Recently, my wife and I traveled to South Korea with my youngest and quietest daughter for her senior trip, a fictitious rite of passage high school graduates use as an excuse to take Instagram pics in exorbitantly expensive locations.
When I graduated from high school, the only senior trip I took was down the road to my summer job as a city pool lifeguard, which gave me a chance to flex my puny pecs in public and slather myself with Panama Jack Dark Tanning Oil. (Apparently, skin cancer wasn’t a “thing” back then.)
Although I’ll be paying for this trip until my future grandchildren graduate from high school, it was the experience of a lifetime. Now, don’t get me wrong. I think the USA is the greatest country on Earth. I fly Old Glory at our house to an annoying extent; I’m loud, proud and off-key on the high notes of the national anthem; and I consume as many processed meat products as possible on the Fourth of July. But South Korea is an amazing, beautiful country, and going there opened my eyes to a few things they simply do better than us here in the good ol’ U.S. of A.
Let's get the obvious out of the way first — toilets. And that's what they're called in South Korea, by the way. They don't beat around the bidet with euphemisms like "bathroom," "restroom," "throne room," etc. And speaking of bidets, South Korea is way ahead of America in this department. Almost every toilet in South Korea greeted me with an advanced bidet, including a control panel more complex than my TV remote. There were warming, drying, pulsating and, frankly, other features that I was afraid to try. Even many of the public toilets I visited featured a bidet. In America, you're likely to come out of a public toilet with a staph infection, or at least an urgent need for a tetanus shot.
Next are the subways. Both the subway stations and the cars we saw in South Korea were immaculate and polished. I would say they’re clean enough to eat off the floors, but unlike many subway systems in America, there was no food on the ground, not so much as a partially eaten slice of kimbap. In subways I've ridden in America, there was more human waste than humans, and at least one human in every car seemed likely to throw some at us (or worse). Even the rats were disgusted.
Finally, South Koreans know how to make nine innings of a professional baseball game fun and exciting regardless of what might be happening on the field. I do love America’s pastime, and it will always have a special place in my unathletic heart. But when I attend an American baseball game, I usually get bored and spend most of my time in the concession area gorging on carbs and nitrates.
In contrast, the South Korean baseball game we attended between the Doosan Bears and the LG Twins had cheerleaders (none as good-looking as my wife, of course), “cheermasters” (none as good-looking as me, of course), chanting, dancing, and singing continuously throughout the game. It’s basically a big party — complete with kimchi, noodles and dried squid. (Ok, I’d rather have a brat with grilled onions, but still...)
The time I spent in South Korea was unforgettable, but it’s great to be back home in America. Even though our public toilets are health hazards, our subway systems double as latrines, and our baseball games are a little stoic, nothing beats celebrating Independence Day with an American hot dog — hold the dried squid.
— Jase Graves
Jason (Jase) Graves is a national award-winning humor columnist, a married father of three daughters, a lifelong resident of Longview, Texas, and a Texas A&M Aggie. He writes about home and family issues from a humorous perspective for the Cagle Cartoons syndicate and his blog. Other than writing, his primary hobby is sleeping as late as possible. His winning Nickie’s Prize for Humor Writing essay, “The Sisterhood of the Giggling Rants,” is included in Sisters! Bonded by Love and Laughter, published by the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop. His piece, “Victoria’s Worst-Kept Secret,” is included in Chicken Soup for the Soul: My Crazy Family.