So yesterday after my stupid class I was going to go home and actually learn some Korean, when suddenly a cool South American dude was like “Hey Matt come to this international student event! There’ll be food and presentations from lots of countries, and I’m going to play a Michael Jackson song on my guitar!” Never one to say no to the possibility of finding Indian food in Korea, I went along with it. I ate many foods. I met people from all over the world. I watched presentations and sexy dances and videos until 8pm. It was fun… until I realized what had actually happened.
They Englished me. They Englished me hard. Cool people from all over the world, easy access international foods, a sexy Phillipina girl desperately wanting to carry my children… and I had spent eight hours without hearing a single world of Korean. I excused myself to the restroom, got on a bus, and went the hell home.
Gal dernit, I’m in Korea. Unlike these people hell-bent on recreating their own country here, I’m actually trying to learn the language and assimilate. International events are the worst. They have one single function: repel the native culture. Out of the hundreds of people in attendance, maybe, maybe 1% were Korean (seriously, it was like 3 or 4 out of ~500), and they were in full-on I’m-here-to-speak-English mode. Which is brilliant, because they’re using this system to their advantage, just like I would. But for anyone who wants to learn Korean, this place was death.
That was yesterday. Today is the international student field trip, where everyone gets on a bus and takes thousands of narcissistic photos of themselves with people and rocks and shit while avoiding the Korean language at all costs. Obviously I didn’t go, because here I am taking a TV break to write this (with Korean in my headphones of course).
International students are the enemy. They’ll use anything to get you into their circle- community, food, and yes, even sex (rebuffing the advances of that not-Korean-speaking Phillipina who had not ten minutes prior done a burlesque sex-dance on the stage was absolutely my saying-no-to-the-One-Ring moment). They’re nice, they’re cool, and they don’t ask much in return- just that you completely give up the entire reason you travelled thousands of miles in the first place.
Burn your ships.
Burn them hard, and with prejudice.