Oh, so that’s what I am(Part 1)

It’s a long way from Gwangalli Beach to our yeogwan in Jungang-dong. It’s not too late yet—maybe, 10:30—and there’s still time to catch the subway back. But, after walking much more than was necessary(thanks to crappy Lonely Planet directions—NEVER buy Lonely Planet: Korea), it’s late enough and we’re tired enough. We hail a taxi—one of the cheap gray ones—and Jane slips into the front seat as Kaila and I take the back.

Jane always seems to be able to get our taxi drivers talking and the driver tonight is eager and willing. With his grating sah toh lee(accent—every Korean not from Seoul has a sah toh lee) though, it’s a little bit harder to make out what he’s saying.

We’re well along our way back when the driver asks her about me.

“Oh, his mother’s Korean,” she explains.

“ahh… honhyol…”

“Is that what you call a half-Korean,” she asks, curiously. We’ve been wondering what the Korean word is for some time now.

“Well, yes,” he answers, cautioning, “but if you call a mixed-Korean that, it will put them in a bad mood.”
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It’s Saturday, five pm. We’ve spent the afternoon at Haeundae Beach and now we’re meeting the high school friend of my good high school friend's roomate from Berlin who I met while staying with them during spring break. How's that for degrees of seperation?

He met us with his girlfriend at the subway station and we walked to a chicken place nearby where they ordered a spicy chicken dish unique to Busan for us. Switching back-and-forth between Korean and English, we talked about eegeot jeogeot(this and that) as we stuffed ourselves with delicious, spicy chicken.

The friend's roomate's friend asks me if half-Koreans experience a lot of discrimination in the states.

“Not really,” I answer. Kaila and Jane join me to explain that most people think that half-Asians are attractive and intelligent.

I ask about what it’s like Korea.

“Oh, yeah, they do,” he tells me. He adds that he thinks the situation isn’t too bad for half-white/half Koreans. It’s the worst for children of African-American/Korean marriages. And it’s not much better for children of Southeast Asian/Korean marriages. While white Americans might not be able to differentiate among Asians(i.e. every teacher at my high school…Gloria McMillan: “Steven…John Lee…I mean Jame”), Koreans most definitely can.

“Our taxi driver last night told me that half-Koreans are called honhyol,” I tell him.

That’s right, he explains, adding that it’s a pretty derogatory term.