JOURNAL: Korean Torture Device

"One of the nicer aspects of Koreans is that they are not raised to feel that displays of emotion are a weakness [. . .]they can be embarassingly earthy and blunt. If you have an ugly spot on your nose, the English and Japanese will politely pretend it's not there. The Korean will stick his finger in your face and inform you, 'Hey, you've got a spot.' As if he couldn't tell from the deep fingernail grooves around it that you already knew."
Michale Breen, British journalist in THE KOREANS: WHO THEY ARE, WHAT THEY WANT, WHERE THEIR FUTURE LIES (2004)


On Saturday, March 11, I will be turning the corner of "the age that dares not give its name." Yes, folks, I will be what is euphemistically called "still young" but not "young"; this strikes me as rather like receiving a consolation prize for coming in second, or even third place. I do not have much of a career to brag about, and I did not get married, so I guess I am not so much a success, superficially at least. In Korean (and some conservative American) terms, I will now be officially an "old maid." Like hell.

Although I certainly do not LOOK like my age (good anti-aging genes from my mother's side!), I have begun noticing some of the not-so-good parts of getting a little older- namely, gravity. Yes, things are beginning to sag ever so slightly, but enough to make me look in the mirror and go "Ugghhh, when did THAT happen? And when, pray tell, did I begin to get spots of cellulute?" Granted, I am a bit overweight, although I have lost quite a bit of it since moving to an Asian country. Still, there is much room for improvement. I began contemplating this miserable state of things a few weeks ago, and decided to do something about it with my "bonus" for teaching extra classes. I joined a Korean gym.

Before my knee-wrenching accident a few years ago, I worked out pretty regularly with a personal trainer. I "bulked out," but did not actually lose much body fat or weight, like a sumo-wrestler. Many doctor visits later, I found out my metabolism was sluggish but not slow enough for medication; furthermore, my Northern Eurpoean genes were predisposed to store fat (long, cold winters) rather than lose fat. It is a losing battle; the best I can hope for is stamina and strength. My accident prevented me from seriously working out, so I was pretty stuck.

Since moving to Korea, I have regained strength in my injured limb. I walk 40 minutes round trip to work and back everyday, and, except for occasional "Golden Arch" splurges, I eat a relatively Asian diet (except for the fish!). I have lost about 10 pounds and gone down one full size in clothes. Still it is not enough.

There is a gym about half a block from my apartment; my neighbor and co-worker works out there and took me to see it. It was very basic and small; just a smattering of machines and freeweights in the center of the room. Pounding pump-you-up music blared from the ceiling, and my coworker said the only annoying thing about this place was that they play the same CD over and over again. I was amused to note that old body building posters (circa 1980) were still plastered to the wall, and, more intriguingly, included several bulked-up Caucasian women. There were also some machines that I did not recognize, at least, not until I saw them in use. More on that later. The machines were in excellent working order, and the place was very clean. The on-duty manager spoke very limited English, but was reasonably polite, if a bit apathetic. I got the impression that he would have had a cigarette dangling from his lips had it been permitted (gyms are the only smoke-free zones in Korea, as far as I know). The lighting was a bit dim for my taste, but other than that, I liked the place. It had character. The price was very reasonable, and I indicated to the clerk on duty that I would consider it.

About halfway home from work (overlooking the McDonald's) is another gym, fairly new and modern. I am not really into fancy gyms, and had always assumed that this was one of the yuppie-expensive places. Even so, many of my coworkers go there and rave about it, so I made a visit there. I usually dread the fancier gyms because most people (coworkers included) don't NEED as much body work as I do. I learned that foreigners from our school get a good discount; for six months, we pay 300,000 Won ($295). I decided to make a visit.

