An Englishman in Seoul

Courtesy of Jaeyoung Geoffrey Kang

By David A. Tizzard

 

“Miguk-in onda,” the Korean kids used to shout at me as I walked past the convenience store. The mere sight of a white guy on the streets of Seoul causing them to break out in cheers and shouts, proclaiming that an American guy was coming. I didn’t really have the heart to tell them I was from the south of England, nor did I fancy trying to explain Benedict Anderson’s 1983 book Imagined Communities or the War of 1812 to them. So, I just smiled and played along. “What’s your name?” the loudest and most confident would yell out.

Taxi drivers were often no different. “American?” they would ask, looking cheerfully back at me in their rearview mirror as we sped through the streets in the early hours, the windows open and cigarette smoke rushing outside. “Yong-guk,” I would reply, holding back the soju and taking another drag of the cigarettes brought for 2,000 won from a local pharmacy. “Ah! Gentleman!” he would then exclaim. What about me at 4am after 12 hours of drinking and clubbing in Hongdae looked gentlemanly, I’m not sure. I certainly didn’t look like Hugh Grant or whatever image they might have had in their mind. But taxi drivers had no hesitation in making such an assumption. This was likely amplified by a popular television advertisement with Daniel Henny featuring the rather ambiguous and innuendo-laden question, “Are you gentle?”

Even my early experiences here teaching executives in banks and insurance companies up and down the length of Jong-no, highlighted the weirdness of being English in Korea. Quite a lot of people looked at me funny when I said certain words. They didn’t understand my accent and couldn’t comprehend why, after years of watching "Friends" and other saccharine American shows of the time, they weren’t being taught by a blue-eyed man named Brad or Craig. The men might say something about Park Ji-sung who had just moved to Manchester United, but even this topic quickly moved to Hiddink, the Netherlands, and then back to the 2002 World Cup which was still being shown on televisions up and down the country, then an incredible (and unexpected) highpoint of Korean international success and nationalism.

On very rare occasions, a student would tell me they were a fan of Doctor Who (I never watched it) or liked listening to Oasis (I preferred Blur). But in day-to-day life, there was a glorious anonymity associated with being British here in South Korea. Even the American military police that used to roam the late-night streets with automatic rifles in their hands looking for troops out past curfew wanted nothing to do with me as soon as they heard my accent. On the odd occasion, a Canadian friend would sign me in to the British Embassy pub so I could have a pint, but for the rest of the time it was mostly American fare in the pubs and restaurants.

Experiences and Bridges

But what did it mean to be English? It’s a question I’d never really considered until television and radio show hosts asked me to present English culture on air. On one occasion, Mr. Lee, the excitable show producer, said he had read about people eating pig’s heads for Christmas in England. Parsnips I could understand; Yorkshire puddings I could support. But pig’s heads? They were probably reading Dickens or something. Nevertheless, a wad of cash was put in an envelope and then slid over the table, so me and a Canadian friend put on Franciscan robes and then proceeded to eat a cold boar’s head on television on the premise that we were demonstrating British culture to Korean people. I still have the photos, but the robes and the money are long gone, unfortunately.

This, of course, is not to criticize Korean people for their lack of knowledge of Britian. Upon first leaving for Korea, my grandmother very proudly told her friends that I was off to South Croatia. That might have been an issue of hearing rather than the creation of a newly-minted Cold War state but it wasn’t the only experience. In the early 2000s, if I spoke to people in Kent about Korea I would be greeted with a whole host of remarks: “Where’s that?”, “Is that like North Korea? They’re a bit mad, aren’t they?”, and “I heard they eat dog there!” were some of the more common ones. Again, like the kids shouting at me in Seoul, it was more a lack of knowledge than anything particularly malevolent. But the distance between the nations felt tangible to me.

That is not to say there haven’t been those engaged in building bridges. On August 29, 1950, Britain sent around 80,000 troops to the United Nations Command (UNC) to protect South Korea from a communist invasion. Andrew Salmon has spent decades chronicling Britain’s involvement in that conflict, preserving the stories and memories of those who gave their lives as well as those that returned home only to find the brutal reality they experienced to be unfairly labeled “The Forgotten War.”

Embassies, ambassadors, and a host of diplomatic staff have also strengthened ties between the countries. The British Embassy here in Seoul, tucked away in the City Hall area next to Deoksu Palace and behind the Seoul Anglican Cathedral, gets a bit of flak (unwarranted, in my opinion) from some here for not doing enough to make them feel welcome, but throughout the year there are a host of garden parties, events and occasions designed to bring Koreans and Britons together. It’s a genuinely marvelous experience to stand looking at a British building in Seoul built in 1892 while your kids run up and down the lawn making a little too much noise but nevertheless entertaining the guests.

BLACKPINK and the Royal Palace

Watching the Coldstream Guards play BLACKPINK and Psy songs on the Buckingham Palace forecourt this week was surreal. Hearing King Charles speak Korean as he welcomed President Yoon to Britain probably ranks even higher on the list of things I never thought I would see. But there it was. And while it certainly made me smile, the reaction among some Korean people around me was even more pleasing. Exchanges and recognition are now a genuine two-way street. Korea has pushed itself through economic, political, and cultural revolutions in the past half century and deserves its place, not only in British palaces, but also in people’s awareness.

My grandmother

I remember sitting in our small cottage in northern Seoul in the summer of 2012 with my grandmother. She had made the 5,000-mile journey across the world for my wedding (we made sure she didn’t go to Croatia!). As we debated how to find her some slimline tonic for her nightly G&T and grapefruit for breakfast, we had the football on the telly. It was the London Olympics and Britian were playing South Korea in the Millennium Stadium. All rather serendipitous, you might think. As Ki Sung-yeung smashed the winning penalty high into the roof of the net and South Korea beat Britian in their own backyard, at their own game, my nan and I looked at each other. “Well! I didn’t expect that,” she said with a trademark chuckle. “And you probably didn’t expect to be sat here in Seoul about to welcome your new South Korean granddaughter-in-law,” I replied.

The world is funny like that. After 140 years of relations between London and Seoul, I’m sure there have been innumerable conversations like the one my nan and I had that day. And, after seeing everything this week, I’m sure there will be many more to come.

Dr. David A. Tizzard (datizzard@swu.ac.kr) has a Ph.D. in Korean Studies and lectures at Seoul Women's University and Hanyang University. He is a social/cultural commentator and musician who has lived in Korea for nearly two decades. He is also the host of the Korea Deconstructed podcast, which can be found online.