Frustration Rant

It’s happened. I’ve been here for a while now and I’ve been trying hard to fight it, but it seems my attempts have been futile and I’m finally gonna have to cave to the societal pressure and norms here. Let me explain. 


When I got to Korea in October of 2010, I realized that I stuck out like a sore thumb. I knew that I thought, spoke, moved, acted, and LOOKED different from everyone else here. It started on the first day of work at my first school. I got there and immediately everyone stared at me like I was some sort of circus act. All the kids started pointing out how much taller I was than all of the other teachers at the school, how my eyes were just SO BIG, how I have double eyelids, how my face was much smaller than theirs, they all wanted to know if my hair was permed (teach-ah, pama?), they asked me if I was from Africa (apparently all people with dark skin are from Africa), the younger kids kept trying to grab my boobs to know what big boobs were like, and they were all very quick to point out that I was fat. 


I tried very hard to be patient and explain everything about myself. 
“Yes, I’m tall because I’m American and we drink a lot of milk.” 
“Yes, my eyes are ginormous, even by American standards, because my dad’s family has big eyes.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I only have one eyelid per eye.” (Google double eyelids if you want to know what they are.)
“I’m sorry, what?? What are you talking about? My face is not smaller than yours. Your face is fine. You’re gorgeous.” 
“No, I don’t have a perm.”
“No, I don’t have a perm.”
“No, I don’t have a perm.”
“No, I’m not from Africa. I’m American, despite the fact that I don’t have blonde hair and blue eyes.” 
“These are my boobs and you will not grab them or I will smack you!” (Just kidding. I didn’t really say that, although I really wanted to.)
“Yes, I know I’m fat. Thank you so much for pointing it out so bluntly.” 
That last one did not just come from the kids, but from too many of the grown-ups around my neighborhood, as well. 


I’d be lying if I said that it didn’t bother me that so many Korean people used to take the time to stop me while I was walking down the street and tell me that I was very fat. Honestly, it sucked hard. I never really thought of myself as being all that big. Yes, I know I’m chubby and I’ve dieted before, but I really didn’t think I was that big when I got here. I was exactly the average clothing size for an American woman. But Korean people, and especially Korean women, are not at all like American women in that respect. They’re teeny-tiny. As a matter of fact, I was just having a conversation with one of my students yesterday and she told me (very proudly) that her mother is 161 centimeters (5’3”) and 45 kilograms (99 pounds). Now, I’m no expert, but I’m looking at the Rush University Medical Center website and according to their ideal height and weight chart, she’s actually underweight (ideal for 5’3” is anything between 104-127 pounds). By that same token, I know that I’m beyond what my “ideal” weight would be for being 5’9”. I’m also aware that she’s closer to her ideal weight than I am to mine. Still, being my size didn’t really bother me very much. It bothered me that people were so rude about it, but my size and weight didn’t really bug me. 


Actually, I decided to take all of the things that were so “weird” about my physical appearance and own them. I mean, really own them. I decided to stop wearing bigger clothing that would hide my curves (boobs, butt, and hips) and just wear whatever I thought was cute. I decided to stop straightening my hair every day and just let my hair do its thing. I decided that I would flaunt my skin color (I never thought I’d have to flaunt it, since so many people back home either had skin like mine or they paid a lot of money to get a tan like mine) and be an advocate for the, “Just because we have dark skin doesn’t mean that we’re sad or evil” crowd. I decided that I would own my giantesque eyes, but also point out that their eyes were beautiful as well. I decided that I’d strut down the street, proudly, because of the fact that I can see clearly over the heads of the vast majority of the people here and that I never need a stool to help me reach the jars on the top shelf. I even owned the whole “small face” thing, even though I still don’t really know what they’re talking about. But, overall, I decided to really own my size. 


Too many of them seemed to have this idea that because I was chubby, I was automatically ugly, undesirable, lonely, and pathetic. They would make comments like, “Maybe if you lose weight, you will find man to want to be your husband.” My response, at first, was always that I actually had a boyfriend and that I had been engaged twice previously, but I decided it wasn’t for me. After a while, though, I just realized that I didn’t need to explain myself and that I should just be me and enjoy myself regardless of how many rude comments I got. As it turns out, I actually did end up losing some weight because of the difference in life style here compared to what it was back home. It wasn’t a huge amount, but it was nice because I wasn’t even trying.

