I Literally Have the Biggest Boobs in Korea

One of the things I have liked about Korea so far is that the men don’t harass you here as much as they do in Europe and North America, for example.  I walk around town alone or with my girlfriends all the time and it’s never been an issue. I mean, people look at us, but only because we’re white. I get stared at just as much back home because I have a rainbow tattoo on my chest—maybe even more. It’s my power symbol; I’m like a Care Bear. I don’t mind getting stared at when my tattoo is out…it’s to be expected.  It’s when people stare when it’s not out that I start to feel self-conscious, like the other day…

Last week was the first time that I walked home from school both A) not wearing black, and B) not wearing any sort of sweater or jacket. Actually I was in one of my awesome new T-shirts I bought in Dongdaemun, with multi-colored stripes and stars on it. Since I was wearing it to teach in, it completely covers my rainbow. But, it is a little tight on me. It’s not my fault—I’m a giant here. It’s a miracle I can find clothes that fit at all!

It was that day that I discovered something I had suspected all along—that I literally have the biggest boobs in Korea.  I’m like a walking freak-show to these folks. They can’t help but stare. One man in a business suit stared me straight in the chest from the time he was about 100 yards away until well after he’d passed me by. Never once did he crack a smile, in fact, it was as though there were invisible lasers coming out of his eyeballs and he was trying to destroy my evil D-cups. He almost looked angry! A couple minutes later and an elderly gentleman stared as well, except he was blowing me kisses the whole time too! Nicole was walking with me. “My God!” she exclaimed. Is this what the summer has to bring?

But at least they’re only looking. As long as it stays like that, it will stay funny.

The kids, however, don't just look. But they're kids so they can get away with it. They pat me on the boobs all day long! "Hey, don't do that!" I'll say, crossing my arms over my chest. They also pet my arms now that I'm in short sleeves. I'm like a giant, squishy, hairy monkey to them I think.

Koreans are very funny. They believe that if you leave a fan on in a room with the windows and doors closed that you can die. It will create a vortex that sucks the oxygen right out of your nostrils. Apparently too, they seem to have some sort of fear of the rain. We’ve all noticed that they will have their umbrellas up even if it looks slightly threatening, but isn’t actually raining. What do they think will happen if a drop of rain falls on them?

It was raining a little last night when Nicole and I were shopping in Nowon. I was wearing my favorite jeans which have huge bellbottoms and are slightly too long. Because they drag the ground a bit, they got a little damp at the bottom. We walked into a small clothing store. The lady who worked there noticed my damp pants and poked me and said something. I couldn’t understand but she was obviously agitated and pointing at the bottom of my pant legs. Since Koreans are so obsessed with clean floors, I thought I must have accidentally tracked in mud, or was dripping water or something—but I wasn’t. The floor behind me was completely clean.  Nevertheless, she was obviously in a hurry to remove me from the premises.  She quickly grabbed a Swiffer and commenced on pushing me out the door with it at the feet as she mopped the path behind me.  “What a psycho!” I said out loud, knowing she wouldn’t understand, but not caring too much if she did.

But Koreans are funny in very friendly ways as well.  If ever my backpack comes slightly unzipped, someone will always come and zip it up for me as I walk down the street. Earlier today on the subway, I was sitting down and Kim was standing up in front of me.  The lady sitting next to me noticed a thread hanging loose from her shirt and kindly pointed it out, motioning she’d like to fix it for her.  Then she carefully wrapped it around her forefinger and adeptly yanked it free. “She probably, like, sews clothes for a living,” I said, as we smiled and thanked her.


"Yeah, I bet it was totally driving her crazy!" said Kim.

One thing that will be hard to get used to when I return home will be not talking about people right in front of them. We do that all the time here! “Oh my Gosh—look at that girl’s crazy shoes!” we’ll say, for example, with the girl about 5 feet away. It is a bit of a risk since some people speak English, but, since most people don’t, it’s far too tempting not to do it. I mean, they’re doing it to us too, I’m sure!

Tonight, as Nicole and I walked home from the subway station after late-night shopping in Dongdaemun, we passed by several drunk people, which is common after about 9pm on any given weekend.  We were walking down a darkish alleyway in our neighborhood and a man in front of us let out this HUGE bellowing, rolling fart. It sounded like he pooped his pants!

I love that the worst thing that will happen to you walking around late at night with a bunch of drunks is that you might get farted on. I've never felt as safe anywhere as I do in Seoul.