Issue Date: 12 / 2012

Festival Provides Opportunity for Korean-American Expression

While driving out to Bull Run Park in Manassas, Virginia to attend the 10th annual Korean-US (KORUS) festival, I realized that I didn’t know much about Korean culture. I had no idea what to expect when I arrived at the celebration of culture. Would I be the only non-Korean to attend the festival? Would the people there treat me differently because I wasn’t part of their culture? I knew that I loved Korean barbeque, after being introduced to the delectable cooking style by a Korean friend. I enjoy learning about ethnic foods; however, Korean culture consists of more than kimchi and bibimbap.                After exiting I-66, I crept along with about forty other vehicles toward the park. We were all headed to the same gravel parking lot overlooking a wide expanse of green, framed by a double row of large white tents. Upon entering the grounds, I noted that a large stage with several large speakers had been set up facing the open lawn. Korean pop music - K-pop, for short - in video format was playing on a huge television screen above the stage. About one hundred people were scattered around the lawn, most were clearly families sharing a blanket for seating. Some of the smaller children danced to the K-pop, but nearly everyone else seemed to be relaxing in the afternoon sun.                Behind the lawn and in front of the tents, a food truck stood out like a beacon. It was fire-engine red with white writing announcing that it was the Kimchi Taco bus, of New York City food truck fame. The menu features tacos, cheesesteaks, and burrito bowls, all topped with fresh or sautéed kimchi. Attesting to the delicious food, a line of people waited patiently to get their hands on a $3 kimchi burrito. After trying about a dozen of the two hundred varieties of kimchi, I can appreciate how a burrito stuffed with the fermented cabbage would be a tasty treat.                As I mentioned earlier, Korean culture does not boil down to kimchi any more than American culture distills to the innumerable varieties of chili. Instead, the food becomes just one more way to express culture. Different regions and ingredients produce different flavors and styles, but everyone knows what the dish is when they taste it. Luckily, kimchi is a dish that lends itself to experimentation and fusion. Not all foods can claim this attribute (sauerkraut-topped pancakes, anyone?).                Many people believe that the best kimchi is homemade, which brings me to another point of Korean culture: family. The largest tent at the festival featured the kids’ zone, a handful of games designed for children of varying ages. Toddlers were encouraged to use mini-fishing poles to catch plastic fish in a kiddie pool or play with blocks. Teenagers did their best to look bored while constantly checking their phones; however, while some moved around in groups, the majority stayed close to their parents.                School-aged children (and some who were far beyond) lined up to play tuho, a game in which arrows are tossed into a vase from behind an established line. The players took turns tossing while a drummer played a slow rhythmic beat until one of the arrows made it into the vase. He then played a double-time beat until a missed toss, at which point he reverted to the original speed. I found the change in speed interesting because it let everyone know when a point had been scored, whether they were watching or not.                Regardless of the activity or age of the child, I noticed that the parents were always close at hand. I was recently told by a Korean man that Koreans are not necessarily smarter than other people around the world. Rather, they achieve their success by focusing on the education of their children and promotion of habits for studying and learning. To even the most casual observer at the festival, the attention that Korean parents bestow upon their children is evident.                Another facet to Korean family culture that I witnessed consists of care for the elderly. Although I saw more than a few gray-haired people working the food booths, plenty were simply seated at the picnic tables present. Younger people brought plates of kimchi and fish cakes to them, and cups filled with steaming tea or coffee were placed on the tables before them. The elderly were not relegated to the sidelines, but fully included in the family.                The sense of community was strong at the festival. A station had been set up to give flu shots, while a few booths raised political and social issue awareness. The multi-generational volunteers and workers did not distinguish between people they knew and strangers. Everyone was invited to share in the festivities and food. It seemed that every other booth had a kind, older woman who wanted nothing more than to feed me samples of kimchi, rice, and other delectable foods.                Another tie that seemed to bind everyone together was the music. Everyone clapped when the performers finished their songs, but I seriously doubt that Korean rap and K-pop are the music of choice for everyone who was present. Instead, the celebration of Korean language and culture became more important than the individual. To my disappointment, I did not witness any of the flash mobs performing Psy’s “Gangnam Style.” The K-pop performers whose performances I did see were very good, though.                A girl with bright red hair sang a slower ballad-like song; she was the winner of the 2011 singing contest. What was interesting is that she was not Korean. She liked the music so much that she learned Korean in order to sing in the language. It was the same case for this year’s winner, Shervonne Brown, an African-American young woman who sang a more up-beat song. Then a rap duo called the Yellow Boyz took the stage, receiving much more applause from the older audience members than I expected.                Although I had initially worried how I might be received as a non-Korean with no ties to the population, I felt completely comfortable at KORUS 2012. The strong themes I witnessed - family, language, food, and music - all contributed to the celebration of culture. The festival is an opportunity for Korean-Americans to express themselves through many avenues. For non-Koreans, we reap the delicious and entertaining benefits in the way of kimchi and K-pop. Tiffany Kajer Wright is a freelance writer who moves around the country with her Naval Officer husband. She recently escaped from George Mason University with highest honors in English. She has written over twenty articles for DC Füd – an online foodies’ publication – and currently writes for The World & I Online and NoveList. She, her husband, and their ridiculous cat live in Washington, DC.