further ado, and the boys went their separate ways, observed as it were by AKEMI and SHINO. Actually circumstances are far more circumscribed than reported, TUSK managed to finagle his way unto the two flights from China only because he had no luggage whatsoever, and wearing only his PLA officer’s sweater on top of green cargo pants, he’s already been stared at more than once by the local Koreans and he needed to get more clothes, quick. He also needed to shave, to cut his nails, cut some nose hairs, wash some of the Xinjiang desert dirt out of his hair, and all the other basic hygiene habits expected out of First Worlders. China had made him slack. As if all this were not enough, Yale had asked him to alumni interview the entire three weeks: he had twenty consecutive appointments with Korean… girls. Oh god. From the pajama-clad and buck-naked coolies of western China , TUSK was now going to be surrounded by no less than four hundred girls in the next three weeks. Things had to be done.  

  JOHANN had his own agenda. TUSK is immediately proud and advertising of his hidden capability in Japanese, but JOHANN in addition to English and German speaks an entirely fluent, not even intermediate, MANDARIN. TUCK had not noticed, but there is a contingent of about twenty Mandarin speakers at the program, including two very attractive Taiwanese girls. JOHANN will play with J-girls--and he will play with C's and K's as well. This is going to be the full-court press, and not even a Fulbright Programme will stop him.  

  "Deutschland?"   

  "Yes, indeed," said CAROLINE.  

  "I think there's one other German at this programme."  

  "A Fachhochshuler."   

  "Yes."   

  "I believe he works in Events Promotion."  

  "The Americans here are very interesting though."  

  "How so?"   

  "Apparently one is American and gunning to find a Japanese girlfriend. He speaks Japanese, is trying to build some sort of alliance, and won't play nice with the other Americans."  

  "Sounds very petty to me."  

  "Yes, I suppose so. But I see you are married."  

  "Yes, I am married to a Korean."  

  "You might be entertained by the way things go over the next few weeks."  

  "Just studying the language."  

  The two Germans continued to speak, but much of the essence of their initial meeting had already been accomplished. In elitist German society, the third German at the programme, Sebastian, will already only interact with the other two so long as he does not forget that he is the most junior member. Whereas CAROLINE is a graduate of LUDWIG MAXIMILLIAN MUNICH and JOHANN has a master's degree from HEIDELBERG, Sebastian was streamed out of the top academic track at the age of eleven and ended up going to only what is the equivalent of a community college or polytechnic in Germany for his tertiary education. In this way his fate has been sealed before he even grew his first pubic hair and Germans, classist, cold, rational, see nothing wrong with this; they accept this feature of their culture as inevitable and appropriate. Yet simultaneously, as much as outsider observers feel slightly agog at this particularly Germanic nuance of culture, it still has yet to be proven that any Fachhochshuler has accomplished anything of great note; some have indeed ascended to high positions in business or even government, but none has yet in the last hundred years become a Nobel Prize winner, a creator of genuine literature, or a discoverer of fundamental science. Fate or self-fulfilling prophecy? Only time will tell.  

  "My last name is Von Bock."  

  "A Junker name."  

  "Awarded to my grandfather solely for artistic achievements in facade design."   

  "I do music myself."  

  JOHANN, orphaned at birth, parted ways with CAROLINE but not before exchanging contact information. They were assigned to different classes--JOHANN 2/1 and CAROLINE 2/2, but both would be useful to each other, if only for the moment's respite to speak their native language.  

