OCCOM BILL wrote:My limited experience with South Koreans suggests a very different culture as well. A statement in Korean like "I'm older than you, you must listen to me" seems to get compliance, even from near strangers. The older of two twins has parent-like status over his minute's younger sibling. I was once severely chastised by my Korean friend/employer for smoking in front of an older Korean (we were outside, and we had just met the man incidentally) because he declined a cigarette. This, apparently, is terribly disrespectful. Overall; I have the sense that a great deal more emphasis is put on respect than openness in their culture... meaning the younger man with the dissenting opinion had best keep it to himself, or else.
I spent more than a year in Korea during my three years in the army. That was more than 30 years ago, but i recall Korea and the Koreans fondly. I even learned to speak some Korean, and to read enough to read a bus schedule and get around a little (in the 9th Century, a Korean "King" created an alphabet for them, because otherwise a Korean had to learn Chinese in order to write--that's a godsend to Westerners who want to learn Korean).
I learned that there were three forms of address. The form of address which one uses when speaking to children and dumb animals; the form of address one uses when speaking to people of (roughly) equivalent age; the form of address one uses when speaking to elders, who are, almost without exception, to be treated with an elaborate respect. There is also a very highly developed sense of extended family. So, for example, in a small village, you would treat everyone as though a member of your own family, you simply would show more deference and consideration to those to whom you were actually related by blood or marriage. Therefore, as soon as you are even casually acquainted with a member of your own generation, you address them as "brother" or "sister" and use the speech forms common to an equal within one's own family. All elderly persons are treated with an elaborate courtesy, and treated as though they were related by blood. Even with a complete stranger, one addresses them as "grandfather" or "grandmother." With someone who is old enough to command your respect, but not old enough to be considered truly elderly, you usually address them as "uncle" or "aunt."
There are even degrees of deference within those categories. You would say "old respected grandfather" to an elderly man to whom you
are related, or simply if you wished to make a point of your respect for him. To indicate close relation or respect to an older person who is not actually elderly, you might say "respected uncle" or "respected aunt."
I add the caveat that this was more than 30 years ago, and long before Korea became affluent and adopted a more urban culture (of course, there were many large cities in Korea then, but not a lot of really affluent people--most people lived on very little by our standards in the early 1970s). But, this was my experience of how they viewed public and private behavior.
It would be unbearable shame to publicly admit to being homeless, indigent, or insane. This is because such people were (long ago) considered to be afflicted by devils, and to be avoided so as not to risk contamination. Even knowing that, Koreans in the 1970s still had that kind of reaction to people--but it was tied up with "strangeness." If someone in your family were mentally ill, it would be publicly referred to as an ordinary illness which resisted the efforts of the doctors. Everyone would understand, but no one would be rude enough directly allude to it, lest one bring shame on the family, which would cause for bitter hatred. At the same time, to be so poor as to be indigent, or to be homeless, would be a condemnation of the entire family, since families would be expected to find a place for everyone, even if it were only a mat in the corner. Old relatives who had no children could still expect to get their "rice bowl," meaning they would be fed each day, and given a corner to sleep in, for which they might be expected to do some small menial tasks, such as sweeping the court yard, or sprinkling water to lay the dust. Such a person might only be addressed as "grandmother" rather than "respected grandmother" or "old respected grandmother," but the still would have a place, and modicum of respect. The rice bowl is such a sacred institution that if you decided, well i'll help the old girl out and sweep the court yard for her, she would become irate, and everyone around would agree with her, because your action would be seen as "breaking her rice bowl." (The Koreans called civil service "the iron rice bowl," because you could lazy and worthless as doggie poop, and you wouldn't get fired.)
But it definitely is a village mentality, even when applied to neighborhoods in a city. Everyone knows you don't have to show any respect to those barbaric savages from that village on the other side of the mountain (or the other side of the highway in a city), those damned heathens. They all crazy, you know. Decent folks don't go there, because you might catch a devil. The place is overrun with devils and ghosts. (When i was there, even though young Koreans laughed at the stories of old timers about devils and ghosts, Korean movies about devils and ghosts were the most popular, and a movie about a doomed love affair between a beautiful young couple who were haunted and plagued by devils would be a barn burner at the box office.)
Nothing worse could be imagined than being homeless and indigent. It meant not only were you shamed, and probably either inflicted with a devil or haunted, it meant you family was shamed, because they couldn't provide you a rice bowl. A family would likely try to drive such a person from the neighborhood so as not to shame the family. The word i learned for "lies" was "kujimara" (long time ago, i don't allege that's exactly right), which means "beggar's talk." It is automatically assumed that beggars are liars. The Koreans i knew would try to get past a beggar while pretending he or she did not exist, and if they couldn't, they'd throw money down, so that they could get away without the beggar touching them, which might give the devil that plauged the beggar, or the ghost that haunted him or her a chance to latch on to them.
Once again, this was all more than 30 years ago, and is a description of what i saw among a largely rural population--even the city dwellers were often newly arrived from the country. At that time Korean farmers earned about $100 a year (1971 statistic which i read somewhere, i forget), and concentrated on raising enough to fill everyone's rice bowl--they even paid their taxes in kind, usually rice, because only the wealthiest peasants could afford to keep livestock bigger than chickens. Things may have changed considerably since that time, and could not have been said to be universally applicable even then.