Have you ever done something so shocking that you managed to shock even yourself?
Well, I have. It’s not that earth-shaking, mind you, although to me, it is kind of life-changing. It took me some time to write this, and even now, I am having difficulties even just starting this article because, well, I see this as practically stripping naked in public.
Kung kanus-a natigulang, ayha mag-kiniat! My husband’s exact words. I don’t know how to translate his words into English in such a way that it would convey the same impact that it has in our dialect, with all the negativism, derision, judgment, and disapproval that goes along with it.
His reaction is understandable though. I mean, where in the world can we find a husband who would be ecstatic at finding out that he now shares his wife’s heart with seven young men from South Korea who will never know that she exists?
That is my confession. At the untender age of 50, just when I was getting ready for menopause and being honorably middle-aged, eagerly awaiting the arrival of grandbabies in the next few years, I unexpectedly became a fangirl for the first time ever in my life.
I would not say that I have become a kpop-crazed mama because my boys have gone beyond mere kpop. And it’s just my boys that I stan, and no one else in that genre. I will get back to this point later.
There was a time in my life when the word kpop represented everything that is ridiculous, shallow, trivial, superficial, and ridiculous….I know, I said ridiculous already, and I can say that word again and again. These so-called idols color their hairs in every spectrum of the rainbow… Asians trying to look like Caucasians…ridiculous! And the men wear make-up, too! Que horror!
Gangnam Style, and that man who danced like a horse, initiated me into this world, and I never had a good opinion of this genre ever since. And the fans? Just hormonal teenagers turned mindless from all that screaming. My opinion in one word: baduy!
So what happened? Kdrama happened.
You see, it was 2017, and I was deep into Korean dramas, and was watching one called Hwarang, when a catchy little tune got my attention. I liked it so much that I just had to look it up. I did not know it back then, but that was the moment when my shame or salvation (depending on who is judging) began.
It was THAT VOICE singing that soundtrack which got me, the deepest, most beautiful, sultry, sensuous, soulful voice that I have ever heard in my entire life.
I just had to know who that voice belonged to. Its owner turned out to be somebody named V — a member of a kpop group called BTS.
What a shocker! I never thought that a voice like that could come from an Asian. Yes, I’m a bit of a racist against us. Looking V up, I found a young man who made me believe that God was truly happy that day He made this special person, for He created V, or Kim Taehyung, with a face that could only be called “an exquisite work of art”.
I firmly believe that he should replace Mona Lisa down at the Louvre. (Trivia: V or Kim Taehyung was named the Most Handsome Face from 2017 to 2019, beating the likes of that 50 Shades of Gray guy, in international polls, involving Hollywood and other international celebrities.)
Let me make one thing clear though, it was not because V is so handsome that I took interest in BTS. Okay. Okay. Honesty time. I may be ripely-aged but I am not blind and certainly, I know how to appreciate beauty when I see one. Good looks did play a part in my initial interest. In my defense though, this boy is so good-looking that he can make me grow my ovaries back by just looking at his face.
This interest obviously led me into checking out their music, and to my horror and dismay, my eardrums felt ravaged by all that rapping and ungodly noise. I have always said that I could appreciate any music except hiphop/rap with beats that I simply could not follow. My aging ears suffered. Theirs was not my music.
But I needed to hear that voice croon again and again. I fell in really deep. YouTube helped. I found recordings of V doing covers of English songs like those of Adele (Someone like You) and Justin Bieber. It was magic. I was in love.
It was at this time when I was introduced to another member, Jeon Jungkook. He also did covers of popular songs. His cover of Charlie Puth’s We don’t Talk anymore went viral, and even got Puth’s attention, who twitted his admiration for this relatively- unknown boy from distant Korea.
That was 2017. For close to a year, I listened only to English covers, delighting at how cute they sounded as they navigated their way around a language which they could barely speak nor understand.
My love was growing by then to include the other members. But I still could not make head nor tails of their music. If only they would not include rapping in their songs, I thought that I could grow to like them. I just knew it.
But budding fangirl that I was, I just had to love their songs, rap and all, because I had grown to know and love each individual member with their varying personalities, and all their idiosyncrasies, silliness, weaknesses, and strengths.
At this point, I had taken to playing their music as I slept. My daughter passionately hated me at that time, together with all that blasted noise (her words) that she used to wake up to in the middle of the night. I did not care. I just went ahead.
Then one day, something clicked. A melody from Spring Day suddenly sounded nice. Then Blood, Sweat and Tears was no longer that bad. Even the rap parts had rhythm I never noticed before.
I know now that it was in that instant that this middle-aged fangirl, who has chased BTS concerts and shows in Singapore, Hong Kong, and South Korea this year alone, had entered this world.
Olga the fangirl was born, a hormonal peri-menopausal, previously-sane woman turned mindless from screaming like a hormonal teenager.
This birth ushered her into another world that is as exhilarating as it is frustrating.
But for lack of space in this paper, this story will have to wait till next week.
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Author’s email: [email protected]
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