A rainy, blustry day finally came today in Seoul, and it was well needed. It's been about 31 degrees here for the last 3 or 4 days. Hot, hot weather where it feels hard to breathe. I don't mind summertime, but I hate such thick humidity, where the cold sweat on your forehead is even colder than the bottle of water in your head. Makes me feel like I'm in a womb of flu bacteria.
I was relaxing in my apartment this morning, enjoying the peacefulness that comes with the sound of rain, watching the movie Battle Royale (otherwise known as Batoru Rowaiaru for the Japanese cult flick fans). Must make a note on this film before digressing into the issue at the heart of this writing. I recently finished reading the original novel Battle Royale, written by Koushun Takami. Fantastic book. What with living in Asia and learning more and more everyday about the different cultures here, I really enjoyed the cynical portrayal the author took on life as a student in Japan, and the farce that is the 'dog-eat-dog' nature of the world we are all supposed to enter into. I was addicted to it, nonetheless and I highly recommend it to anyone looking for a good read. That being said, the movie was a disappointment. I felt as though the movie tried to play into the emotional connections made between students, while simultaneously trying to push some sort of political platform that was never really fleshed out. I can see why it's a 90's cult classic...but I guess I can also see why I'm not really a big follower of this train. Ah well.
To the heart of the matter. I went into the shower, and was getting clean, when I heard some noise outside the door. I looked out and the room was full of Korean business men...I think. I'm not sure, because I didn't have clothes on so I didn't stay too long.
So here's the background. In Korea, there is not a landlord for one apartment building. Each apartment is owned by a different landlord -- at least in my apartment. So at this time, my apartment is up for sale. This does not mean that I have to move. Rather, it means that there will be a new owner of the apartment. Over the last few weeks, then, many different couples and businessmen have been coming to look at the apartment. They don't stay long, just walk in, look out the window, check out the bathroom and then leave. There's some conversations in Korean, which I never really understand despite my studies, and then they bow and walk out. Okay, fine. It's a bit annoying that these visits come at all times of the day -- I've had visitors at 8:00 am, 10:30 am, 1:30 pm, even 7:00 at night on a Saturday. But it's been copasthetic so far.
Until today. I was in the shower, my door was locked, and they still entered in to my apartment. While I was in the shower, they came in, looked around, and left. That means that they have my passcode in to my apartment. And to walk a step further, they can (and may have already) enter my apartment at any time, even if I am not in the premises. And I am NOT comfortable with that. I am not comfortable with people coming in and out of my apartment whenever they feel like it. When talking to one of my Korean friends, Kate, she said that normally they would call the person in the apartment and forewarn them of their arrival. However, in this case, as they could not speak English, they decided to wave this step and just come to my apartment without notice.
This is the reality of the language barrier that foreigners are too often forced to face when living in Korea. I have found that, in most situations, I can make do with what little language I do know, or carve an exit strategy for myself. But this was too far. It is one thing to have miscommunication, or in reality, a complete lack of communication at your hagwon, in your teaching environment. But to choose silence over struggle when it comes to my home is in another ballpark. A park where I am pissed. There is no reason why anyone should ever come barging into my home without warning. It would take no more than 3 minutes to call my phone and let me know that someone was coming. To have the security guard give me a note to let me know someone was coming. To warn me. But now my house has been invaded. I feel uncomfortable in an already foreign city.
I don't know why. Maybe it is my fault. But it just seems to get more and more frustrating with every day that passes.
