Korean Anthropology - The Korean Art of Flirting

Since I appointed myself an amateur anthropologist, I've been unremitting in my dedication to unbiased and scientific observation. Apart from all the times when I wasn't. 

And so I've been hesitating on how to write about flirting. Anthropologically speaking, how would it be possible to report on this without being somehow involved, i.e. the flirt-ee. In my experience, there are only two possible interpretations of a flirting phenomenon, that of the flirt-er and the other is the flirt-ee (1).  All third party observations of flirting are invariably invalid. 

As evidence, I recall an incident, a couple of years back, where I was at a formal dinner, some awards do for industry, where I was a guest and my then girlfriend at the time was, purely by coincidence, one of the organisers. The seating plan had me situated between, on one side, an octogenarian who had been an accountant for the firm that had recommended a new generation of high tech ball bearings for the conveyor used in the assembly of tractor gearboxes, and on the other side, a quite stunning young woman who was the CEO of a new internet startup in the music business. 

I swear I would have spoken more to the elder gent but he kept losing his train of thought every time he tried to explain why a double ledger system created something something, something which I can't remember now. And he kept putting his hand on my knee. That may have been for balance as he seemed to be swaying a lot. My attention slowly drifted over to the young businesswoman who, being at the end of the table, had no one else with whom to converse - yes!, I felt sorry for her and should be polite.  Entirely innocent, even though my dinner companion was wearing a very low cut evening dress, I am certain my eyes never once strayed from the horizontal - certain, because what she was saying about growing startups was so fascinating. 

At the time, I was unaware that telescopic CCTV cameras had been installed in the false eyeballs of several girlfriends of my girlfriend who were also attending this dinner and that my every move was being fastidiously observed from all angles. Unfortunately for me, when I engage in a conversation, would seem as though (I wasn't consciously mindful of this) I also smile occasionally, and my face and hands make 'engaging' gestures which, to a team of untrained gossiping zealots, might appear like flirting. The dinner was wonderful and the conversation scintillating. The after-dinner confrontation was not pleasant,  facing the pre-judged stare of my accuser girlfriend. I declared my innocence, which was true since as a point of principle, I knew the consequences of a single toe in the icy water of Lake Flirt. It didn't matter - words falling like snowflakes on a burning desert.

'It', of course, ended soon after.  Thankfully in retrospect.  The point being, third party observers at an alleged flirt session never really know what's going on. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Subjectivity is everything.

The other reason I've been putting off writing this, is how to assure the reader that I'm reporting anthropological fact and not just being vain. You'll see what I mean. 

Back to Korea...

The first incident happened not long after I arrived in Seoul. I had moved into my tiny flat but wasn't yet set up to cook. So I went out to search for my evening meal and ended up at some kind of chain / fast food pizza place near Ewha. Not really what I wanted but I was in a hurry.  Throughout the meal, service was excellent but so was my book. Pizza is a good choice of food if what you actually want to do is read a book - filling your stomach being incidental. After a while, I got the bill and wandered over to the cash station to pay.  To give you the full picture, being a chain / fast food place, most of the staff were teenagers, between 16 and 20.  As I started to pay, the Korean girl at the cash asked me how I liked my meal and the service, in perfect English with either a Texas or mid-west accent. A bit surprised, I gave some non-binding answers, and then mentioned how good her English was. There was a bit more to and fro around that topic, then she said, '... the reason why I wanted to talk to you was that my friend who was serving you, thinks you're really handsome but she can't speak English very well.'  Then she pointed over to her friend, who gave a big smile and a little wave with the sort of rabbit ear, V-sign fingers that teenage girls reserve for posed photo's. 

(Did I mention there is a age gap? Let's just say the last time I was interested in a 16 year old girl was when I was 17, but it didn't last as music, psychedelic drugs, Vietnam and Watergate was all that could fit into my non-multi-tasking head. )

I was cool, I tried to hide my surprise as the first thing that occurred was that it was some kind of hidden camera show.  So I waved back (without the rabbit ears) and mumbled that, well I thought she was very pretty, as I walked backwards to the door. Dignity preserved but very puzzled.

