On Cleanliness

It goes without saying that habits of cleanliness are cultural and that Korea is a little bit behind America in the department.

Scene A, Dunkin' Donuts. I'm waiting for my bubble tea (iced peach, thanks). A mom comes in with her two kids, roughly 4 and 8 years old. They choose their own donuts with bare hands - not the tongs provided - from the cabinets. The younger one grabs a second dounut - like, full palm on the frosted donut - and his mom says he can't have it. She then proceeds to remove the donut from his hand with tongs and place it back in the cabinet. We're talking about 70 cents worth of chocolate donut. I'm a teacher; kids are dirty. Consume donuts at your own risk.

Scene B, about 3 hours later, in the school bathroom. Korean bathrooms typically don't have toilet paper, soap, or a means for drying your hands. My school keeps toilet paper and a bottle of soap at the front desk for the students and teachers. My Korean co-worker Jenny comes out of a stall and sees me washing my hands. She seems surprised and asks, "Do you wash your hands every time?" "Yes." "Really? With that?" (pointing at the soap) "Um, yes." "Oh! Wow!" And then she leaves the bathroom without touching soap or water. This is an adult. You can only imagine why I don't ever accept loose snacks from the kids or let them use my pencils or hold my hands.

Scene C, two days later, outside the bathrooms at Sangju Beach. I'm entering the ladies' room and I see the elderly Korean woman who sells corn dogs crouched next to the wall mixing a bucket full of corn batter with unfiltered water (a big no-no, especially in tiny villages like Sangju) from the public spicket. She's mixing it with her bare hand/arm and she's up to her elbow in batter. Germophobic tears of frustration and anxiety well up in my eyes and I nearly vomit the corn dog I bought from her the night before.

I need a germ helmet.