(Seoul, Korea)

I went to visit a law school friend, Lynn, who is interning in Seoul for the summer. My friend wanted some photos of the protests as souvenirs and dragged me along. While the crowds have dwindled after over two months of protests, the night was made interesting by watching the police strategy for dispersing the protestors. The police probably outnumbered protestors by at least 10 to 1, which might be why they are willing to disperse the crowds.

(Seoul, Korea) And the action begins…

The police had pushed the protestors to a four-way junction at the Samsung Securities Building beside Jonggak station. There were brief clashes there but it eventually led to a stalemate with the riot police blocking off two of the roads at the junction that led to City Hall. About an hour later, about 50 to 100 policemen started running in an opposite direction from this scene. Lynn and I found them trying to outflank protestors by coming from behind them through a backstreet. Some protestors found this ambush and blocked the passage with their cars.

(Seoul, Korea) End game…

However, it turned out that this was a decoy as about 15 minutes later, about 200 riot police rushed in from the main street behind the protestors - running for about 200 meters in full riot gear. The protestors were caught in a pincer maneuver and were pushed out of the main road onto the four corners of the junction by the police. They were dispersed and could not do much but stay on the sidelines. A protestor alleges that the tactic was done to make it seem as if there were no protestors (as they could not gather).

(Seoul, Korea) A blogger/web journalist reports onsite at a protest

Korea’s three largest papers, Chosun Ilbo, Joongang Ilbo and DongA Ilbo are all conservative dailies. However, I would estimate that 40 percent of Korea belongs to what would be considered the left in Korea. This begs the question of why the left is not adequately represented in the mainstream media. Only one print newspaper could claim a significant readership and call itself left-oriented, but it is still behind the three Ilbos in readership. So what does 40 percent of Korea read for their news?

I suspect that the dominance of the Ilbos stem from stronger advertising revenue streams. Printing and distributing hardcopy newspapers are expensive. As the chaebols, Korean family-run conglomerates, tend to be aligned with the right, they are much more willing to advertise in the Ilbos.

Without the main source of advertising dollars in Korea, left-leaning papers are forced to the fragmented (and cheap) corners of cyberspace. And they are well-represented there. A dispersed network of blogs, small independent news outfits and discussion forums comprise the left’s media channels. I recalled how I once wanted to learn when major protests were taking place in Seoul, and my friend went online to check blogs for this information.

I watched a sneak preview of Korean movie (with English subtitles) “Crossing” today. The show follows the life of Yong-soo, a fictional North Korean refugee, who crosses into China to find medicine for his ill wife. I do not know how to describe it in a way that does justice to this great firm, except to say that it is the first movie I cried at in the last 8 years.

For me, it’s the only Korean movie that is a must-watch. Catch it once it comes out with English subtitles. And spread the word, since the movie has yet to break even in Seoul.

Synopsis

Yong-soo lives in a small coal-mine village in North Korea with his wife and young son. Although living in extreme poverty, the family is happy just to be with each other. Then one day, Yong-soo’s pregnant wife becomes critically ill. Let alone medicine, Yong-soo can’t even find food for her in North Korea. So he secretly crosses the borders of China hoping to find the medicine for his wife. After many life threatening moments in China, Yong-soo is forced into South Korea, becoming an unwanted refugee prohibited to return to his family. Meanwhile, his wife passes away leaving their young son alone in desperation. With no one to turn to, his young son sets out to find his father not knowing where or how to find him.

(Seoul, Korea)

I met with Mikhail from the Czech Republic and he posed a question I hear frequently from Western friends. If they learnt something in the classroom about Asia, it probably runs along the line of “Confucianism…blah blah… Asians respect and care for their elders more…” Then when they come to Asia, they become disillusioned by how some Asian children disrespect their elders, or how the subway requires special seats set aside for the elderly, instead of youths readily giving up their seat for the elderly.

I believe the “respect for elders” tradition is misperceived because of the connotations hidden in the word “respect.” When westerners read “respect for elders,” they assume that youths genuinely care and empathize with their elders. However, I believe that the proper description of this aspect of Confucian culture should be “observing the proper protocols around the elderly.” East Asians still maintain personal thoughts on individual elders. However, while they might like or dislike the particular elder, East Asians are still expected to behave in a specified manner around that elder (e.g. This blog talks about honorifics as one of those protocols).