   ᴥ

  Having examined in close detail the first interactions of the three boys in 2/1 and then two of the three Germans of the program, it is time now to pan the field of vision outward and look on a macroscopic level at the program at large, the zeitgeist of the times, the overarching picture of the reality-frame rather than the detail. This is the year 20xx. For reasons of literary expedience, MIKI KAWABATA is hereby designated the prototypical student of the 2/1 class at Keihwa University Winter Intensive Korean Language Program (KUWIKLP). Aside from being abnormally tall, slightly more elite than average, generally better at English than average, and terrible at cooking, MIKI is for many reasons the “most average” student at 2/1. Her university (CHUO) is a bit better than average, but to contrast this, her age at 26 is a bit higher than average for a fourth-year student. The oldest of three children (one younger sister, one much younger brother), MIKI’s education was delayed after her parents lost considerable money in the RECRUIT fraud scandal. Although graduating firmly in the top 20% of her decently-reputable high school, Miki had to work for three years at various temporary secretarial positions before beginning college. She was thus older beginning university, but once becoming a fourth year student, she felt that her increased maturity and exposure to the “real world” made her a more serious student, got her more out of her university years, and set her firmly on the track to a practical career in marketing after graduation, as compared to the aspiring poets, philosophers, painters or whatnot of the arts programs at CHUO.  

  Miki had heard about KUWIKLP through the student affairs office at CHUO. Aichi Shotuku University had a designated program for Korean language students that operated in cooperation with Keiwha and if the program had cost roughly the equivalent of USD 800 in years past, with the strengthening yen and the dramatically depreciating won, by some measures the entire three weeks at Keiwha would cost roughly the purchasing power equivalency of USD 250. Add another USD 200 for housing and the total cost of the program, USD 450, was less than what some students spent in a month on nights out drinking and singing karaoke. The relaxation factor of spring break would be lost, but in return Miki hoped to gain considerable skills in real-world communicative Korean, perhaps make some new international friends, see more of Seoul, and do a little shopping before she returned for her final year of university studies. She was not, repeat not, interested in making a Korean or other nationality boyfriend; if it happened she would not stop it, but she estimated (correctly) before the program that she would not meet anyone and she would not be engaging in active pursuit of any kind. Miki’s final distinguishing characteristic was that she was a little better traveled than most. Through a student exchange program, she had been to the US for one semester and she had also visited Guam , Thailand , and actually Korea for one week. On arriving at Seoul, she was not infected with “first time abroad fever;” she knew enough to rest and relax her first few days because she would be abroad for three weeks and ultimately gain more out of those three weeks if she didn’t burn out in the first 72 hours.  

  Fascinated in Korean language, music, and culture since an early age, MIKI belonged to a distinct minority of Japanese who actually liked the neighboring country. It is important to designate this particular category accurately, because one might err in both directions in characterizing the exact tenor of the relationship. To say that most Japanese disliked Korea is not an overstatement. To say that most Koreans disliked Japan is similarly not exaggerating facts on the ground. But to say that every Japanese despised Korea and every Korean hated Japan is without question dramatically erring on matters. To characterize matters accurate requires metaphor: how do Americans feel about Mexico? How do Germans feel about Poland? Japanese-Korean relations existed somewhere in between both models, in one sense, but dramatically less so in another. At time of program start, US GDP per capita was 343% of Mexican GDP per capita. German GDP per capita was 191% of Polish GDP per capita. But Japanese GDP per capita was merely 113% of Korean GDP per capita. Did Japanese people feel they were only 13% better than Koreans? Certainly not. But exactly that financia
l ratio underlay the stress-inducing dynamic of the relationship between the two countries; the one rising power on the one hand and the other gently-going-to-seed former imperial power on the other. During World War II, the Imperial German regime had managed to kill 322,000 Americans whereas Japan only managed to kill 159,000 U.S. military personnel. When the German and the Japanese met, the more senior of the two former Axis powers was clear.  

  Miki heard about the Keiwha program through her student affairs office and signed up more than two months prior, wiring the fees through a bank transfer at her local ATM and getting the confirmation less than two business days later. She then booked an airplane ticket through her family’s trusted travel agent, paying about 40% more than she could have paid had she used an online booking site, but getting in return a flight from Haneda to Kimpo rather than Narita to Incheon (the travel time to Narita in particular being tiresome). On arrival at Kimpo Airport , she found a modern, well-organized airport, no less in quality than any First World airport. It is not until she is in Seoul proper at a subway interchange that she first felt a frisson of cultural difference.   

  This is a designation of boundaries, of linguistic and cultural differences.