(Second of 3 Parts)

My initial searches ended in disappointment. All the available positions I saw were open only to citizens of native English-speaking countries. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that such a policy exists. I never thought that “native-speakerism” was real. Why, in a world where only native English speakers would be allowed to teach the English language? I consider that policy illogical and downright discriminatory. If they imposed that policy because of accent, those who created and enforced it have seemingly forgotten that speaking is only one of the four language macro skills. The other three are reading, writing, and listening. An accent is not the be-all and end-all of English language education. Accent itself is only one of the many components of speaking. 

Why most Asian universities hire native English speakers only to teach English is beyond my comprehension. But I did not lose hope. I kept the faith and clung to the belief that some universities in South Korea think Filipinos like me and other nationalities could teach English with the necessary qualifications and training. These universities understand that accent should not be the sole basis for hiring ESL teachers but should be language knowledge and pedagogical skills. It is also impossible that no university in South Korea knows that many South Koreans are studying (or have studied) English in my country. So, I kept searching for openings for ESL teachers.

It turned out that I was right. Some tertiary institutions in South Korea hire qualified ESL teachers from any country, particularly from the Philippines. My persistence eventually paid off. My wish was granted, and I was allowed to live my  K-dream when a university hired me as a teacher.

So, off to South Korea, I flew in 2013.

As soon as I exited Gimhae Airport, I started having that authentic Korean experience that I dreamt of going through. The early spring weather giving me an icy cold welcome got it going. In a few minutes, while walking toward the bus that would bring us to Gyeongju city, I realized how insufficient my clothes were against the cold. That moment I fully understood the meaning of the phrasal verb bundle up. But the chilly breeze could not dislodge my excitement at the thought that my dream was coming to fruition. Even when homesickness started to creep in, I would remind myself that I came to South Korea to pursue my  K-dream, a dream that was slowly becoming a reality.

As days and weeks passed, I gradually immersed myself in the country’s culture. I was no longer just watching the people of my host country on the TV, the silver screen, and the Internet. It’s no longer a Korean drama I was watching, but it’s real Korean life I was witnessing and actually experiencing… from reel to real. I got what I wanted.

I started mingling with real Korean people – men and women in flesh and blood, not fictional characters. I saw that, indeed, their skin is silky white, and they are taller, on average, than Filipinos. I became a friend to many of them. I talked and laughed with them. I dined with them, drank their wine and beer, ate their kimchi and delicious dishes, and started speaking (a little) of their language.

I witnessed their way of life and even adopted some parts of it. I saw what was inside their houses, churches, other religious temples, theatres, bars, restaurants, and coffee shops. I have entered their museums, watched cultural shows in their theatres, watched movies in their cinemas, strolled in their parks, worked out in their gyms, and hiked in their mountains. 

I could also probe their character through daily encounters with my Korean students, colleagues, and friends. I confirmed that just like what I saw in their dramas, South Koreans fall in love, get angry, feel sad and happy, and suffer from anxiety and stress. In short, just like me or any average human being from any part of the world, they also ride the roller coaster of emotions.

They have strengths and weaknesses too, and they are not faultless… like me. Anyway, nobody is.

Like me and my fellow Filipinos, they get mad at corrupt politicians. Like us, they march to the streets and let their government, and sometimes their employers, hear their dissatisfaction and grievances. I noticed that the South Koreans, compared to Filipinos, protest more orderly and civilly.

Yes, they also have fears and uncertainties. Additionally, just like me and anyone else, they have dreams and ambitions too. They have plans and a vision of a good life in the future for themselves and their families. Just like normal humans, they fear death, sickness, and failure. Those who embrace religion among them pray and seek God’s love, grace, and mercy.

I thought my K-dream was already complete with all those experiences and discoveries. I was wrong.

As I lived and worked in South Korea longer, I discovered that their prosperity is not a myth. Those things I saw in Korean dramas and movies that indicate that their country is progressive and modernized are not figments of the imagination, and they are not just props in their films. Their provinces, cities, and towns are effectively interconnected by impressive highway systems that I wish we could also have in my country of origin. More and more items get included in my “wish list.”  I want our telecom companies to provide Internet connectivity as fast as South Korea’s. We should be able also to download a movie in less than a minute or a little more.

With all these additional discoveries, I could not help but compare this country to mine. I could not help but envy the South Koreans for what they have accomplished as a nation. As I stayed here longer, my wish list grew longer. How I wish that in my country, packages could be left in front of our doors, even for days, not fearing that somebody would steal them. How I wish that we could also call the police to stop noisy neighbors who, even when it’s midnight already, would still sing their lungs out with the volume of their karaoke maxed. How I wish that politicians found by the law guilty of wrongdoings, particularly corruption and malversation of public funds, would no longer have the gall to run for reelection.

I realized that my K-dream still needed to be completed. It actually expanded. I dream that Filipinos will take research as seriously and meticulously as Koreans do one day. To them, research is a huge deal. Whatever advances in the different fields of science and technology they have achieved could be attributed to their obsession with research. Consequently, their electrical and electronic products, heavy equipment and machinery, passengers and cargo ships, and cars are sought after in the world market. The list of world-class products that they export is long. The reason for this is that they prioritize research. What about us in the Philippines? Where do we put research in the list of our priorities? Unfortunately, we don’t consider research as seriously as the South Koreans do. That’s the sad reality. I even remember one senator giving one particular department in our executive branch of the government a tongue-lashing during a senate hearing because that department allotted a lot of its budget for research purposes.

Whatever metrics I used for the comparison, it was a mismatch with South Korea always ending up on top after all the comparative analyses I performed except for this – my country has a younger population where the median age is less than 26 years, and for this country, it’s been more than 40 years. But overall,  South Korea is much ahead of my native land. The superiority of this country will become more glaring should I cite other categories like life expectancy, GDP, and international ranking of universities.

As an academician, I turn green-eyed, seeing South Korea has at least five universities constantly landing among the top 100 in the world annually. Why can’t the universities in my country break into even just the top 400? I know the answer – research. One of the criteria used in determining the annual ranking of world universities is how often their faculty members publish in indexed journals. The lower the rank of a university, the lesser it prioritizes research. In addition, South Korean students perform better in Math and Science than my country’s youth.

If there is any consolation, Filipinos are more proficient in English than South Koreans. But does it matter if we are better at English?  Does it make my country more prosperous? The answer is obvious – NO. No direct correlation exists between a country’s English proficiency and economic performance.

My country also has a lower suicide rate. But is that something that we Filipinos could crow about? We say that rarely do Filipinos commit suicide. But we do something worse than taking our own lives, and that is selling our votes during elections. By doing so, we don’t harm our bodies but our dreams and future as a nation. We put the destiny of our children and our country in the hands of wolves in sheep’s clothing or alligators wearing tuxedos. We unwittingly put the reins of our government in the hands of corrupt politicians, thereby killing, again, not ourselves but the possibility of having competent leaders who could lead our country to prosperity and greatness.

There were politicians in South Korea who, after being accused of engaging in corruption or any wrongdoing, committed suicide. Shame and disgrace were too much for them to bear, and this is never heard of in the Philippines. Instead of taking their own lives (or at least retiring from politics), you will find politicians accused (and found guilty) of stealing from the national coffers while running for reelection. And the wonder of wonders –  they still win.

PART THREE