The video begins with the host whispering an apology for the camera settings — in particular, how the sharpness makes her nose seem super shiny. For the next hour, she says almost nothing else besides barely audible introductions. Instead, she takes her audience through a series of eight sounds selected to help listeners sleep, from the surprisingly soothing crinkle of latex gloves to the relaxing rubbing of a small cotton pillow. If you weren’t feeling sleepy before the video, you certainly are by its end — not from boredom, but from the pure pleasure of it all, the experience amounting to an auditory massage of the mind.

Dana ASMR is one of the most popular Korean producers of ASMR videos on YouTube. Her “8 Triggers to Help you Sleep” has garnered over 6 million views and over 4,700 comments at the time of writing. Her videos, mostly in Korean, but with some in English, share with audiences the ambient sounds of many of life’s experiences, be it eating, getting your ears cleaned or playing with multicolored slime. All aim to relax the listener, to “trigger” a tangible sense of relaxation and joy, a “tingle” that soothes life’s stresses and unplugs us, if for just a moment, from the pressures of the day.

ASMR, or autonomous sensory meridian response, has taken Korea by storm. ASMR is a sensation described as a pleasurable tingling sensation that begins at the head and moves down to your upper spine, often triggered by particular sounds, though sights and other sensory stimuli sometimes do the trick, too. In a country as overworked, over-connected and chronically sleep deprived as Korea, many see ASMR-related content as an expedient way to relax, to give their brains a much needed break. Though largely a new media phenomenon, it’s not just YouTubers who are riding the ASMR wave. Traditional media such as television and even advertisers are catching on, too, integrating ASMR elements into their productions, too.

The tingle of euphoria

Cybersecurity expert Jennifer Allen coined the term ASMR back in 2010, giving an official — or official-sounding — name to an experience observers had previously called “head orgasms,” “head tingles” and “attention-induced euphoria,” among other terms. The Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response Group, founded by Allen in 2010, defines ASMR as “a pleasant, often intense tingling sensation that begins in the head and travels down the body to varying extents. It is often accompanied by a euphoric feeling, and can overwhelm the experiencer of a particularly strong ASMR event.”

Though you can experience this sensation through uncontrolled external stimulus, you can also initiate it through conscious thought triggers, the most common being ASMR-inducing videos on YouTube.

Not everyone experiences ASMR, and what sets it off in those who do is as diverse as the ocean is wide. As Harry Cheadle writes in VICE, “It’s not usually sexual — everyone who talked to me about ASMR mentioned that right off the bat — but like sexual turn-ons, different people have different things that set them off: the sound of lips smacking together, a cashier’s fake nails tapping on the register, your friend drawing on your hand with a marker.”

Though scientific research on this pop culture phenomenon is but in its infancy, early research is turning up some interesting possibilities. “Neuroscientists are now experimenting with fMRIs and electroencephalography to see if the brains of ‘tingleheads,’ as they are called, are any different than those who don’t tremble at the sight of napkin-folding,” writes Libby Copeland at Smithsonian.com. “So far there are intriguing — if limited — findings suggesting that ASMR may relieve some people’s symptoms of stress and insomnia, and that the brains of those who experience it may be organized a little differently.”

In fact, some researchers posit that ASMR may be related to, or at least similar to, synesthesia, a condition in which people process sensory information in an unusual way, seeing colors in letters or numbers or tasting shapes. A University of Winnipeg study suggested those who experience ASMR are more likely to be creative, though also more prone to anxiety and mood swings.

From ear cleaning to mukbang

Video maker Miniyu helped pioneer ASMR in Korea when she opened up the country’s first ASMR-related YouTube channel in 2013. She now operates three channels with over 800 videos, some of which have been subtitled into English or Japanese. Her most popular channel, “Miniyu ASMR,” has over 460,000 subscribers. She has something for just about everyone, her videos running the gamut from tapping and scratching sounds to eating and “role play” videos. Her most popular video, a role play video in which she pretends to give the listener an ear cleaning, has been viewed nearly 4 million times.

