Today I went looking for a bra. Nothing fancy. Nothing covered in rhinestones or loaded down with five inches of padding. I just needed a unit of cloth that would keep these extensions on the front of my chest under control. I thought this would be a simple enough quest, but I soon found out this was very naïve.
Have I mentioned how much the Koreans like bright and shiny objects? This goes for everything…including underwear. I felt like I had walked into a discoteca when I found a store specializing in women’s lingerie. I was first attacked by the sales woman who just stalked me as I searched through the goods in hopes that I might something functional rather than just decorative. Unfortunately, as I searched I felt my head start to spin with all of the glitter floating around my head and all of the padding pressing down around me. Most of these bra’s were stuffed to the rim. I can’t imagine how disappointed the men of Korea are upon removal of these over the shoulder boulder holders…and that is what they were. It wasn’t the breast that the straps are weighed down with but rather the massive amount of cotton-polyester blend strapped to the the front of it.
Maybe they can use this for toilet paper? There is never any toilet paper in the bathrooms here. That is the only reasonable explanation I could find for stuffing a bra with so much padding.
I had to leave. I soon came upon another store and I thought it might offer a bit of hope, but alas, my entrance was doomed from the beginning. I had to leave there as soon as I entered for fear that I might pass out from the all the sparkles and glitter that greeted my eyes and the really loud Korean pop music that assailed my ears. I persevered. I tried one more store.
Same story, minus the music but replaced with even more viligent shop keepers.
I turned up my I-pod and I stopped off at a café. I took a deep breath and decided to head back to the subway. Attached to the subway is a huge department store called Lotte mart. I thought, “what the heck, it’s worth a try.”
So in I went. I noticed less emphasis on glitter in this place and this gave me enough hope to continue on and find the women’s department. I lost a little bit of resolve when I passed by the shoe department and was once again assailed by tacky shoes with bows, buckles, glitter and of course a height and selection heels that exist to keep chiropractors in business. I was almost trampled by a mob of people coming down the escalator, but I am a fighter and finally I found the department I needed at the other end of the store.
My efforts would not be in vain here. I took a quick glance around and saw that yes, this was a place for sensible and serious bra shoppers. I had no idea how serious of a place this was until I was practically molested by the sales associate.
In a mix of charades and broken English I told her what I was looking for and with a tape measure in hand she whisked me off to the dressing room and measured me. It was a little forward but necessary. I figured the sizes are different in Korea, getting measured was a good idea. However, when I picked a few articles to try on this woman actually came into the dressing room with me. I’ve heard this happens with bra fittings but the language barrier between us made it too complicated for me to make a big deal out of it. I had finally found a few bras that didn’t scream “Las Vegas” or that could second as a flotation device. I wasn’t going to let those pass me by.
Not only did this sales associate proceed to put the bra on me, she totally pushed and pulled and moved around these flabs of flesh people call breasts until she felt they were situated properly. She did this with each fitting. She directed me with firm pointing and short grunts to take my shirt off, put it on, try this bra on, take this bra off…etc. She was just so matter of fact about it I couldn’t protest. Maybe it was just because it was the end to a long weekend and I was feeling a little punchy from all of the glitz that had assailed me earlier, but I found myself just smirking. It’s funny what becomes acceptable when you become a stranger in a strange land. It should have been super awkward. I should have felt shy at the very least, but this was this woman’s job and she took it very seriously. Who was I too stand in the way of quality service?
I am proud to say that I succeeded in my quest. Not only did I find a functional, unpresumptuous concoction of wires, cloth and straps, I got a free fondling to boot.
Who can complain about that?
Peace!
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
Little Boys
I am so sick of little boys who are too scared to say hello and too scared to let me go. I am so sick of little boys who front like they don't have a care in the world but cry the moment I bump their ego. I am sick of the shallow emptiness of first date conversation. I am tired of saying no and feeling ashamed and guilty for not feeling the same way. I am bored to tears with boys who like to appear smarter, stronger, wiser, more successful than they really are. I don't care. I don't care. I DO NOT care about how much money you make. I DO NOT care about how amazing you are and how you kicked the ass of so and so in a bar one time back in college. Or even worse, I DO NOT care about how you kicked the ass of so and so on the latest computer game! Oh, and please, your supposedly witty and sarcastic comment about the way I look was not funny, it was childish and mean. Are you still in middle school? Have you not learned how to give a genuine original compliment?
