Pocky Central

I am an only child. But I have a lot of brothers and sisters.

This is because of two things - one, the way my family (a fairly traditional Korean one) works, and my habit of ‘adopting’ friends.

I’ll talk about the family thing first.

In Korean culture, much like many others, you refer to your cousins (and often your close friends) as ‘big brother’ or ‘big sister’. Why this is, exactly, I couldn’t say. It just is. So at family gatherings, I have a lot of ‘hyungahs’ (big brothers) and ‘noonahs’ (big sisters) as well as younger siblings (who I just call by their name).

Thus, I have a fairly large group of ’siblings’ as is. (At current count, I have six cousins on my mother’s side of the family, and fourteen on my father’s side, not counting second cousins and the like)

As for ‘adopting’ friends, some people just click with me. Others have been friends for so long, it feels like we’re family. These are the people that I call ‘little sis’ or ‘bro’ or what have you. I don’t have nearly as many of these ’siblings’, but they’re out there, and they count as family to me.

Most of the time, I don’t even realize I’ve stopped calling a friend by their name and by a sibling term until they point it out.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll have a ‘family’ with more than one hundred people in it by the time I pass on.

One of the games I have always been fond of is pool/billards. I’m not very good at it, but I like it a lot. It’s a lot of fun, it’s something I can do with friends, and it involves both mental acuity and some physical skill.

When I was growing up, one of the few things I can remember doing with my father when he had time-off was to go to a local billiards hall and play pool. We’d spend three or four hours there, talking, playing pool, and eating instant ramen. He taught me the basics of pool, then proceeded to kick my butt at it. I did get better, thankfully. We did this for a while, until I hit college. Then I just didn’t have the time, so it kind of died off.

I’ll be hitting a local pool hall with some friends to celebrate my birthday, and hopefully my pool skills haven’t gone completely to crap. I did play a couple of games last October, but I spent most of the time knocking off the rust. I’m looking forward to it, though, because I’m looking forward to playing with my friends, and because pool always makes me feel good.

I need to play golf with my Dad some time soon. If I’m lucky, his skill will rub off on me - he’s REALLY good. We used to have tons of trophies that he won at amateur tournaments.

The problem is… I used to hate golf. But that’s a story for another time.

My father is one of my heroes.

He moved to the United States over thirty years ago, by himself, to start a new life. Not just for himself, but for his family back in South Korea, too.

He met my mother here in Maryland. That’s all I know. My father is a fairly private man. Thirty years, and I still don’t know much about him.

I know that he likes golf a lot. I know that he cares about his family more than anything else in the world, and that he would willingly destroy anything and everything that might threaten it. I know that he rather enjoys Korean television drama, and historical movies in general (like Tora Tora Tora).

I recently found out that he indeed was in the South Korean army. Up until last year, whenever I asked about it, he would deny it. It took one of my uncles mentioning that he was in the army for him to finally admit it.

Until a few years ago, my father really didn’t smile much. You can ask anyone who has known me for a while that has also met my father. He didn’t really start until I graduated college.

That day, he was smiling constantly. It was actually a little unnerving at first. Then my friend Jason took a picture of me, my mom, and my father together. For that one instant, he wasn’t smiling. We don’t know how he managed it. He just did.

My father has a quiet strength about him. He doesn’t brag, except in joking. He has a definite confidence to him that everyone who meets him can feel.

He is my hero, and I hope to be more like him some day.

–

As a humorous exercise, try replacing ‘Chuck Norris’ with ‘Richard’s dad’ and see how it sounds.

On New Year’s Day, my family gets together for a traditional Korean party. In my case, we do it twice - once for my mother’s side of the family, and once for my father’s side.

My mother’s side of the family is smaller than my father’s side, so the party tends to just be lunch, then ’seh beh’, which is where we wish our elders (and vice versa) a happy new year and such.

My father’s side of the family is quite a bit larger (20+ people on average each year), and unlike my mother’s side of the family, most of the older relatives on this side of the family are not fluent in English.

This causes a problem in that I am not fluent in Korean. I do speak Korean, just not well enough to hold a real conversation. I’ve tried to improve my Korean in the past, but it’s never gone well for whatever reason. (For the record, the biggest attempts were in the summer of 1988 and the summer of 1996)

This language barrier has created a kind of disconnect with my family during these gatherings. (We get together for Thanksgiving, too, so I go through this twice a year) Even though I’m among people that I know love and care for me, I still feel very alone. There are conversations going on, sometimes involving/about me, but I can’t really contribute beyond ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘I don’t know’, or nervous laughter.

This is not because of any malicious intent on my family’s part. They are used to speaking Korean. Even the family members who DO speak English well default to Korean when we’re all together. It’s a very normal thing. (In Japan, I would default to English when I was hanging out with non-Japanese people, because it’s what comes more naturally to me) I don’t hold it against them in the slightest.

The problem comes in that I just don’t know what to do, other than sit there, eat, and nod a lot. I could bring a book or my DS or something, but then there’s not a lot of meaning to trying to sit there and participate in the conversations.

I usually do try to participate, but most of the time, I’m lost. After a while, I have to get up and spend some time alone, to a) try to absorb what was said to me, and b) try to think of something, anything, to say beyond ‘hi, uncle/aunt’. Sometimes, though, it’s bad, and I end up spending a good chunk of time by myself. (Yeah, I know it seems emo, but it’s not ‘oh, no one cares’, it’s ‘I feel like a fifth wheel, so I’ll chill out and read by myself for a while’.)

Please note, I’m not bitching or anything - this is just an observation that I’ve made over the past ten years or so. And I know I’m not the only one. Other people who are of a similar background (family that speaks a language at home that is unfamiliar to that person) have told me of similar situations.

I’m also not looking for solutions. I know what I need to do - I need to keep at my Korean studies, which I intend to do. I love my family very much, and I do want to participate more. Besides, I like speaking Korean. It’s fun.