Friday, November 26, 2010

Proud to be Korean in China




This year's Asian Games in Guangzhou has drawn my attention to what it means to be nationalistic. China is currently heading for its 200th gold medal, while Korea and Japan follow a far 2nd and 3rd place in terms of medal counts. It also made me think about how Chinese nationalism differs from that of Korea, and today I'm going to discuss how I view Chinese and Korean nationalism, but mostly concentrate on the origins and development of Korean nationalism.


Let me begin with an interesting fact.

How many times do you think Big Boy China invaded its small neighbor Korea in the past?

50 times? 100 times? 200 times?

NO, the answer is 922 times. And China regretted every single one of it.

Surprised? Well, it is only fair then to give some credit to the doggedness of the Korean ancestors to protect and remain as an independent nation. I personally think that the roots of Korean nationalism can be traced far before the mythology of Dan-Gun, who is viewed by Korean as the father of the first Korean people. Legend has it that Dan-Gun's mother was a bear who desperately wanted to become human. Her dream obviously came true since she gave birth to the one of the greatest man in Korean history, but she was only able to do this after being stuck in a cave without sunlight, surviving only on 2o pieces of garlic and some garlic for 100 days. I guess she's the first Korean to go on a diet.

I want to further my claim that Korean nationalism probably formed much earlier and was much stronger than that of both Chinese and Japanese.

IF you ever take a look at the East Asia map, Korea really has no special geographic characteristics that can justify it being an independent nation. China is enormous and Japan is an island, so their state formation was quite natural. But Korea? Why isn't Korea part of some regional province of China? I mean, all Korea is on the map is a small protrusion on the side of China's belly.

Yet, Korea, after 922 Chinese invasions, after two World Wars, after the strategic power plays of big nations, still stands on its own. If the Korean people did not have a clear sense of who they were (Koreans often call themselves the "pure people"), resisted foreign invasions with all their might, there may not be a nation called Korea today.

Now, I would like to address how Korean nationalism differs from that of Chinese. If I had to pick one person who I think shaped the Chinese identity, I would pick none other than Lao Mao (老毛). Mao Zedong probably did more to carve a sense of Chinese nationalism than anyone else in Chinese history, despite his massive failures with the Cultural Revolution. Mao created the very spirit of the Chinese nation, and one-party system in which every citizen is to be responsive to the state.

Chinese nationalism is mostly state-driven. The Chinese term for nationalism is 爱国(ai4guo2), meaning “love for your country.” But I have been talking to some Chinese people from various working sectors, and they tell me that Chinese nationalism actually does not really exist in a concrete form. To the Chinese, nationalism is not so much “love for one’s country” but more close to “respect to the state.” There are also many indifferent Chinese. You can just take a look at the how the Chinese government fosters their Olympic athletes, for example. Unlike the club sport system of America and the U.K., Chinese government pays for the entire training of an athlete from the very beginning stage to the end. The athletes are, of course, expected to win glory and honor for the state in return. A contact of mine who works at the International Crisis Group told me that the reason why Chinese do not raise particular objections to the government is not because they think their present condition is fantastic, but because Chinese people have very low expectation of their government. For most of China’s modern history, people were starving and even getting through a single day was an arduous task. Now with the Deng Xiaoping’s economic reforms, at least people have food on their table. So even with the stark wealth gap between the wealthy and the poor, environmental problems, and other problems bottling up, Chinese people still leave the government in charge.

Korean nationalism, on the other hand, developed on a much more citizen-based, grassroots level. Korea has always been a country in which the liberal sentiment has been particularly strong especially down in the deeper South (all of the contemporary presidents prior to current president Lee Myung-Bak have all been from the liberal party).

But as Korean pop-music, movies, and entertainment programs became hugely popular in other Asian countries starting in the late 90s, the Koreans’ sense of national pride also soared. The Korean ahjumas (a literal translation of this would be Mrs., but this word often carries a stronger connotation and refers to strong woman power) began to boast their nation’s pop culture success, and Korean students studying abroad in other countries also began to feel proud of their mother country. The peak of Korean grassroots nationalism was reached at the 2002 World Cups, in which Korean citizens created a striking cheerleading phenomenon known as the “Be the Reds.”

The Reds were completely citizen-organized movement that gained even greater momentum as the Korean Soccer team continued their marvelous victory strike.

IN 2002, EVERY KOREAN WAS THE REDS. EVERY KOREAN WANTED TO BE THE REDS. IT WAS A TRUE UNIFICATION OF THE KOREAN SOUL.