God PLEASE I need someone to challenge me!
Every date I go on I feel like I am looking after some five year old and I dread the tantrum, or worse, the moping, at the end of the night when I tell them that they get no treat for their good behavior. I am sick of listening patiently to them stroke their own ego and politely refusing to encourage them by ignoring the fishing line they keep throwing out for compliments.
Are they really all this insecure? This one dimensional?
I need someone to match me in my passion for life. My passion for living. My passion for loving and simply being. It disturbs me that it seems so much of this desire for life fizzled out and died when I left college. I guess it's true that the working man is a dying man. I don't want to be that. I don't want to be around that. I need a fire to feed my fire. I need someone to pique my curiosity.
But more than that, I need someone secure enough in himself so that I too might feel safe. How on earth is love supposed to develop and grow if it at all feels unsafe and exposed to the storms and disasters of life. A bit of shelter is necessary and I am so sick of having to be the one to fix and provide that shelter. I just want to rest. I want to rest from myself and the world, but how can I do that if the one I am supposed to love is nothing more than just another being I have to help breathe?
God PLEASE I need someone to challenge me!
Every date I go on I feel like I am looking after some five year old and I dread the tantrum, or worse, the moping, at the end of the night when I tell them that they get no treat for their good behavior. I am sick of listening patiently to them stroke their own ego and politely refusing to encourage them by ignoring the fishing line they keep throwing out for compliments.
Are they really all this insecure? This one dimensional?
I need someone to match me in my passion for life. My passion for living. My passion for loving and simply being. It disturbs me that it seems so much of this desire for life fizzled out and died when I left college. I guess it's true that the working man is a dying man. I don't want to be that. I don't want to be around that. I need a fire to feed my fire. I need someone to pique my curiosity.
But more than that, I need someone secure enough in himself so that I too might feel safe. How on earth is love supposed to develop and grow if it at all feels unsafe and exposed to the storms and disasters of life. A bit of shelter is necessary and I am so sick of having to be the one to fix and provide that shelter. I just want to rest. I want to rest from myself and the world, but how can I do that if the one I am supposed to love is nothing more than just another being I have to help breathe?
Monday, November 10, 2008
a word on happiness and vaginas
"happiness exists in giving away what we want the most"
-Eve Ensler (author of vagina monologues)
I've been spending the evening watching TED soaking up and gorging myself on all kinds of clips covering topics like scent, creativity and happiness. Eve's clip hit me the hardest.
As an ardent feminist who found a kinship, connection and laughter in each one of Eve's monologues I was thrilled when I saw her featured on the lecture series. She started off with a monologue and then went into how she herself, through travels and testimonials, became witness to much suffering. However, in spite of the odds that seemed stacked against women and their right to exist in equality, she was inspired. Here, in places where "women's bones are washed up next to broken coke bottle" there were "Vagina Warriors" taking up the sword of justice and the balm of mercy. She cites one example of one lonely women in Africa who took up the call to arms and is fighting, successfully, against the practice of female mutiliation with education and patience.
The human spirit truly is a beautiful thing.
And this is all wonderful, but what really caught me was the quote that Even ended her talk with. It made me ponder my own desires and what it is that I want the most and what it is that must give away in order to achieve this desire.
I went through a list that went something like this:
Freedom
Freedom
Freedom
Oh, and did I mention, Freedom?
The only issue is that I simply cannot fathom how giving that up in any way shape or form could help me to achieve it. I have spent my whole life fighting for it. I have spent hours upon hours in libries, jobs, churches, conversation, internet etc. trying to find, stregthen and secure my freedom.
To be more specific, I want the freedom to choose.
I want the freedom to choose my job, my location, my thoughts, my love.
I even remember as a young child on the school bus telling one of my girlfriends that, "I wanted a good job so that I could make enough money so that I could pick my husband and not care about how much money he made."