ASMR has been especially big in the world of mukbang, videos in which the host or hosts binge eat to the audience’s delight. ASMR-focused mukbang videos contain very little talking. Instead, they focus on “eating sounds,” i.e., the sounds of biting, chewing and swallowing. For many people, this apparently gets the ASMR engines revving. Check out the YouTube channel of ASMR Suna, one of Korea’s hottest mukbang producers, to get a feel for the genre. Suna’s most popular video features her pet mini pig eating its way through, among other things, a watermelon slice. It’s been watched over 8.7 million times.

©Miniyu ASMR

©Miniyu ASMR

As ASMR catches on in YouTube and social media, more traditional media are integrating it into their programming, too. In the third season of tvN’s popular mukbang-themed program “Let’s Eat,” the characters spend an inordinate amount of on-screen time just eating with nary a word said. Channel A’s talent show “I’ll Give You the Universe” splices in relaxing, minimally shot scenes of the contestants enjoying the sounds of nature. In another example, tvN’s reality show “Little House In The Forest,” which features two celebrities living a off-grid in a cabin in the forest, is light on conversation and heavy on ambient sound, so much so that the show is seen as an extended mediation on ASMR itself.

Even advertisers are getting in on the act. Cosmetic brand Innisfree’s “I Use Hallan” campaign, a pair of commercials staring entertainer Hong Jin-kyung and Girl’s Generation member Yoona, focus on the relaxing sounds of the winter’s wind, a scribbling pencil, chirping birds, writing notes on a frosted window and, of course, makeup being applied. Foodstuff maker Pulmuone has also released an ASMR video of its own featuring webtoon illustrator Kim Sung preparing and eating a steaming bowl of yukgaejang kalguksu.

A remedy for a stressed-out, sleep-deprived society?

Observers say the interest in and demand for ASMR-related content is driven by the desire for less stimulation. In a world where social media, the 24-hour news cycle, Netflix and thousands of cable channels keep us perpetually stressed and stimulated, people are growing ever more desperate for ways to unplug. A 2016 survey by the OECD revealed that Koreans sleep just seven hours and 41 minutes a day on average, the fewest hours in the organization. It’s unsurprising, then, that poll after poll reveals that an overwhelming majority of Korean workers either suffer from or have experienced burnout syndrome, a condition characterized by exhaustion, job alienation and reduced performance.

Kim Heon-sik, a cultural critic, told the Herald Gyeongje daily, “Many phenomena arise from exhaustion.” He added, “I think there’s a lot of demand for ASMR-related content because people are exhausted from information. People are too tired. Isn’t there too much information and too much to do? This being the case, I wonder if it doesn’t create motivation to consume content that transmits no information and requires no analysis.”

Relatedly, you can also link ASMR to the so-called sohwakhaeng trend. The portmanteau, first coined by Japanese writer Murakami Haruki, means “small but certain happiness.” It points to the tiny pleasures that brighten your day, such as a refreshing summer breeze or a good cup of coffee. By giving sleep-deprived, “time-poor” people a chance to unwind, if but just for a few moments, ASMR brings a bit of simple happiness.

Written by Robert Koehler

The locals are feeling restless.

Bukchon has a reputation as a bucolic, quiet area of Seoul. Its narrow streets and alleys are filled with pretty little Korean-style houses, turning the hillside into a sea of tile roofs. It’s exactly the kind of scenery many tourists are looking for when the visit Seoul, an area of calm and tradition amidst the glittering and modern buzz of the metropolis. The mood of the local landlords and residents isn’t nearly as charmed, though.

© Yonhap News

On May 19, local residents gathered in Bukchon to protest the influx of tourists to their neighborhood, just as they have done every Saturday since April. Some held signs reading, “We want our weekend back,” “We’re just moneymakers for Seoul” and “Listen to our voice.” Demanding the city designate Bukchon a restricted zone, they expressed anger at how tourism was making their community unlivable. “More than 300,000 tourists visit our residential area every month. They make noise, smoke, throw out garbage and even urinate in the street,” one protester said in a statement reported in the Korea Times. “We repeatedly asked the government to solve the problem, but little has changed so far.”

