Being Black in Korea

I can only speak to my own experiences. Every other Black person I have spoken to have had much different experiences than me. I felt I wouldn't be of much help telling other Black people what it is like living here, but everyone has their own stories.

l I don't think I have anything truly bad to say. I know what I was getting myself into coming into a homogeneous country on the other side of the world. I accepted that I would stick out like a sore thumb from how dark my skin is to my hair and even the way I dress. I have to say, I haven't felt any different than I have felt back at home in America. There were times where I would realize I am Black and "too different" but it never affected me much. I would get the occasional stares from people, but I didn't think too much about it. I have gotten asked a couple times if someone could touch my hair, but that almost feels normal. There have also been several people that have told me they think my hair was beautiful and that they liked it. I have also had people come up to me asking to take a picture with me, but I expected that. When it comes to people telling me they love Black people or they love Black music and rap, I get a bit uncomfortable. Someone once told me that they love me (not in a romantic way) because of the music "my people" created. I didn't even know how to respond to that. More recently, I sat next to someone on the bus and they immediately got up and moved to another seat. I thought she would get off at one of the next stops, but she didn't, so I only assumed she wanted to move away from me. But she also could have just wanted to sit alone. 

One of the funnier encounters was when I was with my sister, her friend, and two of my friends. We were at Seokchon Lake during cherry blossom season so there were many people walking around. Most of the people that passed by looked at us because we were foreigners. A child, no more than a year or two old, with its family were passing by where we were sitting and the child stopped in front of us. My sister, her friend and I were so clearly Black. He looked at the three of us and would not turn his gaze anywhere else. His eyes were glued and we all couldn't help but laugh. The grandfather tried to get the child to walk away but he wouldn't even move. It was like he was captivated. Even when he was picked up, he still refused to look away from us as he was carried away. It was the funniest thing to happen to me. We realized we may have been the first if not one of the first Black people he had seen so up close.

Fortunately most of the times I got hit with the "I am a Black woman in Korea" I can speak positively about and I can laugh everything else off. I was never made to feel uncomfortable in my own skin. I still love my Blackness and I love being Black. Nothing will take away from that.