|  My latest 
                          novel, Angry Young Spaceman, is about a guy who goes 
                          to another planet to teach English. It's a pretty obvious 
                          to anyone who knows I taught overseas that the dreamy 
                          underwater planet Octavia is a duckblind for Korea. 
                          I set it on another planet for two reasons -- one, it 
                          was more fun that way; two, depicting Korea, when I 
                          had been there a scant seven months, was not something 
                          I felt comfortable doing. I wanted to concentrate on 
                          the protagonist's struggle and fascination with immersion 
                          in an alien environment. 
                         Despite this, 
                          I did expect someone to catch me out on the fact that 
                          a lot of the appeal of the book is derived from a (albeit 
                          once removed) characterization of Asia that is pretty 
                          problematic: mysterious, headed heedlessly towards westernization, 
                          and filled with amusing broken English. And while writing 
                          a scathing critique entitled "Suburban Houses With Radical 
                          Paintjobs: The Works of Jim Munroe" has a kind of Eggersian 
                          appeal, I think I'll just look around my room and analyze 
                          the... 
                          Objects 
                          of My Asian Affectation 
                          Notes: 
                          These are the Asian objects that I can see from my desk, 
                          and are no way an inventory of all of such items I own. 
                          I am careful to avoid having (what I consider) an embarrassing 
                          excess of them -- small are the steps between valid 
                          appreciation, geeky fannishness, and creepy fetishization. 
                          (Although -- and this doesn't make sense, but I feel 
                          entitled to have more Asiana since I've lived there.) 
                          Also, I'm aware that limiting it to objects is in itself 
                          revealing of a kind of consumer mentality, but it helped 
                          to having parameters of this analysis so as to avoid 
                          having to list everything beginning at my crush on a 
                          Filipino girl in grade six. (Whoops.) I stopped this 
                          list at eight (for luck) although the following objects 
                          are also within sight: -a tiny catalogue of Japanese dolls and toys
 -coffee gum
 -Morning Glory hardcover writing book
 -H.O.T. (Highfive Of Teenager) bootleg cassette
 Omar Sharif 
                          Lights cigarette package (empty): The Korean government, 
                          having nationalized cigarette production, has a few 
                          brands with English names. My co-teacher started smoking 
                          them in his army days, and had no idea who Omar Sharif 
                          was -- I suppose they started making them when he was 
                          hot, and saw no reason to update it with the new western 
                          star. The licensing must have cost something, because 
                          the side of the package has Sharif's name along with 
                          the quote "The taste of my cigarettes is smooth, soft 
                          & sensual, just like my romantic life." Analysis: 
                          While a lot of the appeal of this comes from how cheesy 
                          the quote is (and by extension, how cheesy the French 
                          are), I also like how a governmental initiative to -- 
                          what? Make their citizens more cosmopolitan? -- has 
                          only succeeded at turning a moviestar into a meaningless 
                          glyph. 
                         Coconut 
                          Jelly jar (8 single servings remaining): Each tiny 
                          rounded cup has a tasty coconut jelly serving with a 
                          piece of lychee suspended inside. What I most enjoy 
                          is offering them to guests who have never had them. 
                          They pull back the little cover and spill some of the 
                          juice on their hands, and then try to slurp it out. 
                          Then, they say "It's good!" in a kind of surprised voice, 
                          as if they expected something not-so-good. Analysis: 
                          I like that the whole process -- confusion, discovery, 
                          delight -- is a kind of mini-version of engaging other 
                          cultures. But I also like watching people slurp jelly. 
                          
                         Tiny Photobooth 
                          Stickers: They're like photobooths, except you get 
                          a whole sheet of stickers, and you can choose from a 
                          bunch of computer graphic frames. I have six of them, 
                          four from Korea, one from Japan and one from Seattle 
                          -- this last one taken in a Korean grocery store while 
                          shopping with a fellow ex-teacher. My favourite frame 
                          is the one saying "It's Bathtime!" (in Korean) with 
                          a soap bubble obscuring my friend Kevin's eye. Analysis: 
                          For Asian schoolgirls who cover their agenda books and 
                          diaries with them, photobooths are about fun and friends, 
                          and we're trying to get in on that. 
                         Korean 
                          Phrasebook (published by Lonely Planet): I was building 
                          my Korean vocabulary from it. I would tape my girlfriend 
                          pronouncing the words and play it back. (I taped over 
                          it recently, but I liked to listen to it because she 
                          giggled a lot between telling me to pay attention.) 
                          Two years later, I would be hard pressed to say five 
                          words in Korean despite having learned a few hundred. 
                          Analysis: I keep it around as a kind of symbol 
                          of having, in good faith, attempted to learn the language. 
                          Better a failure than a indifferent westerner. 
                         Korean 
                          painting: When I left, my co-teacher gave me a long 
                          scroll painting with a very traditional painting of 
                          a persimmon tree and Chinese characters on it, with 
                          a sincere and heartfelt inscription on the back. Analysis: 
                          It's big and says Exotic, so under normal circumstances 
                          it would be too corny for my taste. But fuck it, Mr. 
                          Ahn was one of the sweetest guys I've ever known. 
                         Vegemil 
                          bottle (empty): The convenience stores would sell 
                          these glass bottles of hot vegetable milk during the 
                          winter. Analysis: As beautiful as the glass milk 
                          bottles were -- and with their 70s computer font lettering, 
                          they were lovely -- more beautiful was the fact that 
                          the culture produced something, completely unintentionally, 
                          that a vegan like me could enjoy. 
                         Various 
                          books by Haruki Murakami: I've heard that he's Japan's 
                          highest selling author, which amazed me because his 
                          stuff is haunting and subtle. It might have something 
                          to do with the fact that comics are so popular and acceptable 
                          that maybe the person who would pick up Danielle Steele 
                          here would read a comic in Japan, leaving the book world 
                          for talents like Murakami. Analysis: His interest 
                          in Western culture makes him the perfect crossover writer 
                          -- westerners with a taste for eastern culture love 
                          him, and vice versa. 
                         Pink Ape 
                          Head: This keychain fob, a fist-sized stuffed toy, 
                          was given to me by one of my ten-year-old students. 
                          I attached it to my backpack and wore it around Toronto 
                          for a while, but it was drawing so much attention that 
                          (self-conscious of being perceived as intentionally 
                          eccentric) I took it off. Analysis: Toys, with 
                          their Peter Pan-esque refutation of adulthood and simplicity, 
                          are fun. Toys from Asia have that except you don't have 
                          to relive a Canadian childhood filled with Disney and 
                          Time-Warner brands -- it's nostalgia once removed. 
                        
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