The term “overtourism” was coined in Europe only in 2016, but Bukchon residents are already familiar with the concept. Over the past few years, tourism has increased from a trickle to a flood of visitors, both domestic and international. On an average day, tour buses disengorge thousands of people to walk through the Hanok-lined streets, taking photos and enjoying the views from the hillside. A study by Seoul Metropolitan Government conducted between October 2016 and June 2017 revealed that an average of 10,000 tourists visit Bukchon a day, 70 percent of them foreigners, 10 percent visiting before 6 a.m.

© Yonhap News

The massive inflow of visitors has turned the neighborhood into less of a quaint village than a bustling tourist trap, complete with vendors selling cheap knicknacks, overflowing trash piles and loud chatter in a dozen languages. While some people are happy to see the tourists, others worry about the noise, trash and impact on local infrastructure. Some are so worried, in fact, that they are leaving entirely. According to the city, the population of Bukchon fell over 16 percent between 2012 and 2017.

“The neighborhood is really divided among people who want more development and people who don’t,” says one resident. “Some of us moved here a long time ago because we were looking for someplace quiet to live. That’s why I came here. But now it’s so noisy, especially on the weekends, that we’re considering moving.”

More money, more tourists, more problems

Overtourism is a growing problem in many parts of the world, as more and more people reach income levels that make international travel possible, at the same time that other markers of middle-class life become more difficult to achieve. Younger people in developed countries like the U.S. and Australia often feel unable to invest in things like real estate, and instead have shifted their spending to more achievable experiences, like travel. And in other parts of the world, newly developing wealth in the middle classes makes international travel a new status marker, something previously only available to the wealthy in places like India and China. As more travelers arrive, so does the need for places to stay, restaurants for them to eat in, and myriad other infrastructure issues that often overwhelm what is already in place. Some measures meant to help alleviate problems end up making them even worse — “sharing economy” home rentals started as a way for local people to earn money by renting out spare rooms to visitors, but have ended up contributing to rising rents in residential areas, pricing people out of homes in places from Seattle to Casablanca.

The problem is international in scope, with one of the most famous cases literally sinking under the weight of boatloads of tourists. Venice in particular has been hard hit by huge increases in international travel, much of it via cruise ships. These gigantic floating cities have become a major headache for Venetians, who complain that the cruise ships gobble up local resources, pollute the waters and contribute to the city’s slow sink into the lagoon in which it sits. Compounding the problem, most of the cruise ships don’t contribute much to the local economy, as the tourists they bring disembark for day tours run by the cruise lines, depriving local guides of work, keeping their tourist dollars on the ship instead of circulating in the local economy.

© Yonhap News

Protestors form a human chain during a protest against tourism in Barcelona. © Yonhap News

Tour groups in Korea have been blamed for much the same behavior. Coach tours take visitors all around Seoul and the rest of the country, disgorge people for a very brief visit to a tourist site or shopping, and then rush off to the next spot. “Travel agencies attract Chinese tour groups through cheap ‘dumping tactics,’ taking them to the duty-free shop to make up for the losses and then setting the tourists loose the last day in Bukchon Village, which doesn’t cost anything,” said Korea Tourist Guide Association Secretary General Kim Gang-yeol to the Hankyoreh daily.

Tourism, even overtourism, isn’t thought of as a problem by everyone in Bukchon. Rents have gone up substantially, and more tourism development would likely increase profits further. And as some residents depart for quieter pastures, there’s more space available for businesses.

The more shopping and dining there is, the more people who come to enjoy the area. Some Bukchon merchants who depend on the tourism decry the tensions between locals and tourists. A Ms. Lee, who has operated a tourist facility in Bukchon for close to 20 years, told Yonhap News Agency, “If you tell tourists not to come to Bukchon, it’s starving to death the people who do business here. It’s clear that tourism has raised the value of Bukchon, so I can’t understand [how some residents] are unconditionally refusing tourists with no thought of coexistence.”

