By Lee Chang-kook
For some period immediately after my retirement from university I had to confront an uncomfortable question: "What are you doing?” It came to me with a new sound and meaning.
Whenever and wherever I met with my friends or former colleagues, they never failed to ask me this question. At first it embarrassed me and I did not like it. It reminded me of my changed social status and of my uselessness and powerlessness. I was not prepared to answer that question properly and promptly then.
Five years have passed since. Still the same question is the most frequent one being put to me, but I am well accustomed to it by now. Now I realize that it is not so much a question as a greeting. I know they are not sincerely curious about what I am doing.
I acknowledge their inquiry simply by saying, "Nothing in particular," with a smile. With this simple and meaningless answer everything is settled and everybody is satisfied and happy. Furthermore I find myself asking the same question often when I meet people who have retired recently.
But there are some few who are sincerely eager to know what I am doing after my retirement. They are usually my junior colleagues who have just retired or who have just a few more years left to go. Like students who have just entered college they are full of new hopes and worries.
Calm and confident as they seem outwardly, inwardly they are worried and anxious for the future spread out before them like a vast and unexplored space with infinite time and possibility. They need some useful tips or hints on how to cope with this brave new world. It is quite natural for them to expect to hear from me, a “senior” in the “school of retirement,” a piece of valuable advice, something more than "nothing in particular."
Recently the concept of retirement has undergone a sea-change due to many social, economic and scientific reasons and developments. No retirees nowadays seem to stop working and take a rest, and lead an idle and relaxed life. Far from it.
For them it is a new opportunity, as most people now enjoy unprecedented material affluence, physical health and an ever increasing span of life. They are not tired of their long career, nor do they want to lay down the heavy burden on their back. They are like long-distance runners standing at the starting line for another race. They are excited and ambitious to do something new.
Far from being crestfallen or downhearted as I was before the retirement, these new retirees are full of interesting new plans and tight schedules.
Some plan to learn dancing; some the art of photography; or painting; some are planning to travel abroad like Marco Polo and write a great travelogue; and some are going to study Chinese, Latin or even Greek. To sum up, they want to do something that they wanted to do but could not during their previous career for many reasons. Usually they wish to do something with more passion, enthusiasm and indulgence. No one is going to be idle, lazy or relaxed.
Although I dismiss or disregard the question "What are you doing?" by saying "Nothing in particular" with a smile in public, privately I find myself doing everything that I did before ― except for teaching students in the classroom.
I get up early, nay, earlier than before, make coffee and drink it regularly ― three cups a day ― shave cleanly and devotedly in the morning, go out to meet friends or to visit sick friends from time to time, attend wedding ceremonies and funeral services, go hiking once a week, read books, magazines and newspapers. I regularly send some money to UNICEF.
I write, watch TV, and take a walk after supper. I am currently serving as the president of an elementary school alumni association. As I said above, what I don't do since my retirement is teach students at school and be paid for that. But, what a difference before and after retirement!
Alas! They take it for granted that I am doing nothing or have nothing to do. They think of me dozing on the sofa all day watching TV and dying of boredom; I have become idle and lazy, and irregular. No! Never! I even set alarm on my table clock to wake me up at five in the morning without fail and begin my day.
I don't take a nap which I used to enjoy so much before. I never stay awake late at night watching TV. But, alas, what's the use of all this diligence and industry? All unnecessary, futile and untimely! Nobody cares what I am doing, although everybody asks me what I am doing. I am sad and angry.
What makes me angrier and sadder is the fact that I came to miss even this empty and meaningless inquiry now. Recently I rarely hear it addressed to me by anybody around. I realize that they have lost their appetite of asking even that question. It is apparent that they have ceased to show a scintilla of interest in me.
I am completely forgotten already. They never mind whether I am still alive or already dead. I miss the time when I was pelted with that puzzling and disturbing question. Being left alone at home I often find myself muttering the same question: "What are you doing?" I ask and I answer: "Nothing in particular," with a sigh.
Lee Chang-kook is professor emeritus at Chung-Ang University. He can be reached at cklee@cau.ac.kr.