DONT EVEN THINK OF ASKING HOW MANY!

Hello dear readers....we interrupt the Burma monotribe to bring you a moment of sheer ego stroking. Well, almost. Strangely I got to celebrate my birthday twice with two different sets of cakes and candles. The first time it was really embarrassing, though, I had tagged along with my younger friend Regan the Kiwi (see ma, I do like 'Regan') to one of his young guys parties, and his friend Sunhi was having a birthday party. As it turned out, they had two cakes, someone had accidentally brought an extra,and he was determined to embarrass me in public.

On the way to the party, I stopped off at Carne Station (ugh.) This is some kind of wallowing trough that represents the worth of both American and Korean cultures. It's a gigantic, all-you-can-eat 'upmarket' buffet whose main attractive feature is the no-name whiskey and well drinks section. Since I'm on antibiotics, that lost most of its appeal; the rest of the food, served in the most unappealing way possible, just didn't seem to measure up to the first time I went there years ago.

Smuggling some hot berry pies out of the restaurant in my coat to Regan and his 'Young Guy' friends, I met them at the local train station and we proceeded to the party only a block away. On the way, we agreed that my age would be 35, since the real number (how dare you for asking!) would be a little bit high for the median age of the party. 35 would still make me the oldest one there, not counting the girls parents.

I can't believe we pulled it off - of course, people had already been drinking for hours by the time we trotted out the lie - and Regan, in a last attempt to make me blush, changed the number to 34, so I adamantly changed it back to 35.

The thing about age in this country is that it is usually one of the first questions Koreans ask. They can't even conjugate their verb properly until they know if they are lower or higher than you in terms of age rank. This age rank thing has got to be one of the most objectionable things Western people find with Confucian culture.

As an example, when there is a fender bender, the two drivers will jump out of their cars and begin accusing each other (this is another problem, admission of guilt is hard to obtain) of being at fault. The language might start dropping in politeness as it would anywhere in the world, and at this point, the older driver might say something like this: How DARE you talk to me that way! I'm OLDER than you..." as if this somehow constituted the logical conclusion to the argument (it doesn't, not even in Korea, because the car remains scratched and has to be paid for - but it sometimes quells further verbal discussion)

This is an ugly side of age rank. There are a lot of good sides as well, such as a reserved elderly seating section on the subway cars (that, in contrast to the west, is never occupied by the young and un-handicapped) and often you will see younger people give up their seat on a crowded bus for an older person. But for me it remains a nightmare; every time I meet someone new, they can't resist asking the question.

Many times I break down and just tell them; and then watch as they grow cold and distantly polite with me, whereas minutes ago we had struck up a warm and interesting conversation. It's a bit like telling people you are HIV positive or something; they're deferential, but a little distant since they know you will die before they do....Ok , maybe that's not the best analogy, but it definately resembles some sort of social pariah status....

This is how I came to have an 'ageist' complex...surrounded by an ageist culture, I don't want to tell anybody anything about my personal details for fear of being labeled, categorized, boxed, and avoided.

But still, you have to admit, two birthdays....now that's a real ego stroking.