Still, the more people who come to enjoy, the less some residents feel welcome in their own homes. Multilingual signs are posted throughout the area, asking visitors to remember that it is a residential area, with reminders to not litter or smoke, and keep voices down. Some even have request that people avoid singing loudly, an oddly specific complaint, but one the locals insist is a real problem.

“It used to be you could live pretty comfortably around here. It was quiet, there was a mix of different kinds of housing, and it had a real neighborhood feel,” said a former resident. “But if I lived there again, where would I shop? It’s not like the businesses there are for the people who live there. If I needed to buy some milk or vegetables, where am I going to go? There’s nothing but boutiques and mini marts.”

Jeju, island of love and foreign investment

But the area most plagued by overtourism isn’t necessarily in Seoul at all. Jeju Island, once a mostly rural area of fishing villages and citrus farming, was once barely touched by any tourism except local honeymooners. Before the liberalization of travel for the average Korean, people who couldn’t leave the country would head instead to the semitropical southernmost island. But the beginnings of international travel for Koreans didn’t mean the island fell off the tourist path — instead, it’s become one of the most heavily visited parts of Korea. It’s not just domestic travel, although many Koreans favor it for short trips. Instead, it’s been turned into a visa-free zone where international tourists from 180 different countries can enter by any of the 150,000 some-odd flights per year. Sixteen countries now have direct flights to the island, bypassing Incheon International Airport. For those who do arrive via Incheon, they travel what is now the world’s most heavily trafficked air route, the short 450 kilometer hop traveled by more than 10 million people each year.

© Yonhap News

Jeju’s attractions go beyond the ease of coming from abroad, with a unique volcanic landscape, attractive beaches and mild weather. Many international visitors, especially from China, do more than visit though. There’s been a huge uptick in people from abroad buying up land on the island, driving up prices and making it difficult for locals to keep up. Thousands of tourists can show up at the same time to visit some of the country’s most environmentally delicate areas.

Tour groups from China in particular have come under fire, with many Koreans feeling that the tour guides do little to help guests understand the local culture and customs in favor of making maximum profits via what amount to extended shopping visits. Conflicts have become regular features on local and even national news, contributing to anti-foreigner sentiments.

Chinese aren’t alone in annoying the locals, however. Mainlanders have done much to irk islanders, too. In famously gentrified Woljeong-ri, a coastal village on Jeju’s northeast coast, bars, cafés and guest houses line the entire beach. Many of these businesses are run by transplants from the mainland and target mainland tourists. Over the last three years, real estate prices have skyrocketed 11 fold. One elderly local who rented land to farm in the area complained to the Hankyoreh 21 magazine, “The rise in real estate prices is good for people with land, but for people like us, there’s nothing good about it.” An elderly local woman who lives in the village told the magazine, “It was nice when we lived quietly among ourselves. The tourists toss their bottles, cans and cigarette butts anywhere. Outsiders occupy everything here. We’re not even treated like Woljeong-ri people now.”

There is no easy solution to overtourism. Seoul, Jeju and other places are working on ways to help locals thrive alongside visitors and help tourist engage in more positive, culturally enriching encounters, while also improving infrastructure to help local areas deal with the influx. But solutions may be a long way off, and it could take years to bring enough resources in to help areas like Bukchon and Jeju cope with the huge numbers of tourists. Until then, the signs will stay up and the tensions remain as the coach tours continue to arrive.

Being a Good Tourist

Though some aspects of the Bukchon tourism issue will need to be solved at the public policy level, there are some things tourists can do themselves to lessen their impact on locals.

