Let me set the mood for you. You're walking down the streets in a big, bustling city. You are drawn to the various sights and smells as you stroll through a night market. You turn and laugh with your friend about a silly inside joke. As you look forward, you notice a group of local men and women about your age staring at you and your friend. They are all laughing and joking, and although they are speaking a different language, you know enough to understand that they are talking about you. Talking about your hair, your skin, your existence. They are laughing, and in broken English, they mock you, "yo yo yo, wassup!" And that's when it really dawns on you. You are NOT welcome here. To them, your existence is simply a caricature of your true self.
I've never felt more uncomfortable than I did this past weekend in Busan. This is coming from a woman who had her naked butt tapped by an old Korean woman, also naked, who then grinned and complimented my soft skin. This is coming from a girl who was nearly peed on a by a drunk, old Korean man in a rain storm. More uncomfortable than THAT was this entire weekend in Busan.
My first full day in Busan, I blamed myself for the way that I was treated. I figured because it is a coastal city, people would be more care free. I wore a low cut maxi dress. I figured all of the stares *directly at my chest* were a product of living in a country that doesn't normally show cleavage. But, after I bought a t-shirt to wear over my dress, the stares continued. So, I had to cancel out that idea. Later, when we were at a night market we heard a man, probably not too much older than my friend and I, telling his friend he should talk to us by saying "yo yo yo AOMG." This isn't just something that can be shrugged off as ignorance. He laughed after saying that. He knows it's ridiculous to approach someone like that, but decided to joke about it a second time before his girlfriend physically slapped her hand over his mouth to make him shut up.
The next day, we were heading to the beach, so we wore a swimsuits under summertime apparel. I wore a tight dress, similar to one you would see Korean women wearing everywhere, and I covered up with a cardigan. My friend wore a tee and shorts. I could tell she was uncomfortable with showing her legs, despite it being warm out. The truth is, we can't wear what Korean girls wear without hearing actual gasps, being pointed at, and talked about. While we were on the subway, a man approached us, looked us up and down, and started asking, "where are you from?" "Are you students?" "Where are you going?" We told him we're American, we're not students, we're going to the beach. That seemed to be the end of it as we went back to talking. Other men on the subway questioned the first man about our answers and he enthusiastically translated out short exchange. My friend, D, and I ignore this. It's sometimes easier to pretend you don't know any Korean. When we got off he told us to follow him to our transfer. He became really persistent. Obviously, we weren't comfortable with that, so I had to politely tell him we would go to the bathroom first and take the next train. He seemed confused but eventually gave up. We waited a few minutes and went down to the platform for our transfer, and who did we see? This guy. He was waiting at the last car, and if we wanted to get on, we'd have no choice but to walk past him. It's not like we could blend in, either, so what else could we do? We hid. Behind a pole. We hid and purposely missed our transfer. For me, the most uncomfortable part of this whole situation is that he assumed we were students. He assumed we were younger than we really are, but it didn't stop him from being a creep.
The icing on this crap cake was later that day, we went to a convenience store to purchase less than $5 worth of items.I mention the price to point out the ridiculousness of what I will say next. I was accused of stealing. I went into the store and I picked out a popsicle and a cup of ice. The total of these two items were just over 1,000 won. It's less than a dollar in merchandise. Ice, a cup, and a popsicle. I paid for it, but I didn't get a bag or receipt, and then my friend called me over to ask which soda she should buy. I figured I'd just ask for a bag when I went back over. When we went back the cashier that rang me up, a young man, moved over to the side to eat a cup ramyeun, and his post was replaced by a young girl. While my friend paid, we noticed that she charged her for my items too, so I told her in English and in Korean that I already paid for it. The guy who rang me up is sitting off to the side, but he's still there. She says okay, and I ask for a bag, which she gives me. She doesn't say anything else to me until I've taken one step out of the store, and then she loudly yells "excuse me" and then in Korean she says "you didn't pay yet." So, I look back into the store and respond that I did pay. And she's making intense eye contact with me until the guy who rang me up says, between mouthfuls of ramyeun, "yeah, she paid." In an effort to save face, she asks when? WHEN? I wanted to flip out on her, and I would have if D didn't quickly push me out of the door. Not fast enough, however, to avoid the judgmental stares of all of the other customers in the store. They were so ready to believe that I stole $1 worth of convenience store merchandise. Instead of clarifying that I already paid while I was right in front of her, she decided to wait until I was halfway out of the store to confront me. As though it makes sense to be so bold as to ask for a bag for stolen goods.
Last year, I went to Busan with my ex. A white man. A white man predisposed to doing reckless things like climbing rocks as opposed to simply walking up the stairs. I was never once mocked, creeped on, or accused of stealing when we were together. But, I never felt more aware of my skin color and my gender as I did when I went to Busan this year. I've never felt more unwelcome in my life. I've honestly never felt as preyed upon by men as I did in Busan, either. Since talking about my trip with Korean coworkers and friends, I've learned that a lot of them don't like Busan. They've said that the people there are more bold about saying what's on their mind. But, it doesn't comfort me to know that what was on their mind was that they didn't want me there.
