Korea Quirk #1: Public restrooms **

Interactions with public restrooms in South Korea are not unlike those of Europe: you have to have the alertness and observational powers of a ninja-assassin to have a successful trip to the loo.

Normal concerns include:
- Is there a public restroom, or are the proprietors of this restaurant going to invite me to use their family bathroom?
- Is there a lock on the door of my stall?
- Is there a hook to hang my purse/jacket/bag on so I don't have to set it/them down on the smarmy, muddy, germ-laden floor?
- Is there enough or any toilet paper? (Always carry tissues...)
- Is there soap with which to wash my hands after? (Always carry hand sanitizer...)
- Are there any hand-drying apparatuses available, or will I be using my pants?

In Europe, there was an additional concern:
- Am I going to be charged for using this facility? [And follow-up: Do I have any cash or coins in the correct currency to pay for my right to pee? Is there a bathroom attendant who will expect to be tipped for pointing me to an empty stall? Do I have enough coins to tip her and keep her from being insulted by a paltry amount and retaliate by spitting on my shoes?] (always carry a couple dollars/pounds/euros/francs in change...)


In Korea, there are several additional concerns:
- Is there a toilet? If the "toilet" is just a hole in the ground, better to hold it and wait, because if you go for it anyways, you will end up peeing on your shoes (trust me).
- Did the jerks who made this restroom put the toilet paper OUTSIDE the bathroom stalls or inside? I am not kidding - they actually do this. Your ninja-like observational skills come in very handy at this point: If you notice the TP placement BEFORE entering the stall to relieve yourself, you can snag some TP and have a successful visit. If, however, you have a vague memory of successfully visiting a certain restroom before, but you fail to remember the necessary step of retrieving TP before entering your stall, you will not have a successful visit. (unless of course, you always carry tissues with you...)
- Are you in the correct restroom for your gender? Just because there is a urinal does not mean you are in the men's room. Go back and check the little bathroom pictures carefully:



...If you are still confused as to which image is male or female, or why this seems to be a restroom for chubby children, wait : and with your ninja-assassin powers of observation, note whether the next person entering/exiting the restroom in question is of the same sex as you. If not, use the other restroom.

If it is so late at night that no-one enters or exits either restroom after 5 minutes of waiting, then it doesn't matter which room you choose. Pick the one with toilet paper and soap.


Luckily for all of you, I have gone through enough restroom mishaps to safely advise you through the process should you ever be in Europe or South Korea.

You're welcome!






** I would like to clarify that the title of this series of posts is not, in fact, politically incorrect. I am perfectly aware that many of these Anna-labeled "quirks" are only regarded as quirky by me (and other foreigners) because they are different from what I (we) are used to. The title of this post series is really "Cultural difference awareness #__". However, I don't think that's as catchy as "Korea Quirk # ___", which might sound to some like I am assuming that anything different from my idea of normal is strange and quirky in and of itself. But that's not at all the meaning I was going for, thus the existence of this disclaimer to set anyone straight who was condemning me for my cultural insensitivity. I promise that I am very culturally sensitive, and that the phrase "Korea Quirk" is merely an expression of poetic license. Thank you for your understanding.

Would you like pretzels, cookies or peanuts?

When I visited my friend Hyo Jeong a couple weeks ago, amidst laughter and frivolous talk and serious talk, I asked her where I could purchase a cheap set of rollers for curling my hair. She just stared at me. "For YOU?" she finally asked, eyebrows high and eyes wide.

She was surprised, because the Anna she met in New Zealand 5 years ago didn't give a fig about hair rollers, and spent her $ on really cool things, like traveling and authentic Italian pizza and theatre.

And I still like all those things! (A lot.)
But... Now I also give a fig about hair rollers. Something happened to me upon arriving in Korea. I suddenly realized that it was imperatively important to me that I dress the part of Professional Teacher. And not in a "dejected-because-I-have-to-fit-the-mold-but-don't-wanna-because-I-am-a-rebel-at-heart" way, either; no, I felt eagerness and excitement over this drive to fit the working-woman mold.

Hose and high heels! Dress pants and blazers! Neat hair and dress shirts! Bring it on!
(No make-up, though - that's a personal line I only cross for special occasions.)

What? Why is this so exciting to me? Or, to most of me. Part of me feels uneasily like a traitor - Mary G, do you still love me? - and is baffled as to why I am embracing these dress code conventions so enthusiastically.

But the answer is really simple: I've never had a job that required nice clothes before (set-building, rock climbing instructor, nanny, pre-K teacher - grubbies only), so it's a novelty, a persona I've never tried on before. I think my inner actress believes that my job is just a play and Professional Teacher is my character, and just loves wearing a costume every day.
Plus, my Husband's eyes get really wide and happy when I look fabulous (which he says is always), so I'm frequently guilty of going out of my way to dress sharp for him. And now I dress nice every day.

Some days are more miss than hit, though. Like yesterday.
I got dressed, realized I only had black and white in my outfit, and threw a scarf around my neck for color. Then I looked in the mirror.

"Adam!" I wailed, panicking because we were late and I didn't have time to change clothes. "I look like a flight attendant!"

He looked at me, smiled widely, and said, "That's not a bad thing." He really is no help sometimes.

But it was a bad thing. See photo below.


How are students supposed to take me seriously when they have to fight the impulse to request beverages and peanuts whenever they're hungry/thirsty?

And how is my inner actress supposed to take this?

I have a minimal flight attendant phobia. Despite knowing and loving some beautiful and fabulous flight attendants (yes, you, Marnell and Lily), I have never had the aforementioned 2 women as my flight attendants on any flight I've ever taken. Instead, my absolute most embarrassing moment in my whole life came about because of nasty, uncaring flight attendants. And no, I'm not telling that story in this post, so if you were getting excited and hoping to hear it, "get used to disappointment." (I just posted a photo of me posing as a flight attendant, so that's quite enough embarrassment for today.) Also, you get 10 points if you're the first person to guess correctly who said the above quote.

Anyways, I'm sure my students struggled mightily against their impulses, but the day passed without a single peanut-packet-demanding incident. And I drank the tea in that mug in the picture myself.

Adam must really have liked the outfit, though, because this is what I found on the blackboard after he finished teaching English:



:)

In retrospect, I probably could have just taken off the scarf, and I would have shed the entire flight attendant persona. But instead, I wore it all day long, because I didn't want to wear only black and white, which is what I usually do.