Isn't that a bit ridiculous that a child of 12 should be thinking like that?
I abhore the title of "girlfriend" and steer clear of anything that might resemble a relationship beyond friendship. I love my freedom and I hate feeling trapped by the fear that I might hurt someone because I no longer feel "love" for them....which is silly. I will always love anyone, but I may not want to be attached to them. I may want to fly off and be alone for a while. I may want to fly off and be with someone else. I would love to fly back to that person, but the culture we live in dictates that when those ties are broken we must either ignore them or try retying them ...which all seems rather frusterating since they only end up being broken again. Why can't we all just connect with "wireless?"
Anyhoo...that is my thought. That is my dilema. I can't decide what this all means. Should I allow myself to fall into the category of "girlfriend?" I know plenty of men who would like to label me as such (and I know that sounds stuck up, but guys only want a girl until she says "yes") Or, perhaps, giving up my freedom is something a little harder to grasp...so much so, I can't quite put my finger on it.
Hopefully it will come to me.
Until then....
-Eve Ensler (author of vagina monologues)
I've been spending the evening watching TED soaking up and gorging myself on all kinds of clips covering topics like scent, creativity and happiness. Eve's clip hit me the hardest.
As an ardent feminist who found a kinship, connection and laughter in each one of Eve's monologues I was thrilled when I saw her featured on the lecture series. She started off with a monologue and then went into how she herself, through travels and testimonials, became witness to much suffering. However, in spite of the odds that seemed stacked against women and their right to exist in equality, she was inspired. Here, in places where "women's bones are washed up next to broken coke bottle" there were "Vagina Warriors" taking up the sword of justice and the balm of mercy. She cites one example of one lonely women in Africa who took up the call to arms and is fighting, successfully, against the practice of female mutiliation with education and patience.
The human spirit truly is a beautiful thing.
And this is all wonderful, but what really caught me was the quote that Even ended her talk with. It made me ponder my own desires and what it is that I want the most and what it is that must give away in order to achieve this desire.
I went through a list that went something like this:
Freedom
Freedom
Freedom
Oh, and did I mention, Freedom?
The only issue is that I simply cannot fathom how giving that up in any way shape or form could help me to achieve it. I have spent my whole life fighting for it. I have spent hours upon hours in libries, jobs, churches, conversation, internet etc. trying to find, stregthen and secure my freedom.
To be more specific, I want the freedom to choose.
I want the freedom to choose my job, my location, my thoughts, my love.
I even remember as a young child on the school bus telling one of my girlfriends that, "I wanted a good job so that I could make enough money so that I could pick my husband and not care about how much money he made."
Isn't that a bit ridiculous that a child of 12 should be thinking like that?
I abhore the title of "girlfriend" and steer clear of anything that might resemble a relationship beyond friendship. I love my freedom and I hate feeling trapped by the fear that I might hurt someone because I no longer feel "love" for them....which is silly. I will always love anyone, but I may not want to be attached to them. I may want to fly off and be alone for a while. I may want to fly off and be with someone else. I would love to fly back to that person, but the culture we live in dictates that when those ties are broken we must either ignore them or try retying them ...which all seems rather frusterating since they only end up being broken again. Why can't we all just connect with "wireless?"
Anyhoo...that is my thought. That is my dilema. I can't decide what this all means. Should I allow myself to fall into the category of "girlfriend?" I know plenty of men who would like to label me as such (and I know that sounds stuck up, but guys only want a girl until she says "yes") Or, perhaps, giving up my freedom is something a little harder to grasp...so much so, I can't quite put my finger on it.
Hopefully it will come to me.
Until then....
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
At the Core People are Good
http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/ben_dunlap_talks_about_a_passionate_life.html
I really liked his tidbit about the human desire and quest for learning and that it is this zeal to quench the thirst of curiosity that makes life worth living.
Of course, one might argue that's a very western way of thinking (I've been reading Geography of Thought) and that the Easterners have a completely different take on that...as well as the need for personal responsibility and happiness, but whatever. There was a time when I would really try to synthesize all forms of thought into this single mind of mine, but the fact of the matter is that I happen to be a westerner. I was born and raised in Kansas and as a result, I enjoy spending my days asking and contemplating the hows and why's, no matter how impractical or inapplicable they seem.