The extent of this cheerleading phenomenon reached overseas, where Korean immigrants in different countries also organized their own cheerleading groups. I still vividly remember the fire of this movement in LA, where after every victorious game, all Korean would march out to the streets shouting, clapping, and using their car claxon to recreate the cheer theme song.

This year’s Asian Games has been a great success for the Chinese. China broke several world records and will win the most medals. Best of all, most of China’s athletes are in their early 20s, which means China can look forward to more success at the 2010 London Olympics Games. No doubt many Chinese are extremely proud of their athletes.

But I’m still uneasy about the nature of this Chinese nationalism. When I say I’m proud to be Korean in China, I don’t think about the money that my nation has given me to win my medal, or the one-party system, which guarantees astronomical economic development. I’m proud to be Korean for the more natural reasons, for the singers, for the soccer games, normal things that any young people would be excited over.

Of course, China is currently in no mood to ponder about their source of nationalism, or many of the internal problems. Even though I have been noticing Chinese government is increasingly becoming more responsive to its people, the motto of Chinese government still remains “ACHIEVEMENT RIGHT NOW”, not five, ten years from now.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Perception and Art

What always amazes me about the Art World is that art is not only ever-so-changing and fluid, but the angle in which you perceive the object can mean EVERYTHING to an art piece.

Still, what does this mean? Truly coming to understand this has always been my biggest puzzle, and I will be the first to admit that I've said this many times without giving its meaning a second thought. I don't know if this was because I have just come to accept this as an established fact, or if it was because I somehow believed that saying this will win me an automatic entrance in learning how to truly appreciate art beyond the mere surface aesthetics of the focus object.
There's actually a perfect Chinese phrase for this that I just learned. It's 不懂装懂 (Bu4dong3zhuang1dong3), meaning you pretend to understand something when you actually don't.


I got very excited at an art gallery in 798 Arts District in China this weekend because I found the very piece that can perfectly express this incredible importance of the angle in which you perceive an object.

I now invite you to take a peek at this wonder yourself.



A human figure


Same Piece, difference angle, Part I


Same Piece, difference angle, Part II


Same Piece, different angle, Part III


The astonishing discrepancy among the three figures rises of course from the fact that
all of these figures are made not out of clay, but pieces of thin, Chinese traditional paper.
If you take a closer look at the human figure close-up (Picture 1), you can see the fine lines of thin papers lined on top of another.

I always find it always so fulfilling to make a discovery that can quench the thirst I held for the longest time. In this case, an art gallery in 798 Arts District, Beijing worked the magic.



Friday, November 5, 2010

Beijing Opera



This week, I went to see Beijing Opera, renowned for its history and symbolic movements.
First becoming immensely popular during the late 18th century Qing Dynasty, Beijing Opera
boasts more than 200 years of history and tradition. Some of my friends have already warned me not to expect to understand a word the actors are saying; not only do the actors speak with high-pitched voices, but they also tend to extend the sound of words, making it incredibly difficult to understand.


One extra unexpected bonus to seeing Beijing Opera is that you get to watch the actors
put on their make-up, for this part of the back stage is open to public. Beijing Opera Style of Face Painting, or Jingju Lianpu in Chinese, is characterized by its exaggerated features and different colors to symbolize the personality traits of the character. For instance, red and black painted faces both represent loyalty, uprightness, and intrepidity of character's personality. Yellow, on the other hand, symbolizes brutality and inhumanity.


Even though I definitely appreciated actors' graceful and controlled movements, Beijing Opera was not my cup of tea to be completely honest. I don't think I quite understood why it took
an hour just to act out a nun getting on to a boat. The story went something like this.

1) A nun appears saying that she has fallen in love with someone and laments her situation
2) Apparently her love has taken a boat to some other city
3) The nun decides to follow her love and looks for a boat
4) The boatman is a eighty year old man who's crazy and thinks he is eighteen because he can "throw" his age to the river
5) the rest of the story is basically the nun being afraid to get on the boat because she has never ridden a boat before, and the boatman assuring her that the boat is safe
6) the kicker is the nun's lover doesn't make one appearance, and the audience actually never even see them reunite.


But still, Beijing Opera's unique interpretation of the world around us was enough to
keep me in awe for the evening.
I just hope that Beijing Opera will soon find a way to revive the reclining interest of the public and bring about a new evolution to this ancient art.