Free Spirit (?)

There are a lot of labels that are given to white people in Asia... ;

..."drug courier"
 

..."military punk"
 

..."pedophile"
 

..."Russian hooker"
 

..."Wapanese"

 

(...white person who pretends they are Japanese...)

 

...none of these labels really irritate me so much anymore...

 

...because I just got used to these general images of white people in East/South-East Asia...

 

...however...

 

 

...there is one name for white people in Asia that really seriously irks me...

 

...and it is...

 

 

..."Free Spirit"...

 

 

....blah...

 

...it is some lousy Eat, Pray, Love related stereotype...

 

... that all white women that move to Asia are somehow "free spirited" and are going through some kind of tragic divorce...

 

 

...I don't want to be grouped in with those white women...

 

 

...I'm not doing some kind of extended spiritual retreat in Bali...dammit...

 

 

...so when I am introduced by someone as a "free spirit living in Asia"...

 

...I am highly offended...

 

 

...mostly because the image that the reference produces is that of a middle-aged white woman on the verge of desperation...

 

 

...trying to corner tanned Balinese boys in a dive bar...

 

...and then crying into her beer while she wears her old sari and decorative earrings...

 

 

 ...which in turn leads to her strumming a guitar on a littered beach at 4am...

 

...and then writing down her "metaphysical new year's resolutions for 2014..."

 

 

...I don't want the term "Free Spirited" to ever be associated with my lifestyle in Asia...

 

...nor do I like the partner description of "Free Spirited"...

 

...which would be "bohemian"...

 

 

 

...ewe...

 

...gross...

 

...nasty...

 

 

There is nothing "bohemian" or "organic" or "free spirited" or "alternative" about living in South Korea...

 

 

...but the typical comments I receive at a conference when I mention I am flying from Seoul are...;

 

"Wow...White Woman in Asia, so .... Free Spirited..."

 

 

><; 대박...

 

 

...do I have to admit that I came to live in Korea for tax purposes... (?)

 

...because Australian taxes are too high for what I am doing at the moment...

 

...this is not about a yoga retreat, meeting gurus, or getting over my (suspected) ugly divorce...

 

 

...I think I have to write some travel literature about white women in Asia that is not centered around saris, messy divorces, balinese gurus or decorative earrings...

 

....sigh...

Hong Kong Massage.

I was in Hong Kong over the weekend for shopping and carrying props around for Samantha (ok, perhaps not this time...)...

 

 

...as usual, I was irked by the unyielding humidity...

 

...and while I wanted to spend time outside chasing Chinese boys and taking photos of things (mainly cantonese calligraphy...because I cannot read it and it looks more decorative than Korean...)...

 

 

...it was far far too hot to step outside...

 

...so I spent most of the weekend malling...

 

...which led to me accidentally buying things that could not fit into my suitcase...

 

 

...so overall I didn't really expend myself too much in Hong Kong...

 

...but by the time Sunday night came around...

 

 

...I was in actual physical pain from all the malling... 

 

(...can I use 'malling' as a verb here? My English is suffering as I have lived with Koreans for four years and I don't get to have an idiom-based-english-conversation unless I fly to Hong Kong...and hence I fly to HK quite regularly...to make bad jokes in English...)

 

 

...so I asked Samantha late on Sunday night if I could get a massage somewhere in Hong Kong...

 

...because obviously I am now a delicate Korean princess who cannot go shopping without a Korean man holding my bags for me and patting my head...

 

 

...so Samantha was on a mission to seek out a "non-sexy" massage establishment which seemed clean and wouldn't lead to either of us being raped by a large Chinese woman...

 

 

...the task was actually far more difficult than we expected...

 

...and as Sam googled massage establishments situated around the Kowloon/Jordan area...

 

 

...most of the search results were along the lines of...;

 

"Traditional HK Happy Ending"

 

"Hong Kong Tantric Massage"

 

"Man Happy Massage"

 

...

 

...unfortunately for me...

 

...I am not a man...

 

 

...and if you are not a man, and you live in East/South-East Asia...

 

...finding a suitable place to get a massage is always a struggle...

 

 

...and Samantha and I were turned away from numerous massage establishments as we were both female...

 

 

...sometimes I feel like being a woman in East Asia is not as cool as everyone says it is...

 

 

...because there are so many bars/clubs/massage shops that refuse women...

 

...and it leads to a lot of confusion (at least for me...as I don't understand why my male friends get to enjoy "fun stuff", while security usher me outside...)

 

 

...if I were a man in East Asia...

 

...I would be running this place...

 

 

...so finally at 11.30pm...

 

...after being booted from a number of Hong Kong massage shops...

 

 

...we actually found a place that allowed us inside...

 

...and we waited in a dark room until we were told that our private room had been "cleaned" and two mainland Chinese women were upstairs getting ready to massage us...

 

 

...at this point I was getting very nervous...

 

...as my colorful imagination started to picture what had happened in the private massage room prior to our appointment...

 

 

...why had it taken 30 whole minutes  to "clean" (sanitize...? sterilize...? ...removal of dead bodies...?) the massage room?

 

 

...was somebody murdered?...

 

 

...or have I been watching too many horror movies about tourists who get assaulted in dark, salty-smelling Kowloon massage shops...

 

(?)

 

 

Perhaps the things that occur in my head never actually manifest in real time and in real life...

 

 

...and maybe my malling-provoked-back-pain was going up through my spine and to my brain...

 

 

...so Samantha and I disrobed and it looked like we were getting something like a couple's massage...

