I have often thought that foreigners living in Korea would be baffled by many things happening in contemporary Korean society.

These days, foreigners would be puzzled at hearing young Koreans complain that they now live in hell. We cannot blame these frustrated young people because they had to go through the inferno of the “college entrance exam hell” but still cannot find decent, stable jobs. We should have found a cure for the chronic disease of exams and created enough jobs for unemployed youngsters, but we failed. Thus we deserve the criticism.

Nevertheless, most foreigners would not agree with the idea of labeling Korea as hell. When I was in London three weeks ago, a BBC reporter interviewed me. His first question was “How come Korean young people call their country Hell Joseon? In our eyes, it is Paradise Joseon.”

I, too, would be reluctant to accept the derogatory nickname, even though I agree that our society has a number of innate problems and flaws. As someone who has gone through all sorts of social and political turmoil such as the Korean War and three decades of military dictatorship, I cannot but feel that I am living in paradise today.

As I look back upon my childhood, I remember a Korea that had virtually nothing to show except for a barren landscape. When I was a child, everybody in Korea was poor and had to worry about food and clothing. At that time, how to survive was our major concern and everything else was a luxury. The Korea back then was hell, not the present-day affluent country we live in today. Even in those hard times, we did not think of our country as hell, not because we were particularly patriotic, but because we had the defiant spirit to challenge the reality we were faced with. 

Indeed, if you watch the movie “Gukje Sijang (Ode to My Father),” which could be called a Korean version of Hollywood’s “Forrest Gump,” you cannot possibly call today’s Korea “hell.” As the movie depicts, my generation literally lived through the turbulent history of modern Korea. In order to overcome extreme poverty, we had to go to West Germany as coal miners and nurses, to Vietnam as soldiers and businessmen, and to Saudi Arabia as construction workers. Some of us chose to immigrate to the States for better life and education.

Yet, how could the younger generation know what my and my father’s generations have gone through? How could these affluent youngsters understand the hunger and poverty we endured? And how could this “soft generation” possibly imagine the trauma we experienced as we were caught up in the vortex of social and political turmoil?

While watching “Gukje Sijang,” I heard the son of the protagonist Deoksu muttering, “Ah, it is impossible to communicate with my old man.” Indeed, today’s Korean youngsters would never understand why their fathers acted so differently from them. The older generation did not hesitate to sacrifice themselves in order to build a better society for their children. Deoksu would be surely exasperated if he heard his children dismiss the paradise he had built as “hell.”

Foreigners in Korea would also find it weird that Koreans almost always compare themselves to those who are better than themselves and thus end up feeling unhappy. If you want to compare, it is wiser to compare yourself to those who are less fortunate than you are. Then you will be happy and grateful forever. This is a healthy and positive attitude to have. Otherwise, we will end up being unhappy and miserable eternally. Cold weather is a fine metaphor through which we can learn this lesson; do not compare your situation with Hawaii; always compare it with Siberia. Then you will be always warm and happy. 

Foreigners would be puzzled as well when they discover some Koreans have delusions of grandeur and think of their country as the center of the universe. Indeed, we should change “East Sea” to the “Sea of Korea.” The name East Sea presumes the center is Korea. But from another viewpoint, it could be called “West Sea” as well. It is similar to the European mind that labeled us the “Far East,” assuming Europe was the center of the world. 

I also frequently hear people insist, “China, Japan and America do not want to see the Korean Peninsula unified because if unified, Korea will be too strong a nation then.” Experts would immediately object to such a simple-minded viewpoint because the situation is much more complicated than that. Of course, a unified Korea will be stronger than now but it still will not be stronger than the above-mentioned three countries. Why, then, would the three mighty nations be intimidated by a unified Korea?

Few Koreans seem to realize that they may look strange to foreigners. Others do not seem to care. Perhaps, we need to alter our mindset so it becomes global, not parochial.  

By Kim Seong-kon

Kim Seong-kon is a professor emeritus of English at Seoul National University and president of the Literature Translation Institute of Korea. -- Ed