Lessons Learned

Breathe: A How To Guide For Pandemics

April 6, 2020 — 1 Comment

I remember thinking, “what’s the big deal?” it’s just another virus, much like H1N1 had been. I remember thinking that it would remain predominantly in China and East Asia, with a few cases scattered here and there. I remember feeling light, unburdened by the worries that now cling to my mind, that keep me tossing and turning at night wondering “what if?”

There are so many uncertainties.

And I’ll admit to being scared.

The world is becoming increasingly unrecognisable, consumed by news reports and morbid memes. There is no rock big enough to hide under. But as horrible as the reality of the situation may be, it is important to continuously look it in the eye, to remind yourself that this is happening. Because the virus isn’t the only threat to our society.

We are equally dangerous, if not more so.

Human stupidity, coupled with unapologetic ignorance, has led to the proliferation of the virus in the West, in spite of our ‘modernity.’ Over the last few days I have found myself continuously asking the question: “How did we get to this point?”

To put it in perspective: South Korea is approximately 1/10th the size of the province of Ontario, with 3.5 times the population and yet has managed to control the spread of the virus without impacting the economy or social infrastructure to the extent that Canada has. Most businesses, excluding museums, gyms, and schools, have remained opened. No one has attempted to hoard necessary supplies. People have continued to live, albeit more cautiously than before, but they have continued to live nonetheless.

Which is to say, that as bad as it all may seem there is still hope. Cling to that.

Remind yourself that this is temporary. Acknowledge the anxiety, the depressive thoughts you keep trying to push aside, allow yourself to feel because this is hard and it is okay to struggle, to find yourself slipping back into negative spaces.

Just don’t stay there.

I have been in pseudo-isolation for two months now, and have learned that there is nothing worse than staying inside, confined to the same four walls. It begins to feel like a prison. Go outside if you can, open up the windows if you can’t. Breathe in the air, feel the sunlight on your skin. Find one small thing that makes you smile, and do it.

In University I read a play called “Waiting For Godot,” which was about nothing, or to be specific, the importance of nothing. It was a play that forced the audience to simply sit still, to exist in a moment that had no purpose other than ‘to be.’ People left.

Because people are not good at being by themselves; it’s uncomfortable.

But there is value in learning how to be alone, in being okay with the silence. Our society has become obsessed with progress, with constantly needing to move forward to such an extent that this sudden stillness is debilitating. Take this isolation, this quarantine, as an opportunity to fall in love with yourself. Lie down for a moment and just breathe.

Just breathe.

 

All For One, And One For All: A Look Into Canada’s Fear Response

March 14, 2020 — 1 Comment

I cannot even begin to comprehend how rapidly the situation in Canada has deteriorated. Considering there has only been 197 reported cases, as opposed to the 7,979  in South Korea. It is startling to think how easily we have abandoned reason for the mass panic that is proving to be far more infectious a virus that Corona/COVID-19 could ever hope to become.

I’ll admit, it was entertaining at first. People made memes about the toilet paper shortage, joked about how it took Roll Up The Rim to make Canadian’s wash their hands. I even saw someone post about how at least Betty White was still alive; the millennials way of gauging the oncoming apocalypse.

But now, seemingly overnight, the country has erupted into what can only be described as madness. There is legitimate fear in people’s eyes, and while I do not wish to undermine the gravity of the situation, the reality is that everything will be okay.

How do I know this?

Because I am living in the country with the third highest number of COVID-19 cases, outside of China. Because I have ten rolls of toilet paper in my closet, and a grocery store around the corner that has remained fully stocked. Because even in the city that has been hit the hardest, large businesses have remained opened. People are worried, and paranoid, yes. But they have not reacted anywhere close to the way Canada has.

And a lot of it has to do with the fact that they aren’t thinking only of themselves.

Korea, like many asian countries, is a collectivist society, meaning that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. It has been ingrained into their culture to view others within their community as extended family members, which is reflected in their language as well. An elderly man is called ‘hɑɾɑbod͡ʒi’ meaning grandfather, while an elderly woman is called ‘hɑɭmoni’ meaning grandmother. Even a female server at a restaurant would be addressed as ‘imo’ meaning aunt, while an older male/female friend would be referred to as either ‘obʰa/hʲʌŋ’ or ‘ʌnni/nunɑ’ meaning older brother/sister, respectively.

There are no strangers, which makes it near impossible to act selfishly. No one here is going to buy twenty cans of tuna, if it means that the shelves are empty for the neighbour they’ve never spoken to. People here support each other, because they know that it is their responsibility to do so.

And it is our responsibility as well.

Uncommon Courtesy

August 26, 2019 — Leave a comment

So, a couple of months back I went out for ddalkgalbi with a Korean friend, and ddalkgalbi, for those of you who don’t know, is a grilled chicken dish often served stir-fry style with ddeok, vegetables, and soju.

Yep, that’s right: Soju.

Which, as you probably know, is typically drank as a shot.

But here’s the thing, in Korea a shot isn’t just a shot, especially not when drinking with someone older than yourself, because not only is Korea a patriarchal society it is also a hierarchal one. Meaning that ‘respect your elders’ is not just something parents say to their kids the same way that they would say to ‘remember your Ps and Qs.’

It is an integral part of their life, echoed in the language they speak, and the things they do. Which in the case of drinking amounts to a simple set of rules:

  1. The youngest is typically the one who pours, with no one pouring for themselves.
  2. When pouring to someone older, use two hands.
  3. During ‘cheers’ make sure to clink the lip of your glass beneath the lip of the person who is older.
  4. Turn away when drinking.

Now admittedly, most of these rules have been thrown to the wayside, except in situations involving someone far superior than yourself in terms of the hierarchal structure.

And that is where I made my mistake.

See, the friend I was drinking with was born is 1995, a year before myself. Which in my mind made him older and thereby deserving of some modicum of cultural respect. But he was a late 95, while I am a mid 96. So, technically we are ‘friends’ in the Korean sense of the word.

And part of me knew that, the smart part, the part that was suspiciously silent as I picked up the bottle with two hands and proceeded to pour, much to his amusement. God, was I so embarrassed in that moment. I mean, as a foreigner you are constantly aware of the differences in culture, and continuously trying to honour those differences whenever possible. So there I was, thinking that I was doing the correct thing, only to find out that I was horribly, mortifyingly wrong.

Still, it is better to be safe than sorry.

But at the same time, there is no need for an umbrella on a sunny day.