I used scissors and glue more in the last week than I did in the previous fifteen years. Halloween preparations at our hagwon were no laughing matter - by all accounts, the school takes this holiday more seriously than Christmas. Working late into the night, getting callouses from cutting out countless numbers of deformed ghosts and vampires, shouting ourselves hoarse in an elaborate haunted house...this is what Halloween means in Korea.
But, to be fair, there were some very enjoyable moments as well. If you've ever worked on any project of considerable scope, you know the odd sort of camaraderie that can only develop when multiple people are working diligently (if perhaps a bit unwillingly as well) for an extended period of time. And in this endeavor, the amazing work ethics of the Korean co-teachers put a quick end to any complaints we foreigners might have had. This didn't stop us from occasionally griping about the long hours without overtime, of course, but it was really inspiring to see the lengths to which our Korean coworkers went to make the celebration a success.
Generally speaking, Halloween is not a big deal in Korea. However, the influx of English teachers in the last decade or so has brought a heightened awareness of the holiday, and today it is celebrated by many young people. Especially in the hagwons, Halloween serves as a bit of cultural education and the kids seem to be quite enthusiastic about it. In keeping with the adventurous capitalistic spirit of Korea, merchants are beginning to realize the value of catering to this niche market. In a mid-sized city like Cheonan, there is only one store that sells Halloween costumes and decorations, but there is a bustling Internet marketplace where one can buy all sorts of overpriced paraphernalia. It would not be surprising if, in five years, the Halloween shopper has far more local options to purchase jack o'lanterns and witch hats.
Still, it is easy to forget that October 31st has any real significance, other than being the last day before November. This has certain benefits, because if you step outside the foreigner community (which wholeheartedly celebrates the day in true Western, booze-drenched style) you quickly realize how celebrations like Halloween, New Year's, Valentine's Day, etc. are entirely constructed by society, and lack any intrinsic meaning. For those of us that experience anxiety around the holidays, feeling some external pressure to "properly" celebrate, this can be a real relief.
The Halloween celebration provided an interesting look at the confusing and fragmented nature of Korean culture. Our late-night work sessions were made much easier by the kindness of several parents who brought delicious meals for the entire staff. A handful of dedicated and detail-oriented mothers came in and set up elaborate balloon decorations. And on the day of the party, our desks were filled with oranges, pastries, and other treats from the parents.
But the highly competitive nature of Korean society also reared its ugly head that day. Our head teacher, who had worked so hard to prepare the school for the Halloween party, was reduced to tears by the biting words of the school's director. The director apparently felt that the event was lacking in some regard, and took out her full frustration on the head teacher. At the end of such a stressful week, one that had seen her log 15 hour days in order to complete the preparations, this was an almost unbearable attack. As I watched her sob uncontrollably at her desk, I saw how the relentless pursuit of perfection that characterizes Korean society today can take a heavy toll on a person's state of mind. Striving for constant improvement is a noble goal, but a risky one as well - it's easy to get caught up in the urge to be "better" and forget that the end goal is a simple one - happiness.
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