The People I Met at Japanese Class (1)
It wasn't only the Japanese instructor whose eyes had lit up. Everyone else at today's chaekgeori was staring at Kim Chirok with the same gleam, envy written plainly on their faces — he was a Seoul National University graduate, after all.
The older student looked at Kim Chirok and spoke up again.
"Forgive me for asking, but are you married?"
"I'm single."
"An SNU graduate working at H Group — you'd be a first-class catch."
"I wouldn't go that far."
Kim Chirok considered pointing out that a man without a home of his own had a hard time getting married, then thought better of it.
"So, seeing as you're studying Japanese, are you looking to work in a Japan-related division?"
"No. I'm just doing it for self-improvement."
"Lucky you. Me, I'm not here for self-improvement — I figured I'd pick up some Japanese and try my hand as a shuttle trader, but it's not going the way I'd hoped. Maybe I'm just not that bright. I can't seem to memorize a thing."
The instructor looked at the older student.
"You're doing quite well for your age, sir."
"No, it's hard. By the way, did you study in Japan, teacher?"
"Yes, I did."
"No wonder your pronunciation is fantastic."
"Hehe. Thank you."
This time, a male student around Kim Chirok's age addressed the Japanese instructor. Judging by the fact that he wasn't wearing a tie, he didn't look like someone who worked at a major corporation.
"Did you study in Tokyo, teacher?"
"No. I studied in a place called Yamanashi Prefecture."
The older student cut in.
"Where's this Yamanishi Prefecture supposed to be? They even have a university out there?"
"Think of it as sitting between Tokyo and Osaka. I studied comparative literature in graduate school at Tsuru Bunka University, in Yamanashi Prefecture."
"Oh, is that so? Then you did your undergrad in Korea?"
"Yes. I graduated from the Japanese Language and Literature department at K University in Seoul."
"Huh. So you're practically Japanese at this point."
Kim Chirok took the young Japanese instructor for someone who had properly studied her field. What's more, when she spoke she would tilt her head the way Japanese women did. She seemed like a woman who had become quite Japanized.
A round of beer made its way around the table.
The older student turned this time to the young man around Kim Chirok's age.
"Have a drink, young man. Are you learning Japanese for business too?"
"No."
"No? Then what do you do?"
"I work at a real estate company. Not a big one — about twenty employees."
"A real estate guy studying Japanese? You trying to sell properties to Japanese clients?"
"It's not that. I want to try dating a Japanese woman."
"A Japanese woman?"
"I went to a no-name regional college, and I don't even live in Seoul — I'm out in the suburbs. Who's going to marry a guy like me? And I'm not tall like the gentleman over there, either."
He shot a sidelong glance at Kim Chirok as he said it.
The older student laughed.
"I hear a lot of Japanese women are into Korean men these days, right? YouTube's full of that stuff."
The Japanese instructor smiled as she spoke.
"Some of them, I'm sure. Cultural differences make it far from easy, though. That said, the Korean Wave has genuinely improved Japan's image of Korea. That's a fact."
The young man from the real estate company spoke up again.
"If you date a Japanese woman, you don't even need to own a home. If the two of you like each other, you can start out in a rental. Korean women have so many conditions, you know?"
"So that's why you're learning Japanese — to pick up a Japanese girl? Makes sense."
Everyone learning Japanese had a purpose. There was the older man who'd come to try shuttle trading, and there was the young man who'd come to date a Japanese woman.
So then, why was Kim Chirok learning Japanese?
Of course, earning a second-language certification would help with his performance reviews, but the actual impact was vanishingly small. Performance reviews hinged far more on results — and on luck. Could it be that, somewhere in his heart, he wanted to see Hirosue Yoshiko, Japan's finest geisha?
He couldn't say for certain. Not yet. But he, too, had nothing but the SNU nameplate to his name. He was the son of a desperately poor family, with neither a home nor a car to his name.
A woman who weighed a man's circumstances, he suspected, would not open her heart so easily. Love was love, and reality was reality.
When the meal was nearly finished, Kim Chirok asked the instructor quietly.
"Do you happen to know Hirosue Yoshiko?"
"Hirosue Yoshiko? I'm not sure I do. Is she a celebrity?"
Kim Chirok hemmed and hawed. He regretted asking. Here he was, inquiring about a famous geisha to a demure-looking young woman instructor.
When Kim Chirok said nothing further, the instructor spoke again.
"I don't know a Hirosue Yoshiko, but I do know Hirosue Ryoko."
"Hirosue Ryoko?"
For a moment Kim Chirok wondered if Hirosue Yoshiko and Hirosue Ryoko were the same person. The instructor continued.
"Hirosue Ryoko is a well-known actress. You're familiar with Keigo Higashino, aren't you, Mr. Kim?"
Keigo Higashino was a name he'd heard somewhere. He just couldn't place it with any certainty. At this rate, a Seoul National University graduate was about to be exposed as knowing nothing at all.
Suddenly the young man from the real estate company jumped in.
"Teacher! Isn't Keigo Higashino a famous Japanese mystery novelist?"
