Butt holes.

Butt holes are huge in Korea. I am not referring to actual sphincter size, I have no idea how the anal sphincters of the South Korean population compare in size to that of the rest of the world nor do I care to know, but I do know that I have never known a people to be so literally up each other's asses. Butt hole poking..pronounced Dddong Chim...is a game held near and dear to the hearts of the South Korean people. The name basically means, "butthole poking with index fingers," ..I'm serious..and that's exactly what it is. The same pose used by American children when playing cops and robbers..or college aged girls posing sexily as Charlie's Angels is used in South Korea for one thing and one thing only, to poke another person in the butt hole. From a young age South Koreans clasp their hands together with the index fingers sticking out, eye the surrounding crowds, and eagerly anticipate the chance to poke the unsuspecting butthole.

I had heard of this butthole phenomenon from many of the male teachers at English Village who had fallen victim to it. Spending day after day around Korean kids it is only a matter of time before one of them decides to pounce. Lucky for me, I was also assured that it was the male teachers who got poked, usually by the also male students (go figure). Infact I successfully managed to avoid anyone's index fingers going anywhere near my butthole, that was until last Tuesday.

Last Tuesday was Children's Day in Korea and English Village went all out. Flowers were planted, banners were hung, and special programs and shows were prepared all to welcome the hordes of children that came through our gates ready for a day of English filled fun. What we didn't realize is that peering out from under each flourescent visor and disguised by each Mickey Mouse t-shirt was a potential butthole poke just waiting to happen.

It started out like any other day: rehearsal, a show, lunch, and little street talk with the guests. I was finishing my puppet show and decided that with my free 10 minutes between activities I'd join my friend Modie who was leading a sing-a-long. It all looked innocent enough. She was entertaining a group of about 10 little girls, holding hands and walking in a circle while singing about each animal that lived on Old MacDonald's Farm. I couldn't help but join in the fun. Grabbing two sweatly little hands I started walking round and round, quaking here and mooing there, really getting into it. That's when it happened. From the corner of my mind I saw a small boy break out from the crowd of passerby's walking down mainstreet. At first I didn't think anything of it, maybe he wanted to come join our circle, maybe he forgot something in the class he just had, maybe his little sister was singing along with us and it was time for her to go. Alas, that was not the case. Before I had time to react he was behind me, hands clasped together, index fingers poised at the ready, and then he poked me: right. in. the. butthole. It all happened so fast, I felt the poke and whirled around breaking the sing-a-long circle and completely forgetting about Old MacDonald's baa-ing sheep. All I saw was a the short dark hair of a Korean boy running back into the crowd, laughing. And then he was gone, swallowed up by the mass of people, like a young antelope protected by the herd.

I'm not sure how but I finished the day. After all this is my job, and I had to be professional. But let my experience serve as a warning to you. If you come to South Korea and decide to take part in an Old MacDonald sing-a-long, be sure you have someone there to watch your butt.hole.