• The city has limited tourism hours in the Bukchon-ro 11-gil area to 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., Monday to Saturday. Tourists should stay away on Sunday, which has been designated an “alleyway rest day.” Granted, these designations lack enforcement mechanisms, and according to at least one local report, few seem to be following them, but still, that’s the policy, and it’s best to follow it.
• Keep your voice down and respect the locals’ privacy. That means don’t enter people’s homes without permission, don’t use your selfie stick to photograph inside people’s homes and don’t photograph people without their permission. Don’t loiter in front of the gates of homes, either. In fact, if you’re in a large group, don’t loiter on the sidewalk — this annoys locals to no end.
• When you can, shop and dine at local establishments. Group tours not only pass such places up, but even drive away the locals and individuals tourists on whom such establishments depend.
• Don’t smoke. Not only is this a fire hazard in a historical preservation zone full of old wooden buildings, but the smell of the smoke gets into people’s homes, too.
• How about giving an alternative destination a try? Seoul’s a big city with plenty of interesting neighborhoods. Why not check out one to which you’ve never been?

Written by Jennifer Flinn

Any young Korean who has tried to serve pasta to their grandparents knows how the older generation prefers to eat their spaghetti as a side dish to rice. Meanwhile, a mother might scold her teenage son for his eating habits, saying, “You told me you had lunch, but you only ate bread!” As the word for rice, bap, is nearly synonymous with “food,” the significance of rice in society cannot be overstated. It’s so important, in fact, that the greeting “Did you eat bap?” is as common as “How are you?”

While the steady supply of rice over the last several decades may have made it possible for young people to take their rice for granted, we are now seeing a revived interest in this favorite cereal. Home-style restaurants that promote rice as their main feature are popping up all over the country, and more and more people are switching over from plain white rice to brown rice and white rice mixed with nutritious grains. This is about more than culinary trends or health fads. Indeed, Korea’s changing perception of rice is tied to its growing economic power and its national self-identity.

White rice versus multigrain rice

Rice has been a dietary staple, a measurement of wealth and an important cultural item since the Neolithic era. Some scholars say rice may have been introduced to the central region of the Korean Peninsula as early as the third millennium B.C. Cultivation later expanded to regions further south, where techniques improved. Full-scale rice farming began during the Bronze Age.

For much of Korea’s history, there have been units of measurement related to rice. For instance, a majigi — approximately half an acre — is the amount of land that can be sowed with a bushel of seed.

Only the privileged could afford to eat white rice at every meal. Commoners substituted or mixed white rice with grains such as barley, sorghum and millet. Two working-class examples are multigrain rice, or japgokbap, made with barley, black rice, brown rice, green peas and short grain rice, and five grain rice, or ogokbap, a mixture of glutinous rice, black beans, African millet and sweet red beans.

A national symbol in a new world

Although rice has been a national symbol for ages, it wasn’t until the 1960s that rice became commonly available and until even more recently that consumers could be choosy about the rice they purchase. During the colonial era, the imperial authorities promoted modern farming, increasing rice yields. Much of the harvest, however, was taken to Japan, forcing Koreans to resort to grain substitutes. Rice shortages were rampant during World War II and throughout the Korean War.

After independence, the newly founded Korean government discouraged rice-heavy diets, promoting instead the introduction of wheat bread into the diet. During the mid-1980s, foreign goods flooded the country, especially leading up to the 1988 Summer Olympics in Seoul. In her 2015 book, “Re-orienting Cuisine,” Kim Kwang-ok notes that some intellectuals, displeased by the drastic changes in the foodscape, began engaging in activism to protect and preserve “national foods,” one of which was rice. Nevertheless, ever more pervasive Western fast food chains such as McDonalds and KFC and “family restaurants” such as T.G.I. Friday’s and Coco’s challenged the primacy of the traditional rice-centric diet.

Falling numbers, rising interest

Though it may seem counterintuitive, the story of rice’s rebound begins with falling rice consumption. According to the national statistical office, Statistics Korea, rice consumption per capita hit a fresh new low in January of 2016. Per capita rice consumption fell from 130.1 kilograms in 1984 to 104.9 kilograms in 1996 and only 61.9 kilograms in 2016.

On the surface, this might lead one to believe that interest in rice is declining in favor of bread and other Western foods. Experts and analysts believe, however, that people are finding new ways to consume their rice, even if they are reducing their rice intake overall. Moreover, rice surpluses over the years have encouraged companies to find new and creative ways to use available rice. At the same time, people are diversifying their diets with alternatives to rice such as wheat, barley, beans and corn.

