The third sex

There are three sexes in Korean, all Koreans agree. There are men, women and ah ju mahs.

Ah ju mahs used to be women, but now, in their married, haggard states, they are unworthy of being called women. They are simply ah ju mahs.

The stories about how and why Korean women become ah ju mahs differ.

We wei gooks (foreigners) have often wondered why Korean women seem to go from beautiful, made-up ladies to decrepit, gnarled crones. The western concept of the graceful, middle-aged woman seems not to exist here. Of course, I'm speaking generally. I have seen many put-together, middle-aged women, but they're heavily overshadowed by the ah ju mahs.

Finding the testosterone

Korean girls suffer from "Princess Syndrome," my Korean teacher, Jenna, tells me. They spend their early years whining at their boyfriends and decorating their willow-slim figures in mini skirts and sky-high heels. They're high-maintenance because they're expected to be, but they're simultaneously working hard to be desirable.

Once a Korean girls snags a man and a ring, she can breathe a massive sign of relief and let herself go, both literally and figuratively, Jenna says. Their figures fill out, though they are seldom actually fat. They cut their thick, lustrous hair short and perm it because it's more convenient to style, and wardrobing goes right out the window because who has the time now that there are children, husband and home to maintain. And God knows, floral Hammer pants and slippers are more comfortable than minis and spike heels.

The way Jenna tells it, women become ah ju mahs as they find their own power and testosterone. In their new empowered state, they can avoid being subservient to the high-maintenance culture, hence the rampant throwing of elbows and shoving anyone who gets in their way.

Bending under the yoke

Un Jun tells it a little differently. She herself is desperate for a boyfriend and marriage, but hearing her talk about Korean men, one can't help but wonder why. Korean men are very bad to their women once they are married, she says. They're not nice to them anymore, and they don't pay them any attention. So these women, in turn, lose interest in maintaining themselves. A red and green plaid shirt with pink and yellow polka-dotted pants seems like a reasonable outfit if no one cares about what you look like.

Their backs bow permanently as they toil day in and day out, and their giggly, girly personalities turn rough and rude. Just the other day, I watched an ah ju mah prepare to board a subway. The very full train make its way into the station, and people waiting to board stood on either side of the doors so people inside could exit. But this ah ju mah stood dead center in front of the doors, and as they opened, she dove head first into the wall of people trying to get off. She secured her seat on the train as I remained outside dumbfounded.

It happens all the time. Being poked, prodded, jostled and shoved by ah ju mahs is just part of daily life here in Korea. "Excuse me" is not part of the vernacular, but I've gotten to the point where I can laugh at most of it. I'm still perplexed by how they seem to shrink about six inches during the transformation from woman to ah ju mah. I can't help but pity the metamorphoses. God bless the ah ju mah.