Anyway, up until today, I am still chubby and I’ve been ok with it. The only thing that has really bothered me is the lack of clothing that actually fits me in this country. It’s bad enough that I already have limited options because I’m so much taller than most of the people here, but another major problem is that pretty much all of the clothing that is sold here is “One Size”. That means, obviously, that they only make it in one size and your choices are limited to either making sure that you remain skinny, or you walk around naked… 

I don’t know about you, but I have a little bit of a problem with the idea of walking around nakers, no matter how much I own my curves. 

I’ve tried ordering clothes from back home, but the problem is that it becomes astronomically expensive and inconvenient to buy clothes from home because… 
A) I’m always running the risk that they won’t fit well because I can’t try them on first. 
B) I have to pay for shipping to get them to my mom’s house and then I have to pay shipping to have her send them to Korea. 
C) When I buy from a website that delivers straight to Korea, the clothes are disgustingly expensive and then Korean Customs holds my package for ransom at Incheon Airport because they ALSO feel the need to charge me import taxes. 
By the way, Korea, we need to have a serious conversation about your lack of logical thinking and consideration when it comes to this. If you were to simply make clothes in a variety of sizes, all of us non-underweight (and I do mean non-underweight, not just chubby) people would be more than happy to purchase our clothes from you and you would get ALL of the business, instead of being bitter about us buying clothing from abroad and then slapping us with a major tax. But I digress…


I recently started looking at other options because buying clothes from home was just completely inconvenient and hugely costly. I decided to try to have a tailor make simple clothing for me, so I went with a friend to buy some fabric and then took it to a nearby tailor to have her make me a skirt…
THE WOMAN WANTED TO CHARGE ME 5O BUCKS TO MAKE ONE SKIRT!!! And she didn’t even have to go get the fabric because it was already there, sitting in front of her!! Maybe If I was back home and a tailor told me that it was gonna be $50 for one skirt, then I wouldn’t be so upset because the cost of everything there is MUCH higher than it is here. 


I’m sorry, but that’s below the belt. How much more difficult can one place make it for someone like me to be able to wear clothes? 
I can’t find clothes that fit me here. 
I can’t order them from overseas because I have to pay for shipping, shipping again, and then import tax. Seriously, my cost for clothes here is astronomical.
And I can’t have my clothes made for me because the tailors take advantage and jack up the prices. It’s almost as if they all got together and thought, “Hmmm… What else can we do to completely destroy their sense of self-worth and dignity? They refuse to look the way we tell them they have to look, so we’ll just f*uck with them until they cave.” 


Well, Korea, you did it. Congratulations to you. I have finally decided that I am going to lose weight so that I can just buy some freaking clothes and try to salvage whatever is left of my dignity. It’s not bad around my foreign friends because I know they get me and that they accept me for who I am. My dignity is still intact when I’m around them. But seriously, Korea! You know, people are different, and that’s ok! Stop trying to make everyone fit into your cookie cutter idea of what everyone should be like. 


Anyway, my friend and I decided to go on a strict diet and work-out program so that we can lose some weight and finally be able to buy some clothes. They may still not fit because I’m so tall, but at least it’ll be easier to buy shorts, t-shirts, and skirts. Shoes are a whole other Oprah that I won’t go into right now. 


*Sigh* You know what, Korea? I love you, but sometimes you drive me nuts when it comes to things like these. I’m going to go ahead and lose the weight, but there are things about me that I refuse to let you change and that you can’t change even if you try. 


Me llamo Marisol Tena. Soy Chicana y tengo la piel morena. No me vengan con sus cremas blanqueadoras, porque yo no las quiero. Tengo el pelo chino y alborotado y no lo quiero controlar. Soy alta, tengo curvas, y si ustedes no las aprecian, creanme que otra gente si lo hacen. Espero que con el tiempo ustedes vean la belleza en otra gente de la misma manera que nosotros hemos visto la belleza en ustedes.