 

...ha...

 

 

...as I told Sam I would pay for both of us to get a massage as I do not speak Cantonese and I needed a translator for when the Chinese masseuse inevitably started elbowing me in the neck...

 

 

...interestingly...

 

...the two masseuses decided to gossip loudly with each other throughout the entire duration of the massage...

 

... and they didn't seem to think this would irritate Sam and I...

 

 

(...I don't speak Cantonese...so I couldn't get an idea of what they were talking about...but Sam later informed me that they were discussing our bodies and their opinions on our bodies...which did sound a little creepy...)

 

 

...and Samantha's masseuse also kept talking on the phone during the massage...

 

 

...and I was face-down at the time...

 

...so I couldn't quite figure out how this talented woman was holding a phone and massaging someone's lower back at the same time...

 

 

...after the massage I felt great and I did indeed fall asleep at some point...

 

... despite the phone ringing constantly and the noisy chatty of the two mainland Chinese women...

 

...Samantha walked out with a limp...

 

...and I sleep-walked and she dragged her broken legs back to her apartment to watch Benedict Cumberbatch clips on Youtube...

 

(Sam's idea...not mine...obviously...)

Girls Lined Up.

My Korean-American friends wanted to go to a room salon in Busan on Thursday night...

 

 

...so a car was sent over to the resort and we were picked up and driven a few blocks to the back streets of Haeundae to a standard Busan room salon...

 

The mama-san was standing at the front of the entrance...

 

...and as we got out of the car she bowed to us and led us inside...

 

 

...and we were taken in an elevator to the basement, and then some men in black waistcoats with walkie-talkies ushered us into a large room with rather ugly orange and brown sofas...

 

...an orange chandelier hung from the ceiling and the room was huge...

 

 

...various people in suits and black waistcoats came into the room to deliver a suspicious bottle of whisky, a fruit platter, and various other beverages for mixing...

 

...and then the mama-san sat with us to ask us what kind of girls we would like to sit with us...

 

"어떤 스타일 좋아하시나요? 섹시한 스타일? 애교스타일?"

 

 

A room salon in Korea is often compared by foreigners to the hostess bars of Tokyo...

 

...however, there are a few differences... (...as far as I can see...)

 

 

...A Tokyo hostess bar may or may not offer non-Japanese girls as well as native girls...

 

...but Korean room salons generally offer only Korean girls...

 

 

So a line of six Korean girls were marched into the room in front of us...

 

...and each was introduced as "Girl 1, Girl 2, Girl 3..." etc...

 

 

...and my friends and I had to hold back our laughter...

 

...because the girls did look very very different to what you normally see in a typical Gangnam room salon...

 

 

...firstly...

 

...the age range in the line-up was interesting... 

 

..."Girl number 1" looked 21 years old, while "Girl number 4" looked about 45 years old...

 

 

...of course...we didn't really feel like any of the girls were a great match...

 

...so the mama-san came back in and told us that she didn't recommend any of those girls, except for "Girl number 1"...

 

...so we agreed...

 

...and "Girl number 1" was trotted back in, and seated next to me...

 

 

...and everything seemed quite normal when "Girl number 1: Yunhee" came into the room...

 

...she seemed remarkably calm, so I thought that the mama-san may have prepped her before she came into the room...

 

...as I doubted that she would have ever met an Australian female and some Korean Americans in this kind of scenario before...

 

 

...and Yunhee was quite the talker...

 

...she started stuffing fruit in my mouth, while talking about how she was allegedly "half-Japanese"... (not really sure about that...)...

 

...and used her free hand to mix our drinks and pat my hair while more girls were marched in for inspection...and then marched out again...

 

 

...and for a time...

 

...everything was calm...

 

...and I was seemingly the most comfortable Korean speaker in the group of guys (kyopo) so I was put in the position where I had to coordinate the conversation topics and translate expressions so that everyone could understand each other more easily...

 

 

...and for every two glasses of whisky I drank...

 

...Yunhee would drink one...

 

...and it was apparent that she was getting increasingly more frisky...

 

...even with seemingly little alcohol consumption...

 

 

...when she had first sat down next to me she had taken my hand and had started patting my forearm and the curve of my elbow...

 

...which is what all Korean girls do when they meet me... because in Korea girls hold hands all the time and nobody thinks anything of it...

 

 

...but after one or two glasses, she started to slide her hands down my legs, which certainly took me by surprise...

 

... because I imagined that girls working in room salons would be able to hold their liquor pretty well...

 

...but this girl was clearly the exception...

 

 

...and her hands started going all over the place...like a crazed octopus...

 

...and as she tried to edge her hands around my waist, she fell forwards and spilt her whisky down my dress...

 

 

...the mama-san came in and told Yunhee off for drinking too much, and more girls were marched in...

 

...and a second girl was chosen, "Yuri", and she sat down next to one of the other Korean Americans...

 

 

...by this time, Yunhee had followed me to the bathroom, and was waiting for me outside like a snake waiting for the mouse...

 

...when I came out of the bathroom she gave me a look that made me feel like she was going to try and assault me with her octopus hands again...

 

 

Luckily...

 

...I was able to lead her back into the room without her tearing at my dress...

 

...and suddenly she was asleep on the sofa...

 

 

...one of the Korean Americans left the room to tell the mama-san that Yunhee had gotten a little bit rabid and had not stopped drinking after her warning...

 

...and then Yunhee was immediately collected and escorted out of the room...

 

...it was probably the weirdest hostess experience I have ever ever had...