Woot for curiosity!
I really liked his tidbit about the human desire and quest for learning and that it is this zeal to quench the thirst of curiosity that makes life worth living.
Of course, one might argue that's a very western way of thinking (I've been reading Geography of Thought) and that the Easterners have a completely different take on that...as well as the need for personal responsibility and happiness, but whatever. There was a time when I would really try to synthesize all forms of thought into this single mind of mine, but the fact of the matter is that I happen to be a westerner. I was born and raised in Kansas and as a result, I enjoy spending my days asking and contemplating the hows and why's, no matter how impractical or inapplicable they seem.
Woot for curiosity!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Feminism Outdated?
This is for all of those who would claim that feminism is outdated or perhaps even dead. For the sake of women and men alike, I surely hope it is not.
http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/isabel_allende_tells_tales_of_passion.html
Every individual carries within them the light of change and revolution. May we not forget that and continue to fight for equality and dignity for ALL human beings, regardless of race, gender, age or economic status. This is really quite simple, all it takes is a voice and the courage to use it. Once spoken I believe that we would be amazed just how many other voices will join with that voice. Just imagine, one voice convinces one voice and than that voice is joined with another voice and those voices than join with other voices...and you get the picture. What happens is a movement of beauty and peace is created and that is definately something worth talking about.
Viva la feminista!
http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/isabel_allende_tells_tales_of_passion.html
Every individual carries within them the light of change and revolution. May we not forget that and continue to fight for equality and dignity for ALL human beings, regardless of race, gender, age or economic status. This is really quite simple, all it takes is a voice and the courage to use it. Once spoken I believe that we would be amazed just how many other voices will join with that voice. Just imagine, one voice convinces one voice and than that voice is joined with another voice and those voices than join with other voices...and you get the picture. What happens is a movement of beauty and peace is created and that is definately something worth talking about.
Viva la feminista!
Just ignore the smoke...
Well it is a cold, rainy and nasty day here in Korea, which has given me the perfect excuse to curl up with yet another Paulo Coehlo book and waste the day away in my comfy WARM apartment.
Quick Update:
Last weekend I went to the horse races, lost my phone, danced the night away…again, ate some REAL chocolate cake, got a great shot if the Seoul Tower from the rooftop of the Soonhawk Women’s University, and ended the night waiting with Joey for the 6am train. We had intended to just stay the night at the local Jimjillbong (which is like a community bathhouse that allows people to stay the night on little mats strewn about a very large sauna), but something caught fire in the sauna which caused the whole area to fill with smoke. We got a refund, but there were still plenty of other people sleeping there since they had turned off the alarm. I guess there rational was purely bureaucratic. We were told that if the fire department showed up again they would be forced to shut down. Again, where is the logic here? I have to think that having to carry out a couple dead bodies that stopped functioning due to smoke inhalation would be a worse situation than having to deal with the fire department, but I’m just a crazy American, what do I know?
Classes were great this week because all of the students were having tests in the public schools which knocked out about 5 kids per class since they take their tests very seriously and needed to stay up studying for them rather attending the Hagwon. It was so peaceful and as much as I feel bad for the torture these kids have to go through with testing, I am eagerly looking forward to the next session, which is bound to happen soon. The Koreans love their tests. After an e-mail mom sent me an e-mail about Korean tests being delivered in an armor truck. Intrigued, I talked with Joey about it and he confirmed the test mania/paranoia. I guess at his University they put the entire building where the tests are held, on lock down and only a select group of people are allowed to enter through one door only. All this for a bunch of multiple choice questions that these kids won’t remember the moment they walk out of the testing room. Listening to Joey talk about his experience teaching here and witnessing the education process myself, I am convinced more and more how STUPID things like “No Child Left Behind” and standardized testing really are.
Regurgitation of information is not digestion of information, and though it’s easier, multiple choice tests are not good for digestion.
