Author: Brand Smit

[A few months earlier I had still considered identifying myself to the community of expats as one of them, with the benefits one would expect with inclusion in any group. However, by the beginning of autumn 1997, I began to ask: “Who are these people? Why should I identify myself to them?”]

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Thursday, 2 October 1997

The past few months I’ve been going through a significant phase of personal development. After a period of social interaction, I began to isolate myself again from mainstream currents.

Why? I don’t trust people’s judgment; I have no respect for their social agenda; their limited pool of standards and labels according to which they categorise and weigh you is laughable. Talk about sexual conquests and wild experiences doesn’t impress me. I’m tired of pretending to be one of them and to be exposed to their inability to judge people in a proper way.

I see no sense in either being accepted on their terms or to be merely tolerated. And to be rejected because I don’t fit into their social program and because I don’t make their limited world a little more interesting really makes no difference to my life.

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Thursday, 10 July 1997

01:40: On the way to Seoul.

08:44: The last eight hours went as follows: I was on a train from Chonju to Seoul for four hours – I waited outside Seoul train station for an hour – I ran around like a crazy person with all my luggage for more than an hour in the subway tunnels – I scurried for two hours at Kimpo International Airport – and now I’m sitting in seat 33A, on a plane that will complete the first part of the journey that will take me home. This is indeed the truth.

14:31: Singapore. I’m going to walk around to see what I can spend my money on.

Friday, 11 July 1997

01:14: On the way to South Africa, and totally [exhausted]. I didn’t think it was humanly possible to stay awake for so long. Did you know the brain weighs more than the heart?

04:15 (SA time): For 54 weeks, I lived for this – for this day. Nine months eventually became weeks … weeks became “next week” … “next week” became “this week” … “this week” … “tomorrow” … “tomorrow” … “today”.

“Today” has now been reduced to in about one hour we land in Johannesburg. The fantasy of 54 weeks is quickly becoming reality …

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Saturday, 5 July 1997

Any person can justify taking over political power by force and become a tyrant. Any person can also justify eliminating this tyrant. Any tyrant can justify strengthening his position with any means at his disposal.

A criminal can justify committing criminal acts. Agents of Law and Order can justify hunting criminals as they would a rabid dog to remove him or her from society. The criminal can, of course, justify protecting his freedom against the Agents of Law and Order with all means at his disposal. And the Agents of Law and Order can justify maintaining law and order with all means at their disposal for the sake of Common Good.

Agents of Revolution can justify revolting against (current) Law and Order. And any number of individuals can justify – to others and to themselves – supporting the uprising.

One can therefore say that it wasn’t exceptional for Agents of Apartheid to justify trying to maintain Apartheid by using all means available to them, and it was entirely reasonable for the Agents of the Struggle for Human Rights to justify their fight against Apartheid by all means at their disposal.

Agents of the (current) Order, therefore, find it justifiable to protect the Order against the Agents of Revolution; Agents of Revolution also regard it as justifiable to fight the order with all means at their disposal.

Question: On what do people and groups base the justification for their actions?

Preliminary considerations: Survival of the fittest … common good … anything else?

No person, institution or organisation can take for granted that it is the strongest. Any person, institution, or organisation can justify challenging with all means and methods at their disposal a stronger person, institution or organisation in an attempt to improve its own position.

One Person can therefore justify challenging Other Person if the former believes he can overcome his opponent; and if he overcomes him, that he will be able to defend his new position.

If One Person takes on Other Person in a fight and loses, the latter can justify wiping out with ruthless brutality One Person and even others who think like him. Would it be fair according to the Law of the Jungle, of Beat to Death or Get Beaten to Death? It seems so.

Is the Law of the Jungle morally justifiable? What is the benchmark?

Where, at the end of the day, do you stand as an individual? How do you work out on which side of the line you position yourself?

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Wednesday, 11 June 1997

A man in his mid-twenties concludes after nearly a year in a foreign country that his identity is a product of suburban middle-class culture. He has been well aware of his feelings regarding this particular socio-economic reality, but now he recognises it as the demon that is barking the loudest behind him, that growls the fiercest at him in the darkest hours of the night.

The middle-class suburbia where his roots lie is, however, not the one you see on TV or in the movies. His parents were often broke, and his family experienced long periods of turbulence. To tell the truth, for years they were just middle-class on the surface. Had you scratched a little at them with a fingernail, you’d have exposed them for what they really were: “poor whites” who for the previous ten or fifteen years had not possessed the right car, never had enough money or, for that matter, any decent kind of job, not to mention the fact that they regularly got the chills at the mere thought of the bailiff with his jelled bouffant and his white Toyota who could pound on their front door at any moment to claim everything they owned.

His parents nevertheless always endeavoured to be accepted in the middle-class. Why? “It’s about the type of people we are.”

Despite the fact that his family never really belonged in the suburbs, the protagonist still struggles with what he regards as his middle-class heritage – the culture, physical appearance, and ideas of what an adult should do with his life.

The fact of the matter is, and this should surprise no one, this particular character despises suburban middle-class culture! The things they value … the pettiness … the fear and anxiety about what it would do to your status if something should go wrong. It’s one step away from the grave! The petite bourgeoisie? That’s exactly what it is! The class of pettiness!

The question is, how does the main character of this story go about processing his uncompromising contempt for what he regards as the source of his identity?

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Sunday, 8 June 1997

Okay, I’m going to read this entry later on and think: “Shit, so that’s how I felt back then!”

I hate Korea. I fucking hate it here. I can’t take it anymore. I’m lonely, cut off from my family, and cut off from my language and my culture. I’m basically just hanging on.

I sometimes feel like a prisoner. People talk to me in public and I feel like I’m obliged to be polite. I can’t just tell them to move on, I’m not in the mood to chat.

Can you believe that months ago, say February/March, I was so positive at times? Here I am on the fucking eve of the second week of JUNE, four and a half weeks before I go home, and I feel like I’m going to shit in my pants from just enough!

Okay, it’s Sunday. I’ve … survived three days in my own company. What do I expect? To feel good?

I’ll feel better at the end of this week. This week I’ll sort out my work permit, and by the end of the week, it will only be three and a half weeks before I go home …

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