By Andrew Salmon
As my legions of regular readers will be aware (hi mum, I know you are reading this) I have recently been traveling in France and the UK. As the thermometer climbs, the tourism season is well underway, and Western Europe is overrun with international tourists.
Though they may be outnumbered by the omnipresent Chinese, I have been struck by the behavior and appearance of the Korean travelers one can’t help encountering at airports, railway and subway stations.
The members of this tribe are predominantly in their 20s and 30s. They are largely youths, couples and young families. Most seem to speak at least a smattering of French or English; some speak these languages very well indeed. Virtually all are good looking, impeccably and well-mannered: In short, these Kims, Parks and Lees are a credit to their country.
What a wonderful change they make from the Korean tourists of a decade or so ago!
I shudder to recall the ajumma and ajeossi tour groups of those days. They were gruff, noisy, woefully dressed. They were pushy, ill-mannered, and culturally insensitive. They smoked ceaselessly, drank furiously, and left a reek of kimchi in their wake.
In fact, so un-cosmopolitan was the first generation of Koreans to storm the globe’s unsuspecting tourism destinations in the early- and mid-1990s that they earned a notorious reputation: ``The Ugly Koreans.”
And yet that generation ― those who were in their 50s and 60s in the 1990s, the decade when denizens of this peninsula first started traveling abroad en masse ― were, perhaps, the greatest Koreans who ever lived.
Were they intrinsically great, or did they have it thrust upon them? Probably the latter, for theirs was the generation which, after the Korean War, became a blunt but powerful tool in the hands of the authoritarian leadership as they engineered a story that would astonish the world.
Yet one could equally call them victims ― for in an era when the achievement of growth targets was a sacred national duty, they were ruthlessly sacrificed on the altar of economics.
Their lot was toil, blood, sweat and tears. They did not play; they worked. They did not spend; they saved. They gave up youth, leisure, family life and in many cases, health and happiness.
Amid these hardships, they cultivated endurance, personal warmth, earthy humor and a willingness to forego the good things in life so their children and grandchildren would have better opportunities.
If there was a vulgarity to their culture; if there was a roughness to their manners; if they had little eye for style or for design ― can they be blamed?
Like (I suspect) most Seoul-based expatriates, I am more at ease with today’s generation. Unlike their predecessors, they are sophisticated, attractive. Their global awareness and outlook; their ever-growing tolerance for diversity of opinion, behavior, culture and race; their service-based mentality; their adeptness with technology ― all these are accelerating Korea from hero to superhero.
But it was their mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, grandmothers and grandfathers, who made the greater leap: They raised Korea from zero to hero, for it was they who enacted the economic miracle that raised a nation from the ashes of war and the stink of poverty.
Today, of course, we are witnessing another miracle: A social miracle. New ways of thinking have taken hold and old ways are being cast aside, to the point where despite vast gaps in history, language and culture, the ideals, lifestyles and aspirations of most Koreans today are, I would guess, very nearly the same as those of Western Europeans and North Americans.
The social miracle Korea is undergoing today was only possible due to the achievement of political democracy ― a prize won in the late 1980s. Yet that political miracle, arguably, blossomed only thanks to the prosperity and resultant growth of a middle class ― a class built on the back of economic prosperity.
Will the legacy of the nation builders of the 1960s, ‘70s and ‘80s prove as enduring as those of the warriors of Goguryeo, the craftsmen of Silla and Goryeo, the philosophers of Joseon?
It is too early to say, but the Republic of Korea is better known and more globally respected today than any state or kingdom that existed on the peninsula in the last 600 ― perhaps 2000 ― years of recorded history.
I have to say I am glad they will not be my fellow passengers on my flight back to Seoul Thursday, but the bulk of Korea’s many achievements today are due, either directly or indirectly, to ``The Ugly Koreans.”
Andrew Salmon is a Seoul-based reporter and author. His latest book “Scorched Earth, Black Snow: Britain and Australia in the Korean War, 1950” was published in June. He can be reached at andrewcsalmon@yahoo.co.uk.