The Third Sex & Other Roles
Part of Deoksugung Palace in the middle of the city.
It seems that Korean society is one where everything has its place and certain situations require certain procedures. When people die, for example, the funeral proceedings take around 3 days to complete. People come by to pay their respects and the immediate family needs to be there when they do. Understandably, people become all cried out, yet they have to turn on the water works when the next guest arrives. Everyone knows that at some point the crying becomes fake. Still, it’s all part of the ritual. There is, however, an option: you can hire professional criers, who can produce the required lamentation as another guest arrives, ensuring the appropriate volume of tears are shed.
It is very much a society made up of people playing roles according to some kind of tradition. And one class of people that perhaps aren’t found anywhere else in the world are the “adjuma.” These are known as the third sex in Korea. This expression “adjuma” can apply to any married woman, but it has certain negative connotations and so is advisably not used in most situations.
However, some woman are most clearly of the adjuma class. Generally around the 50 +, they are tough as nails and take no prisoners; have a stocky build; short, permed hair; and have wrinkled, flat-faced features. They will elbow their way through anything, be it the subway, on a bus, or to cut in on you in a line. People conjecture that it’s because of the rise in male hormone’s after menopause.
These women probably hold up the economy, filling many of those thankless jobs few are willing to do, and which many can not live without. Adjuma are the butt of many jokes yet Korean society would collapse without them.
Another significant social class are the students. They probably study harder and for longer than any in the world. They also go through exam hell just like students do in Japan. I don’t refer to normal school exams but to the big one at the end of it all. It happens on one day of the year, when all main subjects are tested for a chance to get a place in the best universities (the ultimate being Seoul National University).
On this day, employees across Seoul are not obliged to get to work on time and can come an hour late. This is so that the transportation system is freed up so students get to their exams on time. It’s like the whole city is behind the students, giving them all the support they need. Domestic flights are even delayed during listening parts of the exam.
As the day progresses, many people have an unspoken anticipation of hearing news of the first suicide. This year, there was only one: a girl left the exams, wrote a note to her parents, and threw herself off an apartment building. Presumably she wasn’t delighted with her progress. But she could have done what an increasing number of students are doing, and that is study for another year to do it all over again for a better score. There is no stigma attached to this strategy anymore.
The last social class that has caught my attention is the beggars. And they are also well rehearsed in their roles. I’ve noted 3 distinct groups of them, all with clearly displayed credentials. One is the downright poor and old: except for the fact that they hold a bowl for money, there is no distinguishing them from the homeless I’ve seen sound asleep in lighted, noisy or public places (perhaps to avoid assault, I don’t know).
Another is the blind: they shuffle the length of subway trains with stick in hand, a bowl in the other, and a cassette player slung over their shoulders playing a sorrowful tune. I saw one get on a carriage once; she found the centre of the walkway, adjusted her equipment, braced for the train’s acceleration, then pressed the cassette’s play and started shuffling. What a professional!
Once I was in a carriage with a beggar like this, then I transferred to another train, and found upon entering its carriage yet another blind beggar. Both these beggars had exactly the same equipment as described, only their sorrowful tunes differed.
On another occasion there was a blind guy and, behind him, holding his shirt, a blind women. At last, I rejoiced—the genuine article, I’m actually witnessing the blind leading the blind!
The last of the beggar group are the prostrate. Presumably unable to walk, these guys lie stomach down on a little trolley. Before them is another little trolley they push in front; it holds their money, food, and assorted items, such as a car battery for power, and of course the obligatory cassette player playing a lament. They inhabit busy corners for a few weeks then, I guess, disappear to work another part of town. I think their credibility is suspect unless a limb is quite obviously missing. But I still give the fake ones some credit, since stooping so utterly low in public must take strength of character.
