Bathhouse Ballads

A Summer Snippet – Circumcision (포경 수술)

Posted in Comparative, Diary notes, Gender, Korean children by 努江虎-노강호 on August 16, 2010

Circumcision (포경 수술)

If there is one subject rarely talked about in Korea, it is the subject of circumcision. I was actually quite surprised when I discovered that Korea has the highest percentage of secular circumcision in the world, outstripping the USA. Over the age of 18, Korean circumcision rates exceed 90 percent.

By the time boys go to high school, the majority of them will have been circumcised and the most common time to perform this is between 13-16 years of age and usually during the winter vacation.  Some boys are circumcised earlier and a fair number may delay having it done. I occasionally notice university students who are uncircumcised but it is safe to assume that by the time they go to military service, they will have undergone the procedure.

Occasionally, I will know a boy is either about to have a circumcision or has just had one. Sometimes they will tell you and at other times the pained manner in which they walk makes it obvious. On a few occasions the subject has cropped up in lessons but it is never discussed in front of girls. It’s not unusual for a boy to be in classes the day after his operation though some will take a few days off.  Unlike the UK and USA, where non-neonatal circumcision involves a general anesthetic and an overnight stay in hospital, in Korea, it is performed under local anesthetic. Neither are operations performed in hospitals, but clinics which are as prolific as dentists or doctors. There is a circumcision clinic (Urology Clinic) opposite E-mart in Song-So and within minutes of having been circumcised, you can enjoy a Big Mac in their McDonald’s.

‘Ouch’

Aesthetically, Korean circumcisions are much neater than those performed in some other countries. Traditional circumcision in the Philippines, for example, known as pagtutuli, shouldn’t even be classed as circumcision and in the USA, an additional operation known as frenulectomy (frenuplasty – of which their are various spellings), which as many as 33% of circumcised males have had, removes the highly erogenous frenulum. Parents are not asked for consent to perform this ‘bonus’ procedure and indeed many men are unaware what was removed.  While the subject of circumcision is controversial, frenulectomy slips by unnoticed and most parents are ignorant as to what is involved. In addition, American circumcision has a history of being the most radical. In Korea, frenulectomy is not conflated with circumcision and the type of procedure doesn’t remove as much foreskin as possible.

I underwent a circumcision in August 2001 at the clinic opposite E-Mart, in Song-So. I had been debating the idea for several years and finally decided to take the plunge as I had never been happy with my status, probably because as a boy most of my friends were circumcised. I quite amazed myself at the time as I had visited my doctors and arranged everything for Thursday, 16th of August. The arrangement took less than a minute and there was no asking why I wanted it doing. My doctor simply made a phone call and booked me in. The operation would cost 100.000W (about £50), would take twenty minutes to perform and would be carried out in the same building as my doctor’s surgery.

A suitable totem pole near Kayasan

August 16th, 2001. I had to teach on the Thursday morning and though not as hot as a few weeks previously, it was terribly humid. In my classes, many of which had no air conditioning, my shirt was soaked with sweat. I had already perceived that I wouldn’t be in any fit mental state to teach and so had run-off some word puzzles for the kids. When my classes finished, I  frantically smoked a couples of fags on the back stairwell and paced up and down. I didn’t really want to leave school and there was an unpleasant feeling in my stomach, but eventually everyone wished me luck and I took a taxi home.

I showered and then gave my friend David (이영순) a call. He arrived a few moments later as he had been waiting at the PC Bang, next door. I don’t think I had ever been so nervous, so much so my hands were trembling. Out on the street, we took a taxi and went straight to the clinic. I was early, so we went to the third floor of the building where I had a brief chat and cup of coffee with my doctor. Then, at 1.59 pm, he said, ‘Oh, Nick, it is time.’ And telling me not to worry, I walked down the stairs to the urology clinic. None of the doctors there spoke very good English so David sat in the clinic office with me and asked the surgeon the list of questions I had compiled:

“What happens if I get a hard-on during the operation?”  He laughed and said that wouldn’t happen. What sort of stitches would be used – dissolving or non-dissolving?” I was given a choice and told non-dissolving left less of a scar. “What happens if I get an erection over the next few days?” I was told to stick a cotton bud in my ear or stick my feet in icy water. “’When could I shower next?” Next week!

I was then taken into the operating room which was small and not unlike a dentist’s surgery.  In the center stood that ominous table. Dropping my trousers and boxers I lay down and wondered what the fuck I had let myself in for.