Immediately upon entering, I was impressed. The girls at the desk spoke reasonable English, and were more than happy to help me. I removed my shoes (remember this is Asia) and was shown to a pair of slippers to wear while I made the tour. You can only wear gym shoes in the facility, and then only in certain areas. A young man named Shawn showed me around a bit; his English was also better than average. I noted that there were quite a variety of ages and body types in the room - fat ajumas and agashis (over 40 men and women), skinny teenagers, and young adults were all hard at work. There were quite a few Caucasian faces scattered among the clientele as well. I saw and greeted two of my coworkers, one of them with the perfect body type, the other more like me (also cursed with Northern European genes...but TALL!).

The gym was well-lit and relatively clutter-free. There were more choices of machines than at the first gym, some of which I had never seen before. I giggled as I saw a group of machines similar to the ones in the first gym. In the early 20th century, man invented a machine that more or less did excersise for the client. One put the fat-affected part in a loop of material, turned on a switch, and the belt vibrated hard and violently to shake the fat away. I had never seen one of these in person before. They were a popular item, and I immediately began to wonder about the integrity of the fitness instructors. Then, as I went closer, I observed, written in English, "body massager." Oh. Never people to waste an idea, the Koreans had simply adapted obsolete ideas to modern wholistic medicine.

An area had been set aside for floor work with a comfy but firm mat. I observed people doing stretches, yoga, pilates (they had the pilate ball available) and other types of strengthening excersises there. One of the more amusing "floor toys" in use was an oversized hula hoop. This is no ordinary hula hoop, oh no; this is a WEIGHTED hula hoop. I am guessing that the purpose of using this monster is to whittle away at one's sometimes well-buried waist, as I saw several plump matrons using it freely. ALthough I doubt it works for the intended purpose, it must strengthen SOME part of the body in that region. The old jump-rope standby was also a popular toy. A little bit later, they cleared the floor, and Shawn began a stretch class. In America, these sorts of classes are usually only attended by the older generations; here, all ages do these excersises.

Two days later I joined JNB Sports. The price was only $100 more than the first gym, and I figured I would have a better chance of staying motivated. One of the biggest selling points was that I would not have to do laundry (remember, I have no dryer). The gym provides a uniform for clients. Girls receive a grey and orange shirt with navy shorts; boys get turquiose blue and black shirts with black shorts. They are form-fitting but not skin-tight, and make everyone look good (except orange is not my color). They are laundered for you; you turn them into a clothes hamper after you work out. Towels, toiletries, and a footlocker are also provided.

On my first day, with some trepidation, I entered the locker room. About ten naked Korean women turned and glanced at me, then went back to their primping, much to my relief. Usually, when I walk into a room, everyone stares. One older woman did not stop staring however, so I gave her my most charming smile before proceeding to my locker. It amazed me how free and easy the women were about doing things in the nude. I saw women drying their hair, putting on makeup, or just sitting and talking, all without any sort of clothing. Now, I am used to working with theatre folks, so this is not too traumatic for me, but even theatre folk cover up to do their makeup! For myself, however, well, I am rather modest.

I chose a dark corner and began to undress. To my considerable annoyance, my bra strap got hung up somehow. I stepped into the central area where there was light and a mirror, and heroically fought with the hook. Suddenly, the hook gave way, but I was not touching it at the moment. The staring ajuma had come to my aid and unhooked me, then patted my on the shoulder. I was both startled and touched by her gesture. Her action was not unnnoticed, however, and the staring began. The staring was more out of curiosity than animosity, but I was feeling a bit unstrung. "Yes, I have BOOBS!" I wanted to shout, but refrained from doing so. Instead, I stared back.

All of those men who have Asian body-type fantasies out there, forget it! You are delusional. Just like Westerners, there are skinny women, plump women, mosquito bites and modestly proportioned saggy-udders. Korean women do not have curvy or defined hips either, but strangely enough, Korean men do. They women also do not have strongly-defined muscles. My curves are what attracted attention, rather than my weight, I discovered. Blue eyes and blonde hair didn't hurt either. The one common thing that all the women had was....CELLULITE! Lots and lots of cellulite, even on the skinny ones. I suspect this has to do with a high carb (noodles, rice, etc.)/ low protein diet. It also explains the "body massager" phenomenon!

