2015/03-04 : “Who are the real men? What does it mean to be a real man?”

“Who are the real men?

What does it mean to be a real man?”

Bhavana John Bosco

두바이 법인 IMC팀 AE / riiko@hsad.co.kr

Bhavana Bohn Bosco는 두바이에서 태어난 인도인지만, 다른 한국인보다 더 토종(?)한국인처럼 HS애드 두바이법인에서 일하고 있다. 지난 호에서는 주말과 휴일에 밴드에서 노래하는 가수로서의 삶과 두바이 법인 입사 초기의 힘찬 적응기를 소개한데 이어,이번 호에서는 예능 프로그램 ‘진짜사나이’를 즐겨보는 이유와 프로그램을 통해 알게 된 한국 군대 문화에 대한 재밌는 생각들을 보내왔다.

I recently started watching the popular variety program “Real Men” on a colleague’s recommendation. Although the subject of soldiers and the military is one that is personally very close to my heart I wasn’t really particularly interested until they mentioned that they recruited foreigner idols on the show.

And so it began. Whenever I had free time I started a “Real Men” marathon watching the episodes back to back. Soon I found myself addicted to the show and waiting to discuss the new episodes with anyone and everyone willing to listen. Not really because the show was engaging and enjoyable, which it was. I think what drew me to watch was because I could very well relate to the lone struggle of Amber Liu and Henry Lau on the show. Being the only foreigner in the show among an all Korean cast and that too, a show aimed at giving the idol cast and the viewers a physical and visual experience of the raw hardships endured by soldiers serving their mandatory term in the ‘Korean military’, I could only imagine the emotional and physical hell that was going to be unleashed on these unsuspecting targets. It does not take a genius to know that military life is hard. However, to go through that when you don’t understand the language, when you can barely comprehend what they were ordering you to do and to deal which with the subsequent impatience of your squad leader when you can’t do things right. The scene where the military leaders were using difficult military terminology which was raining down on Amber was too close to what I experienced in the office or when I was just hanging out with my Korean friends. Too often I have misunderstood what my seniors have said due to the language barrier and difficult work terminology and it brought about serious misunderstandings while dealing with work. The weight of knowing that a small mistake that you make can affect the work your whole team does is a huge emotional burden to bear.

Even though my team was nice enough to explain my mistakes for me and told me that it’s ok to make mistakes I couldn't help feeling sorry to everyone who were cleaning up the mess I made. Subsequently it is also a lonely feeling because you seem to misunderstand simple things that others can understand very easily. My sister laughed watching the scene when words just bounced off Amber’s head but I couldn't bring myself to even crack a fake smile, knowing too well how it felt.

The tears I gifted to this show and to Henry and Amber were endless. I cried real tears watching their hardship when no one could understand them and then proceeded to cry tears of joy when I witnessed them perform better than the others. Should I call it a Mother’s heart? Or could it be a fellow foreigner’s understanding having gone through a similar situation? Of course my family watched all of my antics quietly while silently but conspicuously making soundless hand motions at each other.

I could literally hear their wordless dialogues all on the lines of “What’s wrong with her this time?”, “It must be a new tragic makjang drama”.

A lot of things struck me while watching the series.

I wondered why military life had to be made to be so strict and so stringent. After all you live only once and it didn’t make any sense to me why it had to be spent in such suffering. The Squad leaders in the red hats appeared to me, to be cruel tyrants who seemed to enjoy the torture they were inflicting on the helpless soldiers. I myself would find myself sitting up straight when the squad leaders came in the picture even though I was watching the show from a mobile screen. Such was the intimidating atmosphere that they created. I could only imagine how much more nervous the soldiers in training might have been with the squad leaders breathing down their necks. I didn’t miss a minute from the pushups to the gas chamber training to the excruciating exercise session which had the soldiers crying out in agony. I could literally see the suffering etched on their faces and to be honest it was painful to watch. My heart hurt for them and I wondered helplessly on the other side of the screen if there was nothing I could do to help.

Of course not all was terrible. There were surprisingly heartwarming moments as well. While I was shocked at the strict and harsh nature of the military, I was also taken aback back by the nature of the friendships that blossomed between the soldiers. It was friendship unlike any other that I had seen,defined by selflessness and backed by self-sacrifice and words of reassurance to the other. While the squad leaders used harsh

words like “Soldiers do not cry!”, “WHY IS YOUR VOICE SO SMALL?” and “GET UP!” comrades used encouraging words like “Don’t cry. Aren’t we all here for you?”, “Don’t be sorry to me. We are one” and “Don’t give up! You can do it”.What a stark contrast. They were constantly encouraging each other and comforting one another, going as far as to wipe away the tears of their comrades when they were having a hard time but making sure to let them know that they can do a better job next time. You cannot help but develop loving feeling and affection for comrades such as these. Just mere minutes ago I was feeling sorry for them and now I was envying them. If all friendships were like these, how beautiful the world would be.

Curiously enough the squad leaders did not stop the soldiers from helping each other, comforting each other or encouraging each other. Rather this was encouraged. The squad leaders always prompted the soldiers to loudly cheer one another to do better when they were about to give up. It dawned on me that maybe this strict atmosphere was on purpose in order to nurture comradeship and togetherness. Maybe their bonds were stronger because they weren’t suffering alone but together. And they could sympathize and encourage each other better because they are also in the same shoes.

It got me thinking about real soldiers and real life war situations.

What it meant to be a soldier then took new meanings for me. I started researching on the life of soldiers and what happens to those die in war and who come back after surviving war. It was a grim new reality. I used to think soldiers were extraordinarily brave people who were not afraid of death. However my research revealed otherwise and I understood that they were human too.

They felt fear too just as you or I would but they persevered in spite of that terrible fear because they had something to protect.

Family, Comrades, Country. I realized for the first time how many soldiers willingly walked into an unknown future, not knowing whether they would come back alive for the sake of people like you and me who would sleep soundly, not knowing the lives that were sacrificed for our safety. I realized how many mothers sent their sons and daughters to the military their hearts being torn apart not knowing what fate would befall their precious children. I realized how many soldiers come back from war emotionally scarred from the atrocities of what they have seen and the comrades that they have buried.

These are the real men. Not the men who look like they are not afraid. Not the men who just look strong and manly. Not the men who do not cry. It is those people – men and women who are just as human as any of us, who feel the same happiness, the same pain, shed the same tears and feel the same crippling fear at the close of death but who persevere in spite of that for what they have to protect.

The following excerpt is one that I found during my research and it hit me hard. I hope it inspires you too and imprints on your heart the sacrifice that our soldiers make every day for us.

Let us not forget.

“One day I got surrounded, backed into a corner, eight to one. Instinct, self-preservation kicked in and I jumped behind a torn piece of wall. Footsteps echoed loudly, the sound of impending doom. I was trapped, there was no escape. As I sat there clutching my gun, I trembled for the life that was going to get snatched away from me. A violent terror gripped me and I was rooted to the spot. Then I thought of the people I fought for, my country, my comrades who had bravely given their lives and strength poured through me. I would not die cowering behind a wall like a coward; I would fight till my last breath.

My body stiffened with resolve, stilling the tremors of my limbs and I emerged with a yell from my hiding spot. Eight waiting guns emptied themselves into my body and I fell backwards gracefully, towards the beckoning arms of death.

Don’t pity me, because I died completing my mission. I died inline of duty. I died to keep you safe.

But remember me. Remember all of us, remember our sacrifice.I march with my dead comrades towards another life.

Remember who I was.

“I was a soldier.”

silently