The Allure of Familiarity

While studying the “Korean Wave” phenomenon in class last week, there was an element to it that I don’t believe was brought up. It appears, at least to me, that the focus of this cultural craze is essentially limited to East Asia. The "Hallyu" fad was shown to be strong in places such as Japan, China, and Thailand, but didn’t appear at all in India, the Muslim world, Europe, or the Americas. While I’m sure that there are Korea aficionados in all of these places, the culture wave appears not to have struck outside the East and Southeast Asian regions. It appears that there are powerful cultural boundaries that seal off these places from the rest of the world, creating an invisible divide through which few mass ideas can pass. While there have been instances in the past of Asian fads catching on in Western countries (read: Pokémon), large cultural movements never seem to advance past the continent. Yet, on the other hand, such movements receive wild popularity within East Asia, despite regional language and cultural barriers. Why is it that Asian nations have no trouble accepting each others’ cultures, while non-Asian nations are unable to? And can the same be said of non-Asian nations and their own cultures?

I think that at the heart of every society, there is a dualistic view on alien cultures. On one hand, the allure of the unknown draws people into experimenting with foreign ways of life. However, the part that always throws people off is the wholly different mindset and worldview that breeds such behavior. The process of viewing the world from an alternate perspective is too hard for most individuals to grasp, so instead, they search for inroads based on cultural values they can understand. Despite the conscious desire to encounter the exotic, the individual looks for familiar signs upon which to base their experience.

In 2006, the Asian nations experienced another such cultural fad when the young heir to the Bhutanese throne, Crown Prince Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck, arrived in Thailand to attend the Thai King’s 60th Anniversary. He had rarely been seen in public before, since he had spent most of his life in his native Bhutan, a small Himalayan state known for its beauty and seclusion. His sudden appearance and dashing good looks made him a superstar, and for weeks afterward, Asian tabloid papers and magazines would publish stories about him and life in Bhutan. By the end of the year, Khesar had been crowned King, and he was declared by Asian media sources to be the most eligible bachelor in Asia.

However, despite his popularity throughout Asia, Khesar has not achieved such notoriety in the West. Despite differences in media reporting, I would place the cause of this on differing images of beauty in the East and the West. In Asia, Khesar clearly fit the “Prince Charming” archetype; he was young, handsome, and heir to the throne of a foreign kingdom. However, I would contend that Asian audiences would more likely picture Bhutan as this foreign kingdom, while European and American audiences would more likely think of places like Monaco or Liechtenstein. This is not based on racism; rather, each audience subconsciously chooses a locale that seems different enough to be intrigued, yet familiar enough to understand. As an Asian country, Bhutan is presumed to have Asian values, despite its unique culture. It therefore appeals to Asians as unusual, but in a non-confusing manner. The same holds true for Westerners and nations like Monaco or Liechtenstein.

No matter where we come from, no matter how fascinated we may be by other cultures and peoples, we will always try at first to view them through our own lens of familiarity. Instances of this kind of thought range from Disney films to transnational political movements, and while they may be either harmful or benign, they are indicative of the challenges we face in effectively managing intercultural communication.

Perry Landesberg