bill Murray is curious. So are we. Bagel anyone?