A Day in Hell's Basket

Ok, it wasn’t that bad. Maybe it was more like Purgatory’s Basket. Let’s just say that between an appointment with the Ministry of Decontamination (run by leeches and vampires--more of that in next paragraph), teaching, staying late to plan for the next day, forgetting my keys with a co-worker and not yet having a phone with which to call him, it was a very late, crazy day yesterday. Not only that, but this morning I was so tired that I slept through my alarm, ran out to get a taxi, but it being raining (and me with no umbrella or hood as well), I could not find a cab to save my life (or hair), I made it to work 3 minutes before the bell ran (and 50 minutes late by teacher standards). But, all’s well that ends well.

Except that, I do want to say a thing or two about aforementioned appointment. Yesterday I was taken to a hospital to get the mandatory medical exam that Korea requires of all foreign teachers. It’s one of a pile of new regulations for teachers here (the other being a criminal check, with which I have no objection). I do however strongly object to the medical. I have never before been treated in a more undignified manner in my life. And it’s not because of how the test was carried out. No, there was nothing spectacular about it; it was pretty much the same as similar tests in the west. However, I had to have this test for no other reason than because I chose to teach here in Korea. I did not volunteer; I was not interested in the current medical condition of my body, and the results are not for me alone.

So, my sweet little driver, Charlie, drove me to the Police Hospital during my prep period early afternoon. It was a quiet, sunny ride, seeing as how Charles, god bless him, doesn’t speak much English. As we drove in, I couldn’t help but wonder what in the heck a Police Hospital is. Is it only for police? Is it run by police? My friend suggested it was for the people the police beat up. haha In any case, the hospital is much the same as the Canadian ones I’ve been in. Into a clinic we went, where I waited while Charlie spoke to the receptionists and gave them my paperwork. Then I was escorted down a hall, and subjected to: weighing, measuring, urine tests, blood tests, hearing and sight tests, x-rays, and blood pressure tests, the results of which will be recorded under my passport and alien registration. Good god! I felt like a living science experiment. And here’s the kicker: I got to pay 80 bucks for the process!

What they’re looking for are diseases and/or drugs, since both are fairly rare here compared to North America, and I guess they are trying (in vain perhaps?) to keep them out. But excuse me if I think it’s none of any government’s damn business what’s coursing through my veins, thank you very much, as long as it’s not affecting my work. Even then, I wouldn’t say they’d have the right to take my blood. Fire me, yes, but siphon and study my bodily fluids? No. It’s too far. And in case you were wondering, I am not stoned or sick. Not that it matters to my argument.

There are those who think, “If you aren’t doing anything wrong, then you have nothing to worry about.” I am not one of them. I do not agree with my privacy and freedoms being taken away in the name of the greater good. I think it’s a slippery slope to some kind of monstrous Orwellian system, and I’d rather die than have someone else looking in on every minute or every detail of my life.

As I rode back to work, it was a struggle not to be in a pissy mood, but I did manage it, especially after I got back in the classroom with my little Korean angels. Since I am in another land and I knew of this before accepting my job here, I tolerated it. If I had been in Canada though, it would have been a different story. Thoughts anyone?