Harmony in life?.... that'll be the Nunchi.

I lived in the Republic of Korea for seven  great years from 1975 to 1982.  It was a wonderful experience and played a significant role in shaping my view of life. I quickly learned that balance and harmony are crucial in Korean culture and two concepts in particular, kibun and nunchi are vital to daily life there. Both are favorite words of mine, but have no direct equivalent in English. So here's a little about them...... 

Harmony in personal relationships is a dominant force in a Korean’s life. Facts, logic and conclusions are often not nearly as important as how one is looked upon by others. Friendships are tight-knit and valuable. It is an insult to refuse a friend’s request. It is even less forgivable to fail a superior. These friendships are possible because everyone does his or her best to preserve and foster harmony and good feelings. A Korean bearer of bad news may smile to soften the blow or a Korean may avoid giving bad news, even if he or she is merely the messenger and in no way responsible for it.

So, How's Your Kibun Then?

It is very hard for Koreans to admit failure and it is devastating to lose face in Korean culture. The directness of Westerners is thoroughly unpalatable to Koreans, whose self-esteem is always on the line. In Korea, it is of unparalleled importance to maintain kibun or the feeling of being in a comfortable state of mind.

Kibun  has no literal translation in English. However, it is a concept that permeates every facet of Korean life, it can be described in terms of pride, face, mood, or state of mind. In order to maintain a Korean’s sense of kibun, particularly in a business context, one must show the proper respect and avoid causing loss of face.

 Also,In a culture where social harmony is essential, the ability to identify another’s state of mind, often referred to as nunchi, is equally crucial to successful business. For this reason, you must be aware of subtleties in communication, observing non-verbal and indirect clues that often suggest the true sense of what is being communicated.

In Korea, breakages, mistakes or bad news may themselves not be as important as the bearing of the news, which will cause loss of face for the messenger and damaged kibun for the recipient. Bad news is rarely related early in the day. If a bad report is inescapable, the evening is a much better time to deliver it, when there is at least an overnight in which to restore kibun.

Now, let's consider the question of public reputation. In Korea, the great importance placed on kibun can mean that it is more important to exhibit the external signals of politeness than some other moral values, such as speaking the truth. A Westerner who realises that he is being lied to is apt to feel greatly offended by the rudeness of a Korean  who places kibun above honesty. The Westerner is likely to feel that he is being treated as a fool, whereas the Korean feels that he is lying graciously to preserve the Westerner's kibun. In my time we used to refer laughingly to these blind alleys as cross cultural differences.


Can you hear the Nunchi?


A Korean employer is highly likely to sack an employee on Friday afternoon and tell him that he need not come back. In this way, the employee's face will have been saved by not having to return and face his failure. That the firing comes out of the blue, may be an indication that the employee did not pick up on subtle, non-verbal clues called nunchi.

Nunchi is a wonderful concept in Korean culture that involves listening and gauging the other person’s mood – often without the help of clear signals. It is sometimes called the art of listening to what is not being said. 

 Nunchi is of central importance to the dynamics of interpersonal relationships in Korea.  With nunchi, Koreans use non-verbal cues to convey emotion and meaning through various means, including voice pitch,  volume and intonation.  Because Korean culture caters toward groups that have similar experiences and expectations,  inferences are frequently drawn and things often left unsaid. The culture does the explaining, in effect...this is nunchi

Both kibun and nunchi are very difficult concepts for  most Westerners to get a grip of. We will generally be forgiven for our ignorance of these concepts and consequent rude behaviour.  However, one gains more than one loses by trying to understand and, as much as possible, behave according to these rules of behaviour when in Korea.

Anyung hee kesayo. See ya again soon.

The Long March...Prologue

Because of my work, in the summer of 2008 I moved from Berwick upon Tweed to Cambridge. Now, East Anglia is a region of England I had visited little and knew less.

So it was by chance in the early Spring of  2009 I read about a seventy five mile long distance footpath which follows the River Stour from its birth as a tiny spring in the hills south west of Newmarket to its  broad confluent, North Sea estuary with the River Orwell between the bustling container port of Felixtowe and the ferry/cruise terminal at Harwich.

The Stour Valley Path runs near by and along one of eastern England's best-loved rivers, the Suuffolk Stour. This river Stour has been made famous by the great landscape artist John Constable through his paintings of Flatford Mill and the Haywain. Much of the local countryside is still recognisable from his time, and is now classified as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.

So, after a little research and armed with my new OS Landranger Map, I parked up in the Gog Magog Park and Ride on the outskirts of Cambridge one April Saturday morning, ignored the waiting shoppers' bus and trudged off rather stiffly along the Roman road to its meeting with the Icknield Way above the village of Linton. Then it was onwards up the Icknield Way to Newmarket, England's horse racing capital where I arrived at the start of the Stour Valley Path close by the Race Course and the splendid flying horse statue.

Thus, started the long walk downstream through the lovely rolling countryside on the borders of Suffolk and Essex to the port of Harwich some 75 miles distant .

Initially. the path climbs up away from Newmarket  through richly tended stud farms and pretty villages like Stetchworth, Great Thurlow and Kedington before swinging east down the river valley past the historic small towns of Clare, Cavendish and Long Melford.

Then skirting Sudbury the path runs across magnificent soft rolling country and the delightful village trio of  Bures, Wormingford and Nayland,  After that,  it's back along the river to Stanford St Mary and Dedham  before finally fetching up at Constable's Flatford Mill.

Leaving Flatford Mill the last section of the Stour Valley Path runs across a rather dull plain to its disappointing terminus at Cattawade near Manningtree. However, carrying on to Manningtree, I linked up with the Essex Way which meanders along the southern shore of the broadening, lovely and now tidal Stour  opposite the Shotley penninsula, before finally arriving in Harwich. A delightful final walk with great scenic views north across the river.

 Each weekend I'd followed a standard formula, parking up my car and then walking fifteen miles or so down the trail before catching a bus back to the car. If no buses were available then I'd walk a circular route down the Stour Valley Path ending up back at my car.

Completing the walk at Harwich harbour on a baking hot June Saturday afternoon I decided to relax by taking the magical little yellow foot ferry across the river to Shotley Gate and back before catching the train to Manningtree station where I had left my car earlier  that morning. The ferryman is a real character who has been criss-crossing the estuary for many years in his bright little boat and had a store of pleasantly improbable yarns to spin.


This provided some comfort zig-zagging between huge container ships and an absolutely enormous cruise liner. As the ferryman and I chatted about the river, he told me that occasionally he carried a passenger who had walked round the entire coast of East Anglia. Later, on the train back to my car, I conceived the rather whimsical notion it would be a very good idea for me to get to know the region by walking round the whole of East Anglia, roughly 300 miles, during the coming year.

So, with stout heart and optimism, the following weekend I drove to Harwich on a beautiful sunny Saturday morning and began the walk back along the Stour Valley Path towards Cambridge. A first step in the long march around East Anglia, it was July 4th, Independence Day for some.