The second incident happened twice. Not with the same people of course (apart from me).  But nearly identical circumstances in different places. I had just finished some business meetings, in a city outside Seoul and had been dropped at the train station. It was a lovely, warm spring afternoon and I stood, sunglasses and suit, in the middle of the station plaza, gazing up at a schedule board trying to figure out where to go and how to get there. At that point, a gaggle of school girls (I knew this from the uniforms), started catcalling at me from across the sqaure. I nodded and waved and expected them to keep going. But they didn't, they came over. A group of about 5, they seemed to be about 17 or 18 years old. The best explanation I can offer is that they were trying to practise their English. And, of course, there is bravery in numbers, especially when out having a lark - I get that. Before I could leave, one of girls, the tall, pretty one naturally, stands directly in front of me, hands on hips, chin in the air, full eye contact and says, 'I like you, where are you from?' 

I think it's the suit.  Plus the Ray-Bans were hiding the scars from the time I went headfirst through the windscreen of a Fiat Panda. Very flattering though. (In case anyone is wondering, after a few incomprehensible attempts to be funny, of course I (embarrassingly) walked on. Despite the stereotype, actually most men aren't interested in teenage girls.)

The second incident was pretty much the same, the only difference standing out in my memory was that the girl doing the talking had poorer English but a shorter skirt.

So once these girls get out of school, then what happens?  I've mentioned in an earlier blog, the legions (literally) of young women in their twenties and thirties, who've foregone the benefits of a career in Korean engineering and science to have a go in retail.  (Turn off brain, get that plastic surgery done, bright smile, show a bit of leg ). This time, I'm off to buy some wine in one of the main department stores. It isn't possible in Seoul to wander around on your own, looking at the bins, trying to remember a label you've actually drank before. (And if you did remember the label, what did it taste like? Impossible and hopeless task buying wine - best to decide on whether the label has the right amount of and right type of decoration.)  I've now grown accustomed to the girls who immediately latch themselves onto you as soon as you enter the shop, their recommendations seem even more random than the neurones in my brain pretending to be my memory.

But there is one special girl. She is late twenties, so at least legal. On the first time, after following me around the store on my arm, with lots of coy giggles, hair flicks and arm touches, she introduced herself by handing me her business card. Which is fine and very nice. But then she took it back and wrote her personal mobile number on it. In case I needed a sudden wine consultation I guess.  Next, she asked me for my card, 'ah sorry, haven't got one with me. Saturday you see. Don't keep business cards in my jeans.'  And what exactly does it mean when a really attractive girl turns her head slightly to the side and looks at you from the corner of her eye with a smile?

'Yes, please - next time'.  Of course I thought she would forget.  Next time in the shop, even before I reach the first bin, she has jumped me. She bats the other trailing girls away with a backward swish of her hand, she thinks I don't notice but I've got decent peripheral vision. And she reminds me I haven't yet given her my card and telephone number. I start to ask her isn't it customary to at least find out if I have a wife or girlfriend or if I'm gay, or if I'm a serial killer? but I think that's got to be too difficult to get across in Kor-glish. Bound to be a few misunderstandings and google translate will just make a hash of it. So instead a big smile and hand over the card.  My reluctance isn't because of her pretty face or long legs, nor feeling threatened by a bit of Sadie Hawkins style forth-righteousness, nor because she seems a really nice person. The reason is that she is just bored out of her mind. She is going crazy from sheer, unrelenting, day after day, 7 days per week, 10 hours per day, retail boredom. I can't help her with that. And that's what would hurt her most later.  Plus she's a bit young, I didn't forget that.

That's of course assuming that she has been indeed flirting !  It is just possible that I've completely misread her, and all the other situations. Not flirting at all, just being friendly. Maybe?  I may never know.  Sometimes a woman has to resort to violent behaviour in order to get a man to notice what they thought were overt signs and signals. I might write about those some day... women can come up with amusing ways to hit a fella over the head.

(1)  Of course, during a non-anthropological flirt session, these two roles normally will flip back and forth between the two parties. However, in the interest of good scientific practise, during a flirt session involving an anthropologist, amateur or otherwise, the flirt-ee should try to avoid becoming the flirt-er.