Everything everyone had told me worked out the opposite. David had told me to expect two injections (later it became four) well, I was given eight and they stung. I covered my eyes and ears for the whole operation as there was a radio playing shit Korean music and the three surgeons kept fucking singing along to it. David had told me that sometimes you hear the scissors snicking away and I did, even the radio or the surgeons’ singing didn’t drown it so I had to jam my thumbs in my ears. Then the overhead light was so bright I had to cover my eyes. Several people had said the operation would take around twenty minutes, in fact it took forty. Then, all apart from Pak Ji-won (박지원),  one of my older students, I had been told it wouldn’t hurt. It did! But not at first. Shortly after the snicking sounds finished, I smelt something cooking; I reckon they had either cauterized an artery or one of them was starting a barbecue. It was like my entire senses were being assaulted: the bright light, the noraebang Nahuna rendition and that strange, almost acidic  barbecue smell that lingered.  I had to stretch my fingers so I could pinch my nose shut, bung my ears and cover my eyes to blot everything out.

I think I lay like that for twenty minutes and eventually, felt a numb change in what was happening. I thought they were finishing but next followed a sort of slicing sensation which was very unpleasant because although it wasn’t painful, it felt actually felt like something was being sliced. One side of my poor willy didn’t seem to have been anesthetized as much as the other and I felt every fucking stitch go in. David  had told me to expect eight stitches. The following  morning I counted 36  and on the side that didn’t feel very numb, I hissed out between clenched teeth as each one was inserted.   At one point I told them it hurt but they ignored me and just carried on singing along to the radio.

Finally, the pain stopped and I could sense I was being mopped up. I took my clammy hands off my face and sighed. Then I was able to sit up and pull my trousers up. The surgeons, lined up, smiled and bowed. In another room. I had to drop my trousers and boxers for an antibiotics shot. Out in the corridor David was sat reading. I did a little dance for him as I didn’t hurt at all, probably because my system was zinging with adrenalin. Then, we walked over to E-Matt and bought a McDonald’s which we walked home with. Was I hungry!

A common place to see boys hobbling. 미래 Urology Clinic opposite Song-So E-Mart.

The clinic has given me a list of after-care procedures which David had translated into English whilst I was being operated on. It listed things like not drinking for a week because of the antibiotics, not showering for a week, resting for a few days, etc, etc. At the bottom of the list was an amendment  in David’s handwriting, it read….

6. And you must endure not to have a wang! (Wank).

I didn’t hurt at all but throughout the evening, waited for the drugs to wear off and enter what someone had predicted would be, a ‘new world of pain.’ When my roommates arrived home we went out with them to a nearby restaurant. I wasn’t hobbling at all and even going for a piss wasn’t uncomfortable. Strangely, during the night I was worried more by the fact I didn’t hurt. Even when I awoke with an erection, it wasn’t painful and a quick poke in my ear with one of the cotton buds, I had strategically placed around my bedroom, made Mr Willy all floppy again. You wouldn’t believe how effective cotton buds in the ear are at killing an erection. One of the doctor’s had explained that poking a cotton bug in you ear-hole interrupts signals from your dick to brain and terminates any boner.

Friday 17th of August, 2001. In the morning, I was quite worried because my dick looked very ill – in fact it looked like it had received a few hefty bashes with a metal tipped steak tenderizer. There was a purple bruising and it is very swollen and it had bled a little. I wondered whether the bandage was too tight. I phoned David but couldn’t get hold of him so, at 8.45 am, I took a taxi to the clinic only to find it didn’t open until 9.30. However, my doctor was in and I told him it had been bleeding and was really swollen but he didn’t ask to look at it, though I wanted him to just to reassure me. I went back down to the urology clinic; it was open and the three surgeons who had only the day before circumcised me, were busy mopping the clinic floors. I explained to one of them, in a mixture of Korean and hand signals, that it was swollen and had been bleeding.

“Does it hurt?” He asked. “’No! No! It doesn’t hurt at all.” Then he pointed at the clock, told me they didn’t open until 9.30 and told me to sit down. I couldn’t fucking sit down, I was frantic! Every second that tight bandage was on was perhaps a second closer to me having gangrene of the knob. In the end ,I went back up to my doctor. He sat me down, gave me a cup of coffee, talked to me and soon it was 9.30 am.

Back on the slab, a surgeon checked my dick and re-bandaged it. He didn’t seem to think anything was wrong. Back in the reception area my doctor was waiting for me as he can speak fairly good English. There were three patients sitting behind me, two young women behind the receptionist’s desk, and four surgeons around me. Ten Koreans in all! Everyone was centered on our conversation – which of course, was about my dick!

“Is it okay? Is the bruising normal? Do I need to come back?” I am not in the least bit embarrassed. As I leave, all the staff smile and bow deeply. My doctor invited me up to his surgery for breakfast and there I am introduced to his mother. We ate fruit and sat talking for about two hours and as I was leaving he invited me out to dinner. At the time, my doctor had just moved into the premises and had few patients, today I have to sit in the waiting room for an hour before I can see him.

