Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Bangs

Question for a letter to Obama:

"Do you know Do Do bird? I know Do Do bird. It can't fly and it's fat. I've never seen a Do Do bird, but I saw through a picture. It was cute but it was a little dirty. I'm interesting that Do Do birds are not afraid people. Ummm... Last, Michelle is so beautiful. From: Korean people"

– 3rd Grade Student, Yangmok Middle School


One of the greatest aspects of living abroad is that everything is different. Even menial tasks such as riding a subway or buying produce can be exciting because they are different from what we are used to. One of my favorite differences in Korea is the array of social activities. I am not referring to novelty activities, such as ‘Billibow,’ a bar whose novelty quickly wore off on me after all the local foreigners flocked there every single weekend to shoot a billiards ball down a long table into a triangle of half pint bowling pins. I always thought that the opposite combination of the games would be much more fun – bowling a cue ball across a fuzzy green billiards floor. What I’m referring to, though, are the typical places that Koreans frequent with their friends. The ‘Bangs.’

‘Bang’ is the Korean word for room, and they come in an excellent variety. The first ‘Bang’ that I encountered was a ‘PC Bang.’ In the past when I traveled to Europe and South America, there were always internet cafés where homesick backpackers updated their families alongside students diligently researching. A PC Bang, while technically an internet café, is nothing like that at all. When you walk in, you may think that you have mistakenly stumbled into an attack by North Korea. The sounds of young boys and grown men blowing things up and shooting warlocks intermingle with the cigarette smoke permeating the air. Computer gaming is such an essential component of Korean culture that a TV channel is dedicated solely to the game of ‘Starcraft.’ Perhaps the most out of place I have felt in Korea were the moments spent quickly looking something up in a PC Bang.

Another Bang is the DVD Bang. This Bang would not likely succeed in America, as it is simply a room to rent and watch a DVD at about 10 bucks a pop. The reason that it has become popular in Korea is the lack of private space, particularly for young couples who are shunned for the slightest ‘Public Display of Affection.’ Therefore a DVD Bang is more accurately a room to pop in a movie, dim the lights, and go to town. Needless to say, I have never utilized a DVD Bang. Neither have I experienced or even seen a Manhwa Bang, but it is apparently a Bang for comic books, similar to the Japanese Manga. Japanese culture is in many ways a strong influence on Korean culture, particularly in the way of cartoon characters and comics. The TV drama that took hold of the nation and could be seen playing in train station waiting areas with all eyes fixed on it unwaveringly, Boys Before Flowers, was based on a Japanese comic.

The Jimjilbang is a really unique bang, and, I would venture to guess, the Original Bang. The Jimjilbang is connected to a public bath house, which is basically a nude sauna. Even though men and women have separate areas, in a country where it is taboo to show your shoulder or wear a low cut shirt, it was pretty surprising to walk into a locker room of naked young girls and floppy old women casually strutting around, combing their hair, and brushing their teeth. Many mothers bring young sons into this haven of female splendor, but judging by how middle school boys giggle, for example, at nude sketches in an art exhibit, they don’t stay desensitized for long. I was pleasantly surprised by how little their eyes lingered on my foreign body and quickly felt at ease ‘Jimjilbanging’ with Koreans. Although the scale of the sauna can range, the first one I visited was a paradise of relaxation. The room was scattered with hot tubs, cold tubs, warm tubs, herb treated tubs with what appeared to be a giant tea bag brewing in them, dry saunas, steam saunas, mineral rooms, and a massaging waterfall. You can even order an old woman to scrub your skin as vigorously as a mother with a greasy pot and a Brillo pad. Once your muscles have been warmed and pounded into putty and your skin rubbed raw, you can throw on the pajamas loaned to you at the door and retire to what is technically the Jimjilbang – the sleeping room. The Jimjilbang is a giant room where everyone sleeps on the floor with a blanket and a headrest, although you can expect to get as much sleep as you would at a middle school girls’ slumber party. Once, my friend awoke me at 3 in the morning to tell me that the teenage girls loudly whispering with their legs entangled in hers had kept her up all night and that she was taking a taxi home. If you survive the night, though, you can eat eggs for breakfast while watching morning cartoons before taking a final dip in the hot tub.

My favorite of the Bangs is hands down the Noraebang. In translation, we would label it karaoke, but you never have to embarrass yourself on a stage in front of a crowd of strangers. At a Noraebang, a dozen people cram into a small room with a bottle of soju, two tambourines, and two microphones turned up to a thunderous volume. This way, you can clock in triple or quadruple the singing time and only in front of your friends, who can’t distinguish your voice in the echo of backup music and tambourine clanging anyways. The selection of English songs is quite random, including songs like Radiohead’s ‘Exit Music for a Film’ or The Beatles’ ‘Helter Skelter,’ but lacking many staple Stevie Wonder or Backstreet Boys tunes. The English lyrics that Koreans have learned are even more surprising, and, aside from their fascination with ABBA, are usually songs I’ve never heard of in my life. One of the greatest joys of the Noraebang is the footage backing the lyrics on the TV screen. Sometimes they are innocent but odd images – a bullfight or an Olympic runner falling down. But when I went with Anchovy Poop teachers to practice ‘Dancing Queen,’ which they would later make me perform with them at my middle school’s graduation ceremony wearing red bellbottoms that were too small and a fro wig that kept sliding off during our choreographed dance, a naked girl appeared on the screen touching herself inappropriately. I learned that certain Noraebangs rent women for men to sing with and enjoy. But this is not the only type of Noraebang. Charter buses are also equipped with Noraebang systems and the bus drivers don’t seem to mind their passengers drunkenly belting out ballads in the aisles, and on the cheapest train line, Mugunghwa, the 4th car - which I refer to as the ‘party car’ - consists of not only a snack shop, arcade games, and a massage chair, but also its very own Noraebang.

This brings us to the final Bang. Big Bang. When I arrived in Korea, Big Bang was the craze that swept the nation. Big Bang is a chart-topping, K-Popping, sometimes hip-hopping group of 5 heartthrob boys in skinny jeans and faux-hawks. Korea embraces its celebrities whole-heartedly, and Big Bang and others can be found in advertisements, on their own TV shows, adorning ‘character socks’, and scribbled onto the desks of my middle school students inside of hearts. Because these celebrities are so highly worshipped, there is a great deal of pressure on them, and therefore an unfortunate rate of celebrity suicide. Part of this pressure is a push for global success, and Koreans speak as proudly of ‘Rain’ as if they were his mother because he made Time Magazine’s 2006 list of World’s Most Influential People. Although there is a quick turnover in Korean pop culture, Big Bang still seems omnipresent, and learning to sing one of their songs was one of the most useful skills I picked up during my time in Korea. Although sexy and cutting edge is working its way in, K-Pop, like most everything in Korea, can best be described as cute. Because the songs blare from cell phone stores and clothing shops and often have English choruses, it is almost impossible to avoid getting them stuck in your head, whether you like them or not. But I have found that much like kimchi and many other things in Korea, no matter how you feel about it in the beginning, K-Pop somehow works its way into your heart.

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