At the Crossroads of Connection

As a girl that had spent each year of her life in the state of Karnataka, India, until I was twenty, I was always under the impression that the norms followed in maintaining social relationships are globally one. My ignorance caught up to me as soon as I stepped into a new world of social constructs, South Korea. Oh boy was I caught in a lukewarm surprise. While there are dissimilarities between our cultures, somehow there are none. The cultural values that have been instilled in me and the ones that are held by Koreans are like the two ends of  a bridge, they meet and depart at the same time. 

I stayed in the city of Wonju and visited Seoul a couple of times during the one month that I stayed in Korea and it opened my eyes to a society that has their cultural values deeply woven into their language. I mostly realized this when I saw how “unsaid” all their cultural practices are and that is exactly what I shall be diving into in this blog. 

We were taught by a certain professor that addressing relationships in Korea is a huge deal. The Korean language has two tones of speaking, the Formal tone which is called “Jondaemal” (존댓말) and the Informal tone which is called “Banmal” (반말). At first when they meet someone for the first time, they must automatically use the formal tone of speaking. Later on, one’s age in relation to the person that one is speaking to, decides which tone of language one uses. In fact, to make things more convenient, the very first time that they meet someone new, the first demographic detail that is exchanged is the year in which they were born, after their names of course. Those older to one can use Banmal, but one must use Jondaemal to speak to them. This is because Korea has a very strict hierarchical structure which plays a role, not only in family relationships or work spaces but also in friendships. 

The word “friend” in Korean is 친구 (Chingu), but not all your “friends” are your Chingus. This is because a person can be your Chingu ONLY if they are born in the same year as you are. This automatically allows you to drop the formal tone of speaking and use the casual one instead. Similarly, if two people decide to become friends, but one is older than the other, they cannot call each other Chingu. One must refer to the other as “Chinhan Dongsaeng” (친한 동생), which translates to “a close younger sibling”. However if one is introducing a friend that is older than one, then there are more specifications. If one is a male, he must address another elder male friend as “Hyung” (형) and an elder female friend as “Noona” (누나). Now if one is a female, she must address another elder female friend as “Eonni” (언니) and an elder male friend as “Noona” (오빠). This gives us an insight into the significance of language in Korean culture and how it affects their relationships. This was an intriguing learning for me because in India, we do not have an equivalent of the idea of “chingu”, but however, in Kannada, one of the languages spoken in Karnataka, we also address those elder to us in a formal tone and those younger to us in an informal one. However, I have never had to use a formal tone of speech with any of my friends. 

In the workspaces of Korea, the idea of age deciding the hierarchy changes up completely. The tone of language used depends on the position of the person being spoken to. This is exactly the same in the space that I’m brought up in as well. Workplace respect is equally stressed upon in both cultures. However, what was different here as well were their way of addressing each other. In Karnataka or more widely in India if I may say, people usually tend to use tags such as “sir, ma’am, boss, etc” to refer to their higher ups and the ones at a higher position call their subordinates by their names. But Koreans have their own way of doing the same, i.e., everyone is addressed via the name of their position. For example, the Chairman of a company is addressed as Uijang-nim (의장님), which if I need to translate into Hindi would be “Chairman-ji”. They are all called by their respective titles assigned at the workplace. Each workplace relationship is predefined. 

Lastly, within a family. I found home in this aspect of Korean culture as it seemed exactly the same as it is back home. Each relationship has a unique title and is followed by each and every person that belongs to the culture and if we step aside from language being an integral part of their culture, the way that relationships are dealt with are also exactly the same. There is deep respect for elders that is instilled in both cultures. Of course we cannot say that there are no outliers who do not follow these norms, but the majority of them do so across the two cultures. 

Although the labeling of relationships in Korea might seem a little overwhelming, it is what adds to their cultural essence. It adds to their idea of a collectivist culture where each citizen cares about the other’s comfort. Is my home any different from this at the surface level? Absolutely not! We have also always considered another’s comfort, maybe not to the extent that we would keep absolute silence in a moving bus, but we definitely have our own way of doing so.