Asian Gaze

Asian Gaze

“They will stare at you.” I had been told at every pre-departure meeting before I left for Japan. “Be ready. They’ll just keep staring and staring.” Every Light Fellow returning from East Asia seems to include the “staring” observation into his/her Top10 info about the “Asian experience.” The meaning of uninterrupted one-sided eye contact is fairly negative in the West. It stands for rudeness, lack of restraint to cover one’s curiosity, and sticking one’s nose into someone else’s business. To stare means to be childish and immature. Well-mannered adults don’t stare.

When told about the “Asian stare,” one is immediately reminded of the East-West borderline. The message at pre-departure sessions stood as a clear memento of the distinction between the starring (Japanese, Koreans, Chinese) and the being stared at (people with non-East-Asian features). The message contained a self-centered notion of “us” being more interesting, of us being stare-able. It highlighted the fact that those starring must lack life experiences (they haven’t had enough chance to meet non-Asians) and good manners. Otherwise, why would they keep flashing their infantile curiosity in such an unrestrained way?

Arriving to Japan, I surely felt the “Asian stare.” And although I might have gotten used to it over the past year, I am still more than aware of being looked at. On subway, in a convenience store, at school. There seems no escape for a white person in Japan. Starring makes me especially uncomfortable in Japanese and Korean bathhouses.

The onsens of Japan and mogyokdangs of Korea are such amazing spots to relax! Several beautiful pools with mineral water, roman sauna, finish sauna, all surrounded in a beautiful setting. If only, it wasn’t for the staring… Asian spas are definitely not gender-neutral. Boys go to their section and girls go to theirs. No swimsuits are allowed. So, once you get over the fact that you’re completely naked in a pool with a bunch of other naked guys, everything’s alright, if only…

You get completely undressed, you leave your stuff in a locker, you take a shower, you enter the pool area…BANG! Everybody’s eyes are set on you. First head, then chest, then… And you want to shout aloud “Come on, guys! Really? Here too? I’m butt-naked! Hello?!” But bathhouse, no bathhouse, it’s business as usual. They just keep staring…

When relocating to Seoul, I became the object of primary interest once again. And, oh man!, the Koreans really do stare. Lacking the Japanese shyness, Korean stare reaches unimagined dimensions. In Japan, when you stare back, people usually wake up and try to pretend as if no staring had ever occurred. In Korea, you meet the eye of the stare-er, and he/she just keeps staring. “Oh, how cool! Now I can check out the white person’s pupils too!” Last week on subway, some old lady was so hypnotized by my grey hair that, as if unconscious, she moved from staring into actually trying to touch it.

When naked, when dressed, when nervous, when at rest, a non-Asian person gets stared at in Korea at all times. And so I started thinking about the nature of staring. Why does it bother me when people look at me fixedly? And does it bother me? Why should it bother me?! I started to stare back. First, I felt stupid and rude and too direct. But then I began to enjoy staring. What an interesting face! Oh, that lady looks really tired, I wonder why. What’s wrong with that guy’s eyelids? Single eyelids? Oh, for real? How exotic!

I realized that staring is awesome.

Staring at someone else is an expression of a child-like curiosity. Most people in East-Asia have grown up with a little or no exposure to other races, and so when they see a non-Asian person, they grab the learning opportunity. They stare to discover.

Staring is harmless. One is never hurt by being stared at. If you feel uncomfortable, just turn around.

Staring is an expression of genuine interest. When communicating orally with other people, there’s a great deal of ego involved. We all want to say cool things so that we could be considered cool people. Staring, on the other hand, is a purely selfless form of communication. You’re looking at someone else not to show your intelligence, but to learn about the person. A gazer does not want to actively communicate anything; they want to learn about someone else. The only active part is the decision to stare. The rest is the insight that comes out of observation.

Staring is a part of East Asia’s recent success. Staring is a genuine, harmless expression of the hunger to learn more. No aggression or force is involved. The Japanese, the Koreans, and the Chinese excel at observing and learning from other nations. Ever since the Meiji Restoration, the Japanese, in particular, have done an excellent job, scrutinizing the face of the West and implementing what they find appropriate in their own society. I find this process of cultural observation rooted in the omnipresent curiosity. It’s a regional phenomenon, just like the probing gaze.

Living in Japan and Korea, I am trying to study not only the languages of the two countries but also their respective cultures. I’m trying to discover what makes the Japanese/Koreans the way they are. And so, to learn why they stare, I stare. I realized that there is nothing wrong with staring. To stare is not to be rude but curious. Staring is not childish but childlike.

Born in culturally homogeneous Eastern Europe, I too grew up with minimal exposure to other races. I too find myself fascinated by being surrounded by non-white people. I too want to stare. And so I do.

Yesterday, I went to the bathhouse next to my house. I got undressed, left my stuff in a locker, took a shower, and entered the pool area. The old Korean man ardently washing himself stopped his bodily cleanup and starred at me – head to toes, toes to head. I stared back – checking his strange eyelids and spiky Asian hair. He looked into my eyes and I looked into his. I was young and white; he was old and Asian. We started staring at each other because of our differences only to learn that we weren’t that different after all.