So that’s that. This weekend was pretty calm as I spent it just hiding out from the cold, reading, writing (that darn personal statement), discovering an AWSOME bakery called the Muslim Bakery that makes the best, I swear it must have dropped from heaven, baklava, buying yet another Paulo Coelho book, falling in love once again with the singer Idan Raichel, gorging myself on an Indian Buffet, and swinging from a hammock, digging my toes into the sand and getting drunk off some fabulous conversation in a bar full of foreigners, Koreans and cheesy beach memorabilia.
Good times.
Quick Update:
Last weekend I went to the horse races, lost my phone, danced the night away…again, ate some REAL chocolate cake, got a great shot if the Seoul Tower from the rooftop of the Soonhawk Women’s University, and ended the night waiting with Joey for the 6am train. We had intended to just stay the night at the local Jimjillbong (which is like a community bathhouse that allows people to stay the night on little mats strewn about a very large sauna), but something caught fire in the sauna which caused the whole area to fill with smoke. We got a refund, but there were still plenty of other people sleeping there since they had turned off the alarm. I guess there rational was purely bureaucratic. We were told that if the fire department showed up again they would be forced to shut down. Again, where is the logic here? I have to think that having to carry out a couple dead bodies that stopped functioning due to smoke inhalation would be a worse situation than having to deal with the fire department, but I’m just a crazy American, what do I know?
Classes were great this week because all of the students were having tests in the public schools which knocked out about 5 kids per class since they take their tests very seriously and needed to stay up studying for them rather attending the Hagwon. It was so peaceful and as much as I feel bad for the torture these kids have to go through with testing, I am eagerly looking forward to the next session, which is bound to happen soon. The Koreans love their tests. After an e-mail mom sent me an e-mail about Korean tests being delivered in an armor truck. Intrigued, I talked with Joey about it and he confirmed the test mania/paranoia. I guess at his University they put the entire building where the tests are held, on lock down and only a select group of people are allowed to enter through one door only. All this for a bunch of multiple choice questions that these kids won’t remember the moment they walk out of the testing room. Listening to Joey talk about his experience teaching here and witnessing the education process myself, I am convinced more and more how STUPID things like “No Child Left Behind” and standardized testing really are.
Regurgitation of information is not digestion of information, and though it’s easier, multiple choice tests are not good for digestion.
So that’s that. This weekend was pretty calm as I spent it just hiding out from the cold, reading, writing (that darn personal statement), discovering an AWSOME bakery called the Muslim Bakery that makes the best, I swear it must have dropped from heaven, baklava, buying yet another Paulo Coelho book, falling in love once again with the singer Idan Raichel, gorging myself on an Indian Buffet, and swinging from a hammock, digging my toes into the sand and getting drunk off some fabulous conversation in a bar full of foreigners, Koreans and cheesy beach memorabilia.
Good times.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
"Normal" vs. "Natural"
What is natural?
What about human behavior is natural?
Is sexism natural?
If sexism is natural than I suppose tribal warfare is natural.
Fine. I totally disagree with this statement, but for the sake of argument lets just say that war and misogyny are natural.
Somebody please tell me why such a statement like "it's only natural" makes it acceptable?
I fail to see the logic in this phrase and it pisses me off that in reality what we consider natural is really nothing more than what we humans have become used to seeing day in and day out. What we consider "natural" is only what is NORMAL and what is NORMAL can be changed.
As can anything "natural."
So please, tell me why the hell "it's only natural" is a justifiable argument for ANY form of oppression?!
What about human behavior is natural?
Is sexism natural?
If sexism is natural than I suppose tribal warfare is natural.
Fine. I totally disagree with this statement, but for the sake of argument lets just say that war and misogyny are natural.
Somebody please tell me why such a statement like "it's only natural" makes it acceptable?
I fail to see the logic in this phrase and it pisses me off that in reality what we consider natural is really nothing more than what we humans have become used to seeing day in and day out. What we consider "natural" is only what is NORMAL and what is NORMAL can be changed.
As can anything "natural."
So please, tell me why the hell "it's only natural" is a justifiable argument for ANY form of oppression?!
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