Only then did it come back to Kim Chirok. He'd read one of the man's books once, during a school vacation or something of the sort. But Kim Chirok was a business administration major; he'd read plenty of books on management and precious few novels.
He didn't care for poetry either, unlike his father and mother. He'd always regarded a love of poetry as nothing more than a wellspring of poverty.
The instructor smiled.
"Yes, that's right. A famous mystery novelist. A great many of his works have been introduced in Korea."
"But why bring up Keigo Higashino all of a sudden?"
"One of his novels is called Secret. It was adapted into a film, and Hirosue Ryoko starred in it."
"Oh, really?"
"Hirosue Ryoko won Best Actress in Japan for that film."
"Then Hirosue Ryoko wouldn't be in her twenties, I take it."
"No, she's not. She'd be in her mid-forties by now, I imagine."
In that case, Hirosue Ryoko and Hirosue Yoshiko were different people. Hirosue Yoshiko was still in her early twenties.
"Then Hirosue Ryoko and Hirosue Yoshiko aren't the same person."
"Shall I look up who Hirosue Yoshiko is?"
"Ah — no! There's no need. I must have gotten the name wrong."
Kim Chirok arrived home in Bongcheon-dong a little late, after the chaekgeori had wrapped up.
His mother was sitting on the living room sofa, reading a book. A book of poetry, no doubt.
Kim Chirok had called to say he'd be eating dinner out. Even so, it seemed his mother had been waiting for him.
Dad needs to get home sooner. Then Mom won't sit around waiting for me.
Kim Chirok lay down on his bed and tried to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. He kept thinking of what the real estate employee had said at the chaekgeori.
If you date a Japanese woman, you don't even need to own a home. If the two of you like each other, you can start out in a rental. Korean women have so many conditions, you know?
Kim Chirok couldn't even begin to imagine buying a home of his own.
He'd thought graduating from Seoul National University and landing a job at a major corporation would solve everything. Reality had proven otherwise. The reality check had finally hit.
Lim Jae-geun, the one who'd tormented him, had been a worse student than he was. And yet that man had become a licensed professional, and was already married. The apartment in Songpa-gu that his parents had bought him had already gone up by seven hundred million won, they said. His newly built apartment was now going for 2.5 billion.
Should I date a Japanese woman too?
A Japanese woman, he suspected, wouldn't complain about not living in Gangnam. She wouldn't complain about him not owning a home, either. Even a rental would do, so long as it was a new apartment in the greater Seoul area.
What's more, most Japanese people lived in small floor plans. If he could just lease a Gukpyeong apartment, he'd probably be welcomed with open arms.
The real estate employee, though — whether it was because he'd gone to a no-name college or not — had abysmal Japanese. With skills like that, expressing his feelings in front of a Japanese woman still seemed impossible.
And then there was the older student who wanted to try shuttle trading with Japan. Kim Chirok worried about him too. The man floundered even worse than the real estate employee. At that level, if he tried to negotiate with Japanese people, he'd more likely end up getting scammed.
If he's retired, he should learn a trade and find another job.
The instructor, having studied abroad in Japan, seemed to have excellent Japanese. But the way she looked at him was strange, and that made him uncomfortable too. The Japanese teacher seemed demure enough, but she wasn't his type.
The next day arrived.
When lunchtime came, Kim Chirok headed to the company cafeteria with his senior, Deputy Song.
Today, as usual, a few executives sat at their table, and Bang Mihee from the secretarial office was eating with them.
Kim Chirok filled his tray and was looking for an empty seat when the head of the Strategic Planning Office called out to him. Apparently the office head hadn't gone out for lunch today.
"Hey! Kim Chirok! There are plenty of empty seats here — where do you think you're going?"
"Sir? That's the executives' table, so..."
"There's no sign that says 'executives only,' is there? Come sit down."
"Well... that seat..."
"I said come sit down."
Deputy Song had already made a beeline for a different table.
Kim Chirok had no choice but to sit in an empty seat among the executives.
"Why are you sitting so far away? Come here!"
So he moved over two seats. That put him directly across from Bang Mihee. Kim Chirok offered her a brief nod of greeting. He'd seen her once before, when delivering documents.
Bang Mihee remained seated with her usual haughtiness, her long-lashed eyes opening as she looked Kim Chirok up and down.
Sitting across from her, he caught a faint waft of cosmetics.
Bang Mihee's clothes looked expensive. She even ate with an air of superiority. The other female employees sat in twos and threes, chatting as they ate, but this woman always dined alone, aloof and proud.
The office head looked at Bang Mihee and smiled.
"Bang Mihee — you know this fellow?"
"Yes. I believe I've seen him once."
"This is the best worker in our Strategic Planning Office. He graduated from SNU's business school."
Instead of answering, Bang Mihee simply studied Kim Chirok with care.
"And Kim Chirok came in first when he joined our group through the open recruitment."
In truth, the group's open recruitment didn't rank candidates. There was only pass or fail. And yet today the office head had claimed Kim Chirok had come in first.
For the head of a major conglomerate's Strategic Planning Office, Kim Chirok thought, the man was saying some remarkably pointless things.