Below is a copy of the article I recently submitted to the Korean Fulbright Review, a collection of writing from all the Fulbright researchers and ETAs who have spent the past year in Korea on a Fulbright grant. I wrote a blog entry that this article was based on; however, I thought I would publish this final version as well.
밥 먹어요 (I eat rice.)
By: Jennifer M. Anderson
“Do you like rice?”
It’s a question I don’t recall answering before coming to Korea. If I had been asked my answer probably would have gone something like this: “Well, I don’t not like rice, but I would never choose to eat it. When I have to eat rice, I prefer brown rice, and sometimes I don’t mind it when it’s part of a sushi roll but the rice itself, no. I guess I don’t really like rice.”
It took me very little time to realize that in Korea this answer is unacceptable. My first lesson on rice came on my first day of school. We were standing in the lunch line when my co-teacher popped the question. At the time, I was naïve enough to think he wanted an honest answer, so I said, "No, not really." To this he muttered "huh" under his breath and scooped a huge portion of rice onto my tray. "Rice is good for you; it keeps you from getting fat." When I responded with raised eyebrows, he continued, "People in places like Africa, China, and India eat rice and they're not fat." In my mind I was laughing. Here was a man who had solved America’s obesity problem by way of simple observation. Now all he had to do was tell the rest of the world! I could imagine Mr. Hyun selling his diet to thousands of Americans with a slogan like: "One cup of rice per day keeps the fat at bay."
I am living proof that Mr. Hyun’s theory is incorrect. Rice doesn’t like me as much as I don’t like it. Those small white grains do little more than convert themselves quickly into glucose, eventually surrounding my middle as if in organized protest against my body. Nonetheless, Mr. Hyun’s response to my casual dislike for such a bland food caused me to think twice about my answer to his question. It wasn’t long before I had changed tactics completely. The following day when I was confronted with the question, I could hardly leave enough time for the inquisitive mind to finish before blurting out an enthusiastic “Yes!” “Oh yes, I like rice!” Suddenly I was consumed with the desire to shout it at the top of my lungs, sing it as if it were the chorus to my life!
This brought about a new problem altogether, as I feared an overly observant person might notice the small helping of rice on my tray and ask the obvious question: “If you love rice so much, why don’t you eat more rice?” I’ve thought about this, and formulated a response in the case of such an emergency: “Because good things are best when enjoyed in small quantities.” Fortunately my skillful maneuvering of the rice particles on my tray and slow eating tactics have shielded me from this follow-up question.
You might ask yourself why I’m still in the closet about my blatant dislike for rice. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t asked myself the same question. Koreans are proud of their rice, it invades many aspects of their lives. A Korean meal is not a meal without rice. I often find myself at a restaurant, stuffed full of meat and side dishes, when the waitress arrives with a tray of steaming white rice, like a recurring nightmare only I’m not dreaming.
I have been told that eating rice at every meal is a practice resulting from a time when there were food shortages in Korea, a way of showing that Koreans do not take rice for granted. Perhaps you have heard the greeting "Have you eaten rice today?" For me this question has never radiated warmth. When I first heard it, I was horrified that Koreans would actually police the consumption of rice. I was worried my charade might finally be found out. My panic turned out to be in vain, the question was nothing more than a greeting leftover from a time when rice wasn’t as plentiful.
Korea’s relationship with rice has led some to assume that bread is to America what rice is to Korea. It is true that there are some similarities between rice and bread. For example, the way Koreans call all bread, “빵” whereas, we differentiate between cake, muffins, bagels, and so on, but consider rice to be rice. Still, bread does not play the same role for Americans that rice does for Koreans. In fact, many Americans, myself included, prefer not to consume carbohydrates at their meals at all.
Perhaps you have to experience Korea, to understand how my answer to a question as simple as “Do you like rice?” can change from one continent to the next. In reality it’s a different question altogether. In Korea, “Do you like rice?” is not a question regarding preference, but one that deals with culture. If it were about preference, there would be no right answer, and no reason to modify my answer. For a foreigner in Korea, though, there is only one right answer. The right answer is most definitely a nod in the affirmative unless you want to be outcast and grouped with the foreigners who came here to make money, the foreigners who aren’t interested in Korean culture, who don’t try to speak Korean, the foreigners who date their students and travel in packs. In Korea, this question is not about rice; “Do you like rice?” is about Korea and how open you are to this experience.
I’ve never liked rice, not Spanish rice, not wild rice, not even fried rice and especially not white rice, but in Korea I eat rice. I eat rice every day, at almost every meal even breakfast. This is one of many small concessions I’ve made in my daily life in Korea, and I am motivated by a basic human desire: acceptance. Eating rice is one of the ways I can show Koreans that I am willing to approach this experience with an open mind.
I remember a time when I witnessed a first meeting between my mother and one of my brother’s college girlfriends. She hardly looked my mother in the eye, didn’t shake her hand, hardly glancing at us while we stood talking to him. We all knew that it was a temporary relationship, but it was troublesome nonetheless. In Korea eating rice is one of the things I do to show Koreans that I care. The amount of rice I’ve consumed is tangible evidence of how much I care. I’m not going to lie, when I return to America, I may never eat rice again, but for now 밥 먹어요.
Bio:
Jennifer is originally from Roswell, New Mexico and received her B.A. from the University of Denver in Creative Writing and Spanish. Jennifer currently teaches English at Joongang Girls High School in Jeju City on Jeju Island. In July Jennifer will return to the United States to begin law school in the fall.
The man with the cap gun is the P.E. coach for the school, a really funny guy. Here the girls are doing the final relay race, and you can see that at least 3 of them do not have shoes on. This contributed to a few injuries on the track; at least 5 girls slipped and fell down, getting trampled by the other runners.
This is one of the classes doing their aerobics routine. Female teachers judged them on their aerobics skills. 
The girls had pom-poms and empty water bottles that they banged together as they cheered on their classmates. Team 8 won the cheering competition, because they were relentless. They cheered all day long, barely stopping for lunch!
Jumping rope was more difficult than it looks. The entire class goes through one at a time, without missing a beat, then they go through in doubles (holding hands), then triples, then groups of four, then five. This is class 2-7, one of my favoriet classes!
Badminton... a very popular game among girls in Korea... sort of like field hockey in the USA.
here is class 2-7 again. They were happy to pose for a picture...
The whole school doing the aerobics routine together, first thing in the morning.
Here I am with another favorite class. These girls have snow white on their t-shirts. Each class was in charge of designing their own shirts.
Here are more of my students... you can see that a few of them are wearing the towels on their heads to keep the sun of their faces...