Grains for gains

It may seem ironic that as the nation grows ever more prosperous, Koreans increasingly value the common man’s rice. Dr. Lee Haeng-shin’s 2013 book, “South Korea’s Entry to the Global Food Economy,” confirms that while white rice is on the decline, the intake of whole grains has been on the rise. The article, which studies the shifts in consumption of foods between 1998 and 2009 based on data from the Korea National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey, finds that the proportion of the population consuming whole grains doubled from 24 percent to 46.3 percent. Likewise, consumption of whole grains doubled over the same period.

While it is easy to observe the increasing sales of multigrain rice, the question of why rice and why now is not quite as straightforward. The revival of grain-heavy rice is inevitably tied to the healthy living trend, the so-called “wellbeing” trend that dominated the country between 2006 and 2011. In a 2011 Korean article entitled “White Rice Loses and Multi-Grain Rice Comes Ahead,” the business paper Money Today notes an increase in sales of brown rice, or hyeonmi, on the online shopping mall G-Market.

Sintoburi

In “Re-orienting Cuisine,” Kim theorizes that changes in rice patterns — or for that matter, the recent renaissance of culinary cuisine in Korea — can be interpreted as a manifestation of the Buddhist philosophy of sintoburi. Translated as “body and earth are one,” sintoburi asserts, as Kim explains, that “health is maintained only when human physiology maintains harmony with food, which is produced by the water, soil, air, wind and sunshine in the land where the person lives.”

Kim also suggests that with Korea being a crossroads between increasing nationalism and growing Westernization, people are rediscovering the past, even on the dinner table. “Along with growing nationalistic fever, these movements earned popular acclaim as a form of resistance against the modernization,” she says. “Eating rice, grains and vegetables … came into fashion among the middle class. Foods once rejected as backwards by Koreans due to Western distaste have been re-embraced due to advances in both food science and cultural nationalism.”

Revival of native rice species

As people take renewed joy in eating rice, farmers are rediscovering Korea’s indigenous species of rice.

Up until the end of Joseon, Korea boasted a multitude of local variants of rice. A survey conducted by the Japanese at the start of the colonial era revealed no fewer than 1,451 species of rice. Most of these disappeared during the first half of the 20th century, however, when the imperial authorities introduced rice species from Japan in a bid to boost yields to exploit. The introduction in the 1970s of so-called Tongil Rice, a disease-resistant breed with high yields, greatly helped alleviate rural poverty, but it also pushed aside many of the indigenous breeds that had managed somehow to survive the colonial era.

A handful of farmers, however, have begun efforts to save indigenous breeds of rice. In a small town just west of Seoul, for instance, Lee Geun Yi of WooBo Farm cultivates a variety of indigenous species of rice, including four breeds that were served during the state dinner held during U.S. President Donald Trump’s visit to Korea in November. The National Agrobiodiversity Center stores seeds for about 350 indigenous breeds of rice.

Raising indigenous rice isn’t easy work, though. Though local breeds possess a wild beauty, they are also remarkably resistant to mechanized agriculture. Put a mechanized planter or harvester in a field of indigenous rice, and it’s likely to get tangled up. This makes cultivating indigenous rice a time-consuming labor of love.

Alternative uses for rice

As rice surpluses have skyrocketed, government agencies as well as big business have been exploring ways to capitalize on leftover rice. In 2010, the Korean government gave stockpiles of rice to food companies, encouraging them to make rice-based products such as Korean snacks, bread, noodles, makgeolli, beer and other types of alcohol. Industry leaders such as CJ Cheiljedang, Nongshim, Pulmuone and Orion played a large part in developing these goods. Jang Jae-gu, a manager of the public relations division of Nongshim, told the English language daily Korea Herald, “The company saw vast potential in rice, as it is symbolic of ‘health’ and ‘nutrition’ for the nation.”

Alcohol has been one of the biggest targets of investments for rice surplus. There has even been a movement for “pure, chemical free” makgeolli as exemplified by brands such as Slow Village and Boksoondoga in recent years.

