Do Koreans Eat Poo?

Logging into Facebook, I read a message on my wall all the way from New Zealand.  A small picture showing a blonde guy wearing a soccer uniform is asking me if I still “eat poo.” I laugh, and reply that indeed I do, and I still love it. This is an inside joke if there ever was one, and I hope our emoticons make that obvious. As silly as it sounds, this inside joke taught me a lot not so many years ago.

 

It was at age 11 when I left Korea all by myself, heading to Christchurch, New Zealand. It was the first time in my life to stay alone so far away from my parents. I was excited, and everything started wonderfully. The beautiful house I stayed in had a blue roof and walls made of red bricks. There was green grass next to a large garden full of flowers. More importantly, my homestay family was welcoming and extremely kind.  Everything was so wonderful…. until I went to school.

 

 On the first day, I realized that nobody wanted to play with a little Asian girl who hadn’t yet mastered English. During “tea time,” I accidentally ate my lunch, thinking it was lunch time. No one told me that I was mistaken. In P.E. class, no one told me where the tee ball field was. I was the last to arrive, and I had to use a left-handed glove that was left last.  Last, just like me. I had no clue. The first weeks were the most sorrowful days in my 11 years of life, and I felt like a fish out of water.

 
      But time passed, and I was finally getting used to things. I didn’t have “friends,” but some of the girls in my class started playing with me. More importantly, the mean boys   became bored of exploiting my lack of English. But at the same time, I was missing the familiarity of Korea and “home sweet home.” I told my homestay mother, who was Korean, that I was sick of eating sandwiches every day. I wanted to eat Korean food for lunch. She happily made Jajang-bab, a traditional dish made of rice and black bean sauce. When I opened my lunch box the next day, my heart throbbed with delight.
 
     “EWWW. DO KOREANS EAT POO?”

     Instant horror. The mean boys had just found a new joke. The blonde guy who liked pulling my hair was insane with laughter. His gang circled around me and started to snicker at my delicious food. I tried to ignore them and started eating. But I couldn’t help bursting into tears when I heard the following: “Ewwwwwwww!!! She’s eating poo!” I had to stop eating and run to the bathroom.

 
     That day, I told the teacher that I felt sick and skipped P.E. class. In the empty classroom, I ate my lunch alone secretly, still crying. As I swallowed the last of my Jajang-bab, I decided I’d have to strategize and adjust, but never back down. I went home, thanked my homestay mom, and requested the same lunch for the rest of the week. I made a firm decision that no matter what, I would eat my lunch with the happiest face I could make, as if I was eating the most delicious food in the world. And I was.
 
             After a few days of gritting my teeth, trying to believe the advice that “boys were just boys” and maybe not so mean, the boys seemed to lose some enjoyment making fun of the “poo eating” as before. It was then that I dared that blonde boy to try some “poo.” I needed to screw up all of my courage to ask him so, and fortunately he accepted the challenge. “This poo is delicious!” he’d announced. More laughs, and the joke was no longer on me. It became our joke. For me, that was an apology.

             Often, it is better to laugh instead of cry, even if boys could be really stupid sometimes. I’m glad that blonde boy learned something that day. We both did, and we both still remember Jajang-bab fondly. I click the “Like” button, knowing I’ll have to remember that lesson again as life goes on.