Friday, March 18, 2011

Ajummas

Recently, I’ve come to a very important decision. When I grow up, I want to be an ajumma. I can’t help it. After living in Korea for the past 16 months, I have decided that ajummas, while a little scary and intimidating, are actually awesome.

An ajumma is a certain type of Korean woman. She is probably over 65 years old. Also, she is tiny! Ajummas are like 4’6” and weigh something like 75 lbs. They are also quite fond of dying their very short hair shoeshine black and perming it into super tight curls. On top of this, ajummas don’t care about conventional fashion. An ajumma will wear plaid, fuchsia parachute pants with a gold, silver and red flowered sparkly sweater and dare you to say something.

During the summer, ajummas take on a whole new level of ajumma-ness. In the summer, they go into Suntan Avoidance Mode. In Korean culture, pasty white skin is highly valued and ajummas believe this more than anyone else. They will go out in the middle of an August afternoon completely covered from head to toe. They will wear long sleeved shirts, long pants, closed shoes, and gloves. On top of it, they will wear the biggest sun visor that you have ever seen. Those things seriously look like welding helmets. It’s insane.

What I like most about ajummas are their attitudes. Ajummas run this country. No one dares to cross them. They will do the most socially inappropriate things and no one says a word. I’ve been yelled at, elbowed, body checked, and made to move by random ajummas all over Korea. Why? Because that’s what ajummas do. They do what they want and you can’t say a word because they are old ladies and this country has great respect for their elders. Plus, an ajumma will give you this crazy evil eye look that kinda makes you want to cry and apologize for even thinking that she had no right to elbow you in the kidney like that. That’s just how they are.

I’ve come to the conclusion that my own grandmother, Nanny, was really a white ajumma. Nanny was aggressive, loud, sarcastic, and made random people cry all the time. She would have fit right in with the Korean ajummas.

Like any bully, ajummas travel in gangs. I think they do this in case someone tries to stand up to them. They always have backup in case the young try to revolt against being pushed around the subway.

Technically, in Korean, ajumma means something to the effective of “a married woman or a woman old enough to be married.” So, that currently makes me an ajumma. The slang meaning of ajumma is quite different. The slang meaning is the one that I am using here.

Younger Korean women tend to be the absolute opposite of ajummas. They are kind, polite, and very fashionable. Plus, they are of normal heights. I’m not sure exactly when a Korean woman becomes an ajumma. Is it a gradual process or, on your 65th birthday, do you just morph into a hardcore ajumma? I’ll have to investigate so that I too can become an ajumma.

All in all, I have a lot of work ahead of me. But, if I can become ruder, more aggressive, and figure out how to somehow shrink nine inches, I too will one day be an ajumma.


These ajummas are rocking their big visors.
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This is a fine example of the Ajumma Perm.
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This woman is not quite an ajumma. She doesn't have the hair. Plus, she isn't wearing any odd prints. She does, however, have the visor and her jacket has strange bedazzling on the sleeves. I think she might be 64 years old and, therefore, not a full ajumma.
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These women are hardcore ajummas. I actually took this picture shortly after they pushed me. I was just about to step onto the escalator when I was shoved aside by the first ajumma. They all then jumped onto the escalator. I took a picture of them from the back but, I wasn't brave enough to take a picture of their faces. I really didn't want to add "Beat Down by Ajummas" to my list of experiences in Korea.
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Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Sad & Foreign

Many people have wondered how I am able to function in Korea without actually speaking any Korean. Well, it’s easy. All I have to do is look sad and foreign. Koreans feel so sorry when I look sad and foreign that they can’t help but find some English for me. I think it’s a combination of compassion, hospitality, and them thinking that I’m a little slow.

Here is an example of this:

Me: Excuse me, ma’am, do you speak English?

Lady at the Store: (panicked look)….아니 (No in Korean)…. 한국식으로 물건 (Way more stuff in Korean).

Me: Ummm, I was wondering if this stain pre-treater works on colored clothing as well as whites.

Lady at the Store: …한국식으로 물건

Me: OK…for …colors? (points at the bottle and then at my black shirt) Ok?

-Now I unleash my sad and foreign look-

Lady at the Store: …한국식으로 물건... (gestures for me to wait)

The lady then gets someone who speaks like two words of English. Then, that person attempts to speak to me. In turn, that person gets someone who speaks like five words of English. Now, that person gets someone who speaks like ten words of English. Before you know it, they actually find someone who speaks enough English to answer my question.

One time, I was at a store and wanted to buy a Korea World Cup t-shirt. I asked the clerk how much the shirt was. Sadly, despite the fact I attempted to ask in Korean, she didn’t understand me. But, no problem. She whipped out her cell phone and called some 12 year old girl who spoke decent English. That kid was able to translate for me and I found out the price of the shirt. The clerk even kept the kid on hold until I left the store; just in case I had another question.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Jen’s not Korean. She always looks foreign in Korea.” Well, you’re right. I do always look foreign in Korea. But, I don’t always look sad. It is the special combination of sad and foreign that gets me around. So far, I have not found anything that I wasn’t able to do. I’ve found plenty of things that were difficult to do but, nothing that was impossible to do. That is the power of looking sad and foreign.


I tried to take a picture of me looking sad and foreign but, I'm not much of an actress. I can't do it on command. All I can do on command is look kinda dumb and foreign. Or, according to Brandy, guilty and foreign.