I arrived at my local branch of Suhyup… which, incidentally, has the tagline “Fresh Fish, Fresh Bank”. It’s certainly original, I’ll give them that. They even have fish and seaweed wraps available for sale in the bank. Anyway, I arrived around noon, and immediately had to run back to my apartment for my passport, the staffing saying it was a “new rule”… right. The whole point of the Alien Registration Card (ARC) is to eliminate the need to carry around that vital document.
In any case, after 5+ signatures and writing my full name in Roman characters, I can start to see the value in having a dojong (name stamp, 도장). I didn’t register one in Japan until well into my 2nd year, but even an unregistered chop can be used for common transactions, accepting packages, signing up for point cards, etc.
Regardless, I received my passbook and check card, and asked my boss about previous teachers’ experience signing up – did they use Korean characters, in addition to their “legal” English names? Turns out, unlike in Japan where your katakana name (language used for foreign terms) is written on your ARC, passbook, and most other documents, no such duality is required in Korea. Foreign residents certainly can get a chop with all Korean characters, but it’s more for show; I’d imagine you wouldn’t legally need anything like that until you naturalize.
While these forms were being processed, I asked a few more questions: if this was true for foreigners, what about Koreans? What do they generally use for a dojong?
1. Hangul dojong. Generally the cheaply made one. More widely used. About 1000 Won for a plastic one, 5000 for better plastic, 10000 for wood.
2. Hanja dojong. Chinese characters. These name chops are the officially registered ones with the government, and are generally made out of stone or high quality wood. They only come out as-needed. About 50,000 Won.
Soon enough, I was asked to enter my passcode, and promptly received a shiny bankcard and crisp passbook. Luckily for me, there was a name chop designer next to the bank (had thought they just made keys until recently), so I decided to have one quickly engraved. The owner pulled up several different options of scripts on his computer, and I chose one that resembled handwritten, yet not so loopy. I’ve been told foreigners can find those who are willing to engrave Roman and Korean characters on the same stamp, but that wasn’t the case here.
First setback – I deposited all my cash into my new account, and the stamp cost 10,000 Won. I rushed back into the bank to use the ATM for the very first time, only to have my pin number rejected… ugh. Somehow, somehow, my boss’ pin number was imprinted onto my card. Took a few minutes to straighten that paperwork, whereupon I was able to navigate the buttons on the ATM (do you know how long it took me to learn the Japanese for “withdrawal”?) and get 10,000 Won back. Rushed over to the shop, and now I have this beauty:
There’s a bit of a back story to this, as my boss was explaining his connection to the owner of the key/dojong shop. About ten years ago, when he first moved here from Seoul, he was in the habit of ordering things online rather than taking advantage of local businesses. The key guy noticed he had made a rather expensive purchase (electronic door locks) and chastised him for it. I guess that debate isn’t limited to anyone’s borders. But, with the gradual exchange of fruits and vegetables from each other’s farms, and the occasional soju outing, they’re now friends. In fact, my boss recently had him replace the locks on the school.
I’ll be writing about my students and some teaching stories sometime this week. Stay tuned.