You Spit, I Spit, We Spit

I've adjusted, even acclimated to most of the big, everyday cultural differences between the East and the West (or Korea and the West, at least). I love Kim-chi. I don't mind the fishy smell that wafts through all of Jeju. Sometimes, I throw my toilet paper into rubbish bins, instead of the toilet. I can patiently sit through hours of meetings where everyone is speaking Korean, talking about the meeting we need to have after this meeting. I usually don't scream at people when I drive through chaotic traffic (though I do beep my horn a lot!). Being bumped into from all sides on a huge sidewalk with only a few people waking down it usually just makes me laugh. Witnessing a mother helping her young son pee into the drain on a busy road seems normal. And being served a meal full of spam bits when I explained in Korean that I don't eat meat, feels more like my fault for failing to request the spam also be omitted from my meal.

But I'll never completely adjust to the spitting. Korean men, especially older men, spit anywhere and everywhere they please. They spit on sidewalks, the spit on the beach, they spit in stairwells, and occasionally they spit right at your feet. At least, these ajoshis (Korean word for older man) give ample warning before they soak your sneakers. It seems impossible to spit in Korea without first deeply sucking air through your nose and throat being sure to collect all the snot that may be lingering in any of your nasal passages. Once you hear a long snorted inhale it's best to step away from any old man in your proximity.

Spitting is not a purely Korean thing. I have my own stories from Thailand, Malaysia and Hong Kong. I've heard similar stories from friends' visits to basically all Asian countries. At least in Hong Kong, however, there seems to be an attempt to limit this snotty cultural aspect. Hong Kong's water fountains, bathrooms, metros, and parks post "No Spitting Signs" (as seen below) with hefty penalty fines.

Korea seems years away from this sort of cultural awareness. A few weeks ago, I stood at a intersection waiting for the light to change when I heard that disgusting, forewarning, sucking sound behind me. When I looked back, an angry-looking ajoshi released his snotty prejudice right at my feet. I couldn't help but think that he intentionally aimed at me. And so was confirmed of this, as I stepped away from his spit and flashed him a little smile. To which he began sucking any remaining snot deeper into his throat readying it for another launch at the white girl on the street corner. But I managed to load my own loogie and spit at his feet before he got off another round. When the crosswalk light turned green in the opposite direction I was headed, the angry ajoshi cowardly retreated from our spitting war, and headed across the road.

I was making my way to the Lotte Mart kitty-corner from our spitting battleground, and so had to wait for a couple of crosswalk lights. When I finally made it to the entrance of Lotte Mart, I heard that same sucking sound begin again. I turned around and spit (a weak, snotless, unprepared spit at that) just as the angry ajoshi took aim at my feet once again. His proper loogie landed just next to my shoe, and I looked up at him, spat another weak, formless spit and yelled at him to stop spitting at white people. He grumbled something that was definitely not in English and probably not in Korean.

I suppose I should be a little embarrassed for participating in spitting combat with an old, racist Korean man. But honestly, I'm far more embarrassed of my weak, snotless, formless spits than any youthful disgrace of an elderly person.