I noted that there was a communal shower where you could use the conventional wall mounted unit, or you could choose to powerwash your neighbor with a green rubber hose. Women also will soap and scrub each other down. I have yet to use the shower there, as I know my, er, other parts, will be stared at freely and openly. I am not ready for that yet.

The uniform fit me nicely, and I emerged from the locker room. I went upstairs to the trainer's office, and was met by a tall, rather dark (Koreans are usually light-skinned) and handsome man. He opened his mouth, and I received a bit of a surprise. Now, some of my students have lived in America, New Zealand, the U.K., or Australia, so I am used to hearing different accents coming out of Korean schoolchildren's mouths. When a new student "How are y'all today"s, it is cute and funny. When a grown Korean man speaks to you in strongly accented Australian English, it is damn sexy! Alas, he is too young, and occupied territory (though not sold!). We hit it off immediately, and I decided I was going to like him.

"John" spoke excellent English, and took me right into the office. He put me on a machine to take my weight, height, body fat (sigh), and various other blah blah blah. After a few moments, it spit out a lengthy report, wherupon John began to explain the medically-termed data (it was in English, but a little dense). I have lost some weight, but am still dangerously close to being termed "obese," (38 BFI)although I do not look like it. I DO have the same bone structure and height as a Korean woman (I had noticed this before). My upper body is still well-toned and strong; my lower body is shot to perdition however. No surprises there. My body fat, he bluntly told me, was mainly belly fat and lower; this is a dangerous type of fat. I also have some swelling and I am retaining some water (I did not mention that I was on my period at the time; perhaps I should have said something). I also knew this, but again, it was not obvious externally, it was more a feeling.

As of now, I am on a strict regime of 70 minute of cardio each day for about two months. I hate it with a passion (hampster on a wheel) but I need to drop some body fat (roughly about 6 pounds) before I can begin weight traning again. I will "bulk up" and look worse if I start too soon. I also take a stretch class every night for 40 minutes. I like that part, even though it is conducted in Korean. The trainers are very "hands on." If they don't think you are working hard enough, they will physically correct you.

Last week, I got a little lazy on the bike. John came by to check on me. He began questioning me a bit and chit-chatting. I was very polite and slowed down a bit to answer him (as I was breathing hard). After a few minutes of this, he quietly informed me that if I was really working hard, I wouldn't be able to carry on much of a conversation. My fury and my embarassment fueled me pretty quickly through THAT workout, but I knew I deserved it.

The stretch class is not for wimps either. I struggled at first because I couldn't understand the instructions. I know my numbers, but that is about it. I watched people carefully, but sometimes missed the "in between" instructions. The trainers walk around on the mat, and physically correct those who are doing it wrong; I seemed to be a good target for the first few days. If my knee popped up during a stretch, for example, someone would come by and gently but firmly press it into place...and hold it there. When stretching forward, Shawn grabbed my hands, pulled me like taffy, and told me to breathe into it. To my surprise, I went further than I thought I could without too much discomfort. It is very odd to be touched by a stranger, but I like this approach to fitness. I can FEEL the difference between the wrong and the right way now. I am getting the hang of things, though my balance is still horrible. You are not allowed to NOT do an excersise; you have to do them all. Now, when we get to that part of the routine, one of the trainers automatically extends his arm for me to grab onto. It is humiliating, but I am trying my best. I hope it gets better.

John is turning out to be a decent human being. He is definately Australian in his outlook, which is a refreshing change. I do not have to censor what I say too much; he is used to Aussie women! He is intelligent and is still in university (I think); in other words, not a dumb jock. I can't stand jock attitudes! The other clientele are polite, though they do still stare sometimes. The "regulars" do not stare anymore, which helps.