Saturday August 18th, 2001. My poor little willy didn’t hurt at all but the stitches are bloody irritating. Right now my knob resembles a cross between a French tickler – one of those funny condoms with a little ring of rubber spikes around it, and a toothbrush. It is irritating because the stitches are made from something resembling nylon and I can’t stop myself from stroking them which I’m sure I’m not supposed to be doing. If I start to get aroused I just shove a cotton bud in my ear and it goes down.

Although not sore, it is uncomfortable walking any distance as the stitches catch on my boxers so I have spent a considerable time lying down with the fan blowing on my dick. Most Koreans get circumcised in winter and I would imagine the possibility of infection is higher in a humid climate so I lie under the fan as much as possible. I have been used to showering over 5 times a day and it is very uncomfortable not being able to do so. Showering is not just a hygienic necessity, but along with wanking, is also a hobby and something I do to kill time. This is probably the same for many people. Hence, every now and then I think, Oh! I’ll have a quick wank!  or Oh! I’ll have a shower and I have to remind myself that I am not able to which is a real drag. Perhaps this is one reason why I am drawn to stroke my hedgehog-like stitches. In addition my knob has become very swollen and I now possess a member many people would pay good money to have, via silicone injections. It is a pity I won’t be able to use it until the swelling has subsided.

Tuesday 21st of August 2001. Pak Jun-hee (박준희) has been bringing me lunch for the last couple of afternoons. His mandu and kimchi, made by his wife, Sun-hee, in their restaurant, are definitely the best in Song-So. Today, he asked if he could see my operation. “You want to see it?” I ask to confirm his wish which  though I look calm, has somewhat shocked me. It would be very embarrassing to bring it out if it wasn’t. He says ‘yes’ but I ask again to make sure. So, with the mandu and kimchi on the table between us, I casually take it out and he scrutinises it. He tells me it looks sore. Then, after I have put it away he undoes his trousers and shows me his knob explaining that he never had enough foreskin to have a circumcision, at this point he is tugging at what skin is there in order to demonstrate his point. Then, for good measure, he drags a bollock from out of his boxers to show me where he had a vasectomy. Koreans! I love them!

My ‘go-ch’u chin-gu’ of 10 years, Pak Jun-hi and his wife, Sun-hee

Thursday 23rd of August, 2001. My antibiotics and pain killers ran out today and my willy is rather sore, so sore that I had to go and buy some pain killers. In the afternoon I went out to the cinema with Ji-won (박지원, his father is Jun-he). His English has improved so much since I started teaching him back in November. He told me he would be really sad when I left and that he would never forget me. It was all rather poignant. We walked around the Milano area for a while and had pat-ping-soo in a Sweet Water cafe which is just  so tacky it’s unbelievable. It was decorated in pinks and had Barbie dolls and Miss Kitty paraphernalia all over the place. After, we had a burger in Lotteria and then took the bus home  which was painful as the bumpy journey was over the construction area of what is now Daegu Subway system.

Saturday 25th of August, 2001. Saturday and my willy was even more painful than last week and it was fairly swollen. I might have had an infection and the closest I can come to describe the feeling is that my dick has been tightly bound with barbed wire. So, I headed back to the clinic with David. My God! What a fucking hideous experience, so hideous I don’t think I can actually do it justice in writing. It’s like I’ve been to a place of pain that I never want to experience again. I went back onto the couch with the same three surgeons who had originally performed the operation. They pulled it and squeezed it and at one point it felt like they had some pliers on it, but that was nothing compared to what was to follow.

“I taking out sutures now!” said one of the surgeons. All thirty-six? I thought to myself. And then they began. I cannot describe how excruciatingly painful it was and I wished they had been singing or cooking a barbecue, anything to take my mind off they pain they were inflicting. Sweat was running down my arms and face, I was cursing out loud and at one point asked them to stop. When I jerked one of them actually gave me a telling off. It was a relief when they finally applied a swab of cooling antiseptic. When I got up there was a puddle of sweat on the couch where my arse had been. When David saw me he thought I had soaked my head in water  and my hands were shaking badly. However, it was much easier walking without those infernal barbed-wire bonds.

‘Go-ch’u chin-gu,’ David (이영선)

Thursday August 30th, 2001. Thursday afternoon I did some of my jobs – paid some bills, went to see Mr Pak at the post office and then we spent the afternoon in the Han Song Plaza bathhouse. I felt a bit odd at first because my willy still looked a bit swollen and like it’s been savaged by a blunt pair of pinking scissors but no one really bothered looking and besides, with school having just started, the place was empty.

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© Nick Elwood 2010. This work is licenced under a Creative Commons Licence.

