April 16 Signs and symbols

After more than eight weeks in Korea, I actually spent time this week with “foreigners.” I was invited to a dinner and talk at the Solbridge International School of Business. The invitation came from Prof. Emanuel Yi Pastreich, an American and friend of Mayor Park; the faculty members I met and spoke with were from many countries with many perspectives on business and business issues. The evening’s guest speaker talked about advanced technology research and the need for international networks of exchange in order to manage to increasingly high costs. From there we went on to discuss the applications of technology, market forces, various roles of government, and social and cultural impacts. I realized that (except for Patti), these were the first non-Koreans I had met and interacted with since coming here. I am glad that my experience thus far has been so intensely and exclusively Korean, but I also enjoyed the wider range of perspectives in a very interesting conversation. A French-Canadian professor who specializes in management issues related to biotechnology firms and who has been in Kuwait the past two years was fascinated by my experience at the Hanwha Eagles game. We will try to go together to a game in my final few weeks.

Another realization I’ve had since coming here is the power of symbols. When you don’t speak the language, symbols can take on a whole new level of usefulness—stop, men’s room, exit, etc. Most symbols seem to be pretty universal now, and we take them for granted. For example, when I see a cross on the top of a spire (a pretty common sight in Korea), I can assume that there is a Christian church beneath it.

One major exception to that is the swastika. Imagine walking down a street in a Seattle neighborhood and seeing a large swastika painted on the side of a building. You would immediately report it as graffiti of the most offensive sort. But not so in Korea.

The symbol itself is actually thousands of years old, showing up in Bronze Age pottery, and the word “swastika” originates in Sanskrit, meaning a lucky or auspicious object. It was incorporated into Hinduism and later Buddhism, where it represents universal harmony and the balance of opposites. Since its adoption by the Nazis in the first half of the twentieth century, it has virtually disappeared in the west except when dredged up by neo-Nazi groups as an emblem of anti-Semitism and white supremacy.

In Korea, however, the symbol retains its original Buddhist meanings and it’s not unusual to see a swastika on Buddhist temples and even on stores or businesses. No matter how often I see it, to these western eyes it’s still very jarring.