Hey Foreigner, Play 'Haenyo' with Us!

Living, as an English Teacher, in South Korea is a swirl of hilarity, frustration, relaxation, and annoying hassles. I live in arguably the best spot, just off this wee mountainous peninsula, on a rocky, windy island called Jeju Do. Her often empty (except during the six-week ‘beach season’), beautiful beaches, incredible volcanic mountain in the island's center, and numerous rocky, hilly, beach-bound hikes throughout the entirety of the island are just a few of her alluring attributes.

Jeju culture varies a bit from that of mainland Korea as well. The locals, older locals anyway, have a distinct dialect that mainlanders claim they cannot understand. The delicacies specific to Jeju Do include a variety of fish found only in waters around the island and a barbecued black pig dish, called dong twegi (Poop Pig in English, named so because these pigs dwell below the household toilet, feasting and fattening up on human feces, before being slaughtered and served to you, the culture seeking foreigner!)

Another, more amiable island-specific culture is that of the Jeju Do Haenyo. This, woman-only profession, is a fading one here on the island. Years ago, when the Jeju men would head out to sea for days on end, possibly never to return, the women in the community needed to provide food for their families. So they suited up for the ocean, strapped on masks, tied a buoy to their leg, and hit the waters in search of shellfish, small octopus and squid. Haenyo are trained to hold their breath for up to two minutes underwater. They make a distinct whistling sound upon surfacing to quickly push their held breath out and refill with oxygen before diving deep once again. With the Western wave of more convenient food, one can understand the decreasing necessity for such a profession. However, older women, adjuma in Korean, ranging anywhere from 45 years old to 75 years old, still fill these waters daily, easily spotted by their floating buoys, collecting island sea-delicacies.

Last night, I was asked by three adorable young Korean girls to play 'Haenyo' with them in the cold pool at my neighborhood sauna. Saunas in Asia differ a bit from ones in the West. The most noticeable difference being the complete nakedness of all the women bathing. But Korean saunas are also cheaper, with hotter rooms and colder pools, and sport a variety of aroma pools, such as green tea, lavender, and so forth. I visit the sauna often, and was in particular need of it last night, as I've had a headache impossible to shake for the past few days. After sitting and stretching in an oven-like dry heat room for over five minutes, I headed for the icy cold bath, where these aforementioned girls were playing 'Haenyo'.

Standing at the edge of the frigid bath, and after dipping my face into a plastic bowl full of the icy-cold marvel, I slowly lifted my aching head and opened my eyes only to face a very chubby, very naked, very observant, 8 year-old. Who, upon seeing my face, pointed and yelled, "WAE-GOOK-EN Sadaam!" (foreign person). So, as is my usually response to this common occurrence, here in this incredibly homogeneous nation, I pointed back and yelled "HAN-GOOK EN Sadaam!" (Korean person). After identifying her nationality in her native language, her pointed-hand slowly lowered in the the icy bath, as her eyebrows mushed together in that universal sign of childhood confusion. Then, she pointed back at me and asked "Han-Gook en Sadaam?" I laughed, and said in English, "No you're Korean silly. Despite still being a bit confused, as the rest of her poolside posse joined our conversation, she was happy to drop the issue and take my hand as I entered the frigid pool.

My hands have matured faster than the rest of my 27 year-old body. They are full of lines, wrinkly, dry, and a bit coarse to touch. Many folks, upon seeing my wise hands for the first time, describe them as water soaked, that it seems as though I've spent hours in a tub allowing my hand-skin to shrivel up and wrinkle. As the masters of observation we've learned these three, young Korean girls to be, they were quick to turn over my hands and touch them inquisitively. "Wae Idokae?" (Why, do they look like this?) one girl quickly asked. And I answered "Adjuma son!" (old lady hands). The smallest, toothless member of this poolside posse grabbed my hand and said, "Anneyo, Halmoney son" (No,Grandma hands). Our chubby friend, hit with yet another ingenious revelation, said "Anney, Haenyo son!!" (No, Haenyo hands). They then invited me throw small pebbles (from the pebble foot-walk aside the icy bath) into the pool, and swim to collect the pebbles in this adorable activity they were calling "Haenyo Ga-eeme!"

After collecting a few black stones, and practicing speaking Korean with them, I relieved myself of their company, and headed to the showers. As I dressed to head home, I smiled to myself, having one of those "I love Korea so much" moments. Feeling better, though still a bit headache-y, I combed my hair and looked in the mirror at all these half naked Korean women and at half naked me, each of us, glowing from a good cleanse, preparing to head home and sleep. I grabbed my belongings, and with a new spring in my step left the sauna, just as the poolside posse, freshly showered, emerged into the changing room.

When the oldest and most vociferous of the bunch waved good-bye and yelled "Anyeong Wak-Gook en!" (Good-bye Foreigner!), the changing room erupted with laughter, as old and young Koreans alike, laughed at the adorable young girl saying good bye to white woman. And I smiled endearingly, as well. Then I thought, what if I was leaving a sauna in the states, and a young girl yelled Good-bye to an Asian woman by screaming "Good-bye Oriental Lady," would American moms erupt in laughter?

Oh, homogeneous Korea! Is there an end to the hilarity of my blond hair? No end in the sight of these green eyes, anyway!