(Seoul, South Korea)

I was at one of the larger protests in Seoul on Saturday taking pictures. I originally budgeted 2 hours for the event, but ended up spending close to 5 hours following the protestors as they marched towards City Hall in the heavy rain. I expected some violence to occur, but other than minor mischief and a scuffle I got into, things were peaceful.

I was near Jonggak when I got into a brief scuffle. There was a man standing on top of a platform speaking to the crowds. The platform was guarded by about 8 men. After I started taking pictures, the people standing by the platform rushed forward and grabbed me. They were asking me (in Korean) why I was taking pictures and which newspaper I worked for. I started explaining that I was a foreigner and they demanded to see my passport. After being convinced that I was really from overseas (and not from Chosun Ilbo or the government), they told me to delete the photos I had with the face of the speaker and let me off without checking if I did. Looks like I managed to get almost the same treatment in Seoul as I had in North Korea.

Buses blocked the path to the Blue House, where the president stays. Some protesters were vandalizing the buses or trying to puncture tires on the buses. Others were attempting to crawl under the buses. These people were a minority though, as the rest were busy matching towards City Hall. There were also some protesters who doubled as voluntary traffic control. They made sure the roads were shared by both protesters and vehicles.

(Seoul, South Korea)

As I walked in towards City Hall, it was an amazing sight. Row after row of policemen appeared before my eyes while a crowd of protesters marched behind. The policemen were waiting with shields held ready. I was expecting the two groups to clash, but most of the protesters simply went home after reaching City Hall.

(Seoul, South Korea)

In talking about these protests to my friends, I can see a very obvious divide in opinion between Korean friends who attend Ivy League universities and Korean friends who attend Korean universities. The former are mostly from incredibly wealthy Korean families while my friends in Korean universities tend to come from poorer or middle class backgrounds. My richer friends call the protestors stupid and deluded (“trash” in some of their words). Their views echo that of the Chosun Ilbo. My friends who are of more humble background are much more supportive or at least mildly approving of the protests. These protests have clearly tugged at fault lines drawn along socio-economic backgrounds. I wonder if Singapore’s rising inequality will lead to a similar divide.

(Seoul, Korea) Rushing

Girls in Seoul are very sensitive about their appearances. You see mirrors at every subway exits and in every corner. In the subway, I once saw a girl rushing urgently and wondered where she was going. When she reached the mirror at the platform, she halted and adjusted her hair. It would have been terrible if someone caught her with her fringe slightly awry. Another time, the train was just about the leave the station. The doors were closing when a lady suddenly leaped out. She must have forgotten something! Instead, she ran to the mirror at the platform and fiddled with her clothes.

(Seoul, Korea) Have to be perfect

And they look incredibly good of course, under all that makeup. An American I met at the hostel, Dan, told me how his neighbor refused to pick up the letters outside before undergoing a 30 minutes make-up regime.

Plastic surgery helps too. A friend told me that after high school, her parents wanted her to get plastic surgery. She did not want it, and she half-jokingly added that her parents were disappointed with her decision. Many of my friends view plastic surgery as something natural to give to their children. To them, plastic surgery is like private tutoring, a way to give their children an advantage in a fiercely competitive society. While I empathize with that rationale, I cannot help but feel sad that people would feel so pressured to go under the knife.

Using free insurance quotes can save you from many undue expenses like getting a pet insurance when you don’t have a pet, or a business insurance when you are an employee. Everyone can use a health insurance and a dental insurance though.

(Rome, Italy) Where hence the individual?

Before the semester ended, I was awarded the Wharton Undergraduate Research Award for excellence in research. It was given to five winners nominated by the faculty and I was the only non-senior. What does this mean? I don’t know. Most awards and fellowships are truly strange rituals: they sound truly impressive, but no one outside a select group, or in this case, perhaps just the winners and the faculty, knows about them.

Awards and fellowships validate our sense of self-importance rather than accomplish anything. If there is anything remotely important, it would be in the work I did preceding the award. I researched the impact of a new policy in China on corporate citizenship, drew some conclusions, and used them to try—in what small ways I can—to create positive change in society. Awards say nothing of this process. It simply summarizes the effort, often in ways that crushes the individualism of the effort. Perhaps that is the purpose of awards: they seek people that match an idealized form of excellence – a mold.