8 Responses

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  1. Joshua Cho said, on August 19, 2010 at 1:03 pm

    what an experience, man. i bet it wasn’t a pleasant one, like, at all. i guess although almost everyone’s gone thru circumcision(or at least that’s what i think is the case with Korean men), they just never mention it, even when talking to their best mates. as a teenager, kids might jokingly ask one another, like “Have you done it?”, but i think that’s about it. after that phase, they just shut themselves up when it comes to their private parts. who wants to talk about their weiners on his everyday conversation anyway? BUT i’ll say that i believe Koreans tend to be(or appear to be) more reserved as to anything sex-related.

  2. Nick said, on August 19, 2010 at 1:16 pm

    Well, many westerners wouldn’t talk about it but stuff that shouldn’t talked about, should be written about. Personally, I think such subjects offer far greater insights into a society, its culture and individuals than stuff on the Boryeong Mud Festival or some crap about Korean weather – of which I have written a few.

    One of my close friends was originally quite opposed to foreigners making observations about Korea but has gradually come to realise that we often notice things that you might take fore-granted. So don’t feel pissed off about it because, conversely, the best accounts of British/English culture are probably written by foreigners.

    ps. Koreans might be ‘reserved’ in conversation but to most westerners, getting naked in a bathhouse and touching your toes so the world can see your donut, is ‘avant garde’ at the extreme. .

  3. Uncut Jones said, on October 27, 2010 at 5:25 pm

    Sweet love of Jesus Christ, man. Percy Grainger would find that account harrowing.

    During my youth here in the states I was laughed at plenty of times, but never have I entertained the idea of someone slicing and searing my junk. Once a lover alarmed me terribly by menacing it with a thumbtack.

    Ironically, my frenulum is totally insensitive. Such is life.

    • Nick said, on October 27, 2010 at 11:40 pm

      I read your comment with amusement not because of the subject matter but because of your reference to Percy Grainger. Most people would be clueless as to his cultural legacy and even fewer aware of his bizarre sexual fascinations.

      • Uncut Jones said, on October 28, 2010 at 3:10 am

        “I read your comment with amusement not because of the subject matter…” Ouch! My powers grow dim.

        Honestly I was clueless about Grainger until just today as I worked my way back into your blog. So far I’ve made it back to your whirlwind tour of Cambodia. It’s a very agreeable blog. I shall be better prepared should I visit again.

        Incidentally my Seoul-born wife has heard 불알 친구 (spelling?), “testicle friend,” but not gochu chingu.

        You have me wishing that I’d visited the bath house. As a large, hairy, waekukin I didn’t feel up to the the scrutiny, plus I figured they’d all be looking at my luxurious back hair and wincing at the thought of it detaching into the bath water. I wouldn’t want to bathe with me.

        I’ll probably have more remarks over time.

        Since you have an interest in entomology and cicadas you might like this: http://www.arachnoid.com/prime_numbers/ . In a nutshell, the long life cycle cicadas evolved to have a cycle of 17 years, a prime number, to ensure that no predator could come to rely on them.

        Enough topics for now.

        Best wishes.

      • Nick said, on October 28, 2010 at 3:25 am

        I too have that ‘luxurious back-hair’ but can withstand bathing with me in the absence of mirrors. Jeez, waygukins are such as mess! I too have heard 불알 친구 but I have frequently heard my Korean friend refer to me as his ‘고추 친구’ while talking to friends on his mobile. Maybe it’s a Daegu-ism. Thanks for your comments.

  4. Joseph4GI said, on September 26, 2011 at 5:59 am

    Sorry, I don’t even know you, but I ran across this story and I felt I had to comment.

    You know, most of the world (about 70-80%) isn’t circumcised. Most guys do fine without it and aren’t dying of cancer. Actually, statistics show that the US has the highest rate of STD transmissions, even HIV in the industrialized world, so like most of the “benefits” are bunk.

    Knowing that you really don’t need the surgery, knowing that you’d do just fine, if you had the chance, would you decide to do the whole thing all over again? Or would you still do it anyway?

    I wonder if any Koreans ever thought to themselves “WHY do I have to do this… isn’t there a better way to prevent disease etc. that doesn’t involve cutting my dick?”

    Anyway, up front, I only really have a problem when this is done to children who can’t consent. Otherwise, this was your choice, and I respect that.

    I hope you’re feeling much better…

    ~Joseph

    • 林東哲 said, on September 28, 2011 at 1:49 am

      Joseph, I totally agree with you and think it should be illegal to perform this on any minor. Even religions should not be allowed to abuse children in this manner. Koreans don’t have it performed to prevent disease. The medical profession has taught them that all foreskins are tight and need removing and the word for circumcision actually translates as ‘phismosis surgery.’ Because I elected for the procedure does not mean I am in favour of it or think it should be forced upon infants. Thanks for the response.


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