
I would like to talk about my recent experience concerning the constant battle of Korean culture vs. fear of English teachers. This is a completely true account of events last week that I am seeking legal action against.
I am raising this issue so that other people can be mindful of what they may have to deal with entering Korea from their much needed vacations.
Upon returning from a weeklong vacation in Malaysia, my excitement to return to my new home in Korea turned very ugly, very quickly. I was randomly pulled from the customs line of about 200 people and asked if my bags could be searched. Being filled with only dirty, sandy clothes, I did not see a problem. Then things turned strange.
The customs official took out every piece of clothing from my bag, leaving my roommate's untouched. My dirty underwear was now on display, and even on the floor of Incheon International Airport. But I let it go, and knew I had nothing to hide, save a few smelly bits of clothing.
Then, a man took our passports for a brief moment and asked us to go into a small side room with him and two others. When he closed the door, he claimed I had ``drug residue" of MDMA (the compound that makes ``Ecstasy") on my passport. My roommate's passport (which had been in the same bag or pocket for most of the return flight) was clear, leading me to believe it was all faked. Confused and knowingly innocent, we asked for more information and what this meant. To this, we were given no answer other than we had to give up our wallets and watches for tests, which came back ``positive" as well.
Then they framed me: They wanted to test my hands for ``drugs." After two tests that came back ``negative," they told me to hold my passport before the third test, to which I naturally refused as that would leave ``residue" on my hands. After trying to force the passport into my hands, they simply swabbed the passport, my watch, then my fingers and walked out, while I was screaming to my roommate, ``They are framing me! Look! Help!"
Of course, they returned to tell me I had drugs on my hands as well. We were horrified. Next, I was stripped to my underwear and told if I had to use the bathroom, I would need a chaperone. Little did I know this chaperon would stand in front of me, fighting the stall door open, and watch me defecate while chatting on his cell phone, laughing and pointing at me. It was the most humiliating moment of my life, not to mention the most uncertain.
I was then led back into the room, where my roommate was waiting, as they left him alone this whole time. They told me, verbatim, ``All English teacher use drug on vacation, we know it. We cannot trust you, you do drug."
Astonished at this generalization and lack of chance to prove my innocence, as I do not use drugs, I simply stammered they must test my blood or urine. To this suggestion, they refused. In their frustratingly broken English, they told me I could not be released from the airport, to which I replied ``But I live in Korea." They responded, ``You must go to home country!"
They were threatening me with deportation, flat-out. I was unable to speak or to defend myself. Everything I said was met with ``NO" and ``English teacher do drugs." And then it was over. He told me not to use drugs next time I go on vacation and to leave. And I left, disgraced and humiliated.
I could rant about the far-reaching cultural implications this has for Korea: perpetuating their xenophobic habits and their thinly-veiled solidarity against English teachers (and all foreigners), but all of that should be obvious. Inhumane treatment is illegal and disgusting. It does nothing to bridge the gap between foreigners and their national cohabitants. It just made me very sad to be back in Korea, a place I used to think was my home.
The writer is working for a highly respected school system, and has lived in Korea for more than a year. He can be reached at awashko@gmail.com.