A Singaporean In Australia

I have always been an admirer of Japanese culture, still am. I love those days where Korea has nothing to do with our lives, other than contributing electronic goods and cheap soft cars. Now they are all over the place. Their music, girls, guys, food, you name it. Yucks.

I hate Korean food. I understand why they love to serve many bits of food in a meal, because each dish is not delicious enough for anyone to gobble down in huge quantities. I still prefer the imperfect Japanese look than the plastic barbie Korean babe. Their language sound awkward to me, I don't like the intonation of the language. It makes Korean girls sound tough the way Thai makes the men sound soft. Japanese is perfect in this aspect.

God is angry with my nationalism and sent me on a reformation. When I first came to work, about a month ago, there was 2 Koreans working with me. I made fun of Jang Hoon, the handsome younger chap when I asked him where he was from during his introduction.

"Korea."

"North or South?"

It made him grin.

Dave Cho was the other Korean. I am not sure what he real name is. He gave himself an English name, David. He looked like those typical Korean stud in the movies. Tall, fair and smiles a lot. He is a Permanent Resident and hardly speak much English. Don't ask me how he passed his IELTS.

One good month passed. It seemed like Koreans have the abilities to spawn. It could have slipped my mind but I did notice there were more and more Koreans joining us at work. Are they ghost workers or what? Last night I was munching my sandwich for dinner, there was 6 Koreans in the room (now it feels crowded) with me. The smell of kimchi flooded the room, part of the reformation torturing training.

I couldn't keep up with the names. A cheeky tall beefy dude called Young Hwon or something. A stout guy with yellowish mushroom head hairstyle smiles a lot at me. I've yet to figure out his name. I find it much easier to remember Japanese names. Korean names are as difficult as Myanmar.

Having said that, I find these chaps very good workers. They work tirelessly, uncompromisingly but they stop on time and are not work obsessed like the Japanese. The Koreans are generous in sharing their knowledge and skills with me. They regard me as part of the team, not part of the competition. They are sincere and even perform demonstrations for me when I'm unsure. These tough guys went through National Service like me, definitely much tougher stints as their enemies are real, not imaginary. I felt a connection.

The guys sat around during 'smoko' the other day. Steve the Australian night supervisor commented that no wars took place on Australian land before, not even a civil war unlike Korea. I told him the Korea war was not a civil war in my opinion. The Koreans were manipulated and made to fight against their own people by external entities. Till this date, unification looks impossible. It's sad. Still, the people of South Korea brushed aside the threats at their gates and rose rapidly in all economic fronts for the last few decades. Zorro Lim would be proud to use them as his "Cheaper, better, faster" example and he probably would be right for a change.

I have not spoken or interacted with a Korean woman before. I have no idea if I will change my opinion about them in future. They men certainly did. Great dudes, my colleagues are. I may even start learning a word or two and start to 'yo' with them. I'm definitely not tasting Korean food though. That'll take more than a reformation course. How about grafting a new tongue?

Last night I had to walk further where Barry White was parked. The cars in front of me belonged to the Koreans, the queue had noticeably lengthen. I took a closer look.

Daihatsu Cuore . Toyota Vienta . Mitsubishi Lancer . Toyota Corolla . Toyota Camry . Honda Civic

None of them drove a Korean make. I chuckled at the irony as I held my breath and made my way past their cars through the shivering cold.