dogs, plastic surgery and pantyhose

I've fully exploited my closeness with my host in Seoul by treating her as the representative of all things Korean and bombarding her with every question that comes to mind about her homeland.

Being the near-saint that she is, she has responded good-naturedly about eating dogs (A: No, hardly anybody eats dogs; only certain specialty shops serve dog meat as a novelty) and plastic surgery (A: I doubt plastic surgery is any more rampant here than in the U.S. and, no, I don't know anyone who's had calf-reduction surgery). As much as she tried to maintain her composure, I could tell that it's frustrating to have to defend one's culture against caricaturization.

I expected her answers, but somehow visiting Seoul and hearing from a native finally settled these queries. Just as whatever politically-correct beliefs I might have held, it took friendships with African, African-American, Mormon, Jewish, Japanese folks to expose my secret and not-so-secret prejudices. Real relationships with real people - not theoretical recitations - humbled and corrected me. Or at least started the process.

My friend tells me that some benefits accrue to her as well, mainly from seeing her city through new eyes. For example, she had never noticed that the fixtures intended to prevent cars from driving on the sidewalks look like Roman gladiator helmets. Or that women in skirts and shorts wear stockings - every single one of them. As did my friend, who didn't always wear stockings in America. When I asked her, her immediate explanation (protection from the elements) was not what I had expected (lady-likeness). After some consideration, she concluded that her habit of doing so was primarily an act of unthinking conformity to the practices of those around her. During our afternoon outing, she excused herself, then returned less protected from the elements, but a little more herself.