Alternative uses for rice have not been limited to food and dining. Even makeup companies such as Skinfood have been jumping on the bandwagon with their rice-based facemasks. In autumn of 2017, Artspace Boan 1942 held an exhibition entitled “To Eat as an Art, Ssal” that examined traditional rice through contemporary art installations, video art, talks and seminars. The exhibition explored how the life of rice intertwines with our own, pondering the traditional role rice plays in our world.

The future of rice

The future of rice is hard to predict. Over the past year or two, the trend of mixing into rice superfoods such as lentils and quinoa has increased the availability of Western grains in Korean supermarkets. While rice consumption is predicted to decline even further over the next decade, the current mood indicates that the traditional bowl of rice, while changing, won’t be disappearing anytime soon.

Written by Hahna Yoon

LP collecting has come back into fashion, helped along by online communities.

Kim Woo-chan has a collection of 10,000 LP vinyl records he has been collecting since his teenage years. The 56-year-old marketer wanted to share the analog experience of listening to old Western pop songs on a turntable. He started having friends over to listen to vinyl recordings, and then organized gatherings with others of his age through the Seoul government-run 50 Plus Foundation that assists 50-something Seoul residents in employment and life.

“I also wanted to share interesting episodes and stories related to each song. That’s how the ‘Stories in Pop Songs’ class started,” said Kim. “And around that time, Shareus contacted me.”

Shareus is a young Seoul-based start-up launched last year, running the online skill-sharing platform See:Near that allows people like Kim to sign up to share their skills and knowledge with anyone whose interests match. The service is one of the emerging talent-sharing online platforms in Korea connecting people to teach and learn.

A new market in the sharing economy has emerged. What’s next for the sharing economy, which evolved from accommodation and ride sharing to co-working and co-housing space, is skill-sharing.

Key sectors in the sharing economy have grown to rival traditional counterparts. The number of Airbnb guests totaled 155 million in 2014 with the average number guests totalling 425,000 per night. It’s nearly 22 percent more than the number of guests staying at Hilton Worldwide hotel chains annually, according to the 2015 report on the growth of sharing economy by the consulting group PwC. The report also estimates that some major sharing sectors such as travel, car sharing, finance, staffing, and music and video streaming, would grow in revenue from $15 billion in 2013 to $335 billion by 2025.

An emerging trend in sharing economy

The birth of skill-sharing platforms is a testament to the flourishing sharing economy. In 2016, the world saw the emergence of knowledge and talent sharing platforms such as Skillshare. The US-based online learning platform offers more than 20,000 online classes ranging from cooking to programming available at $12 a month. It lets anyone with skills host classes and invite anyone who is interested in learning them. The start-up, founded in 2010, raised $12 million in venture capital in 2016.

Frip is the frontrunner in the sector in Korea. Launched in 2013, the company connects some 3,000 tutors, called hosts within the service, with 6,900 participants a month in a variety of outdoor and indoor activities. The service started attracting sports enthusiasts with class offerings from hiking, kayaking and indoor climbing to Zumba dancing. It recently expanded to include non-sports classes such as make-up lessons, writing sessions and financial investment courses. It boasts some 400,000 registered members as of May, a figure that surged by 231 percent since the second quarter of last year, according to the company.

Soomgo, founded in 2015, seeks to “revolutionize” service industries by helping people find “hidden talent” in areas where they need experts’ help. It matches people with the need to learn subjects such as English, Chinese, mathematics or music composition with tutors in their talent pool. For a customized match, the service asks each user detailed questions before pairing them with just the right tutor. For example, an English-language learner will be asked about their current English level, which components of the language they need to focus on, and their purpose for learning specific aspects of the language.

Another newbie, Taling, launched in February 2016, offers some 4,700 classes in more than 150 categories, including Photoshop editing, crash courses in Microsoft Excel and PowerPoint, Chinese language, drawing, calligraphy and piano lessons. Under the slogan of “connecting every talent in the world,” it has seen a big increase in the number of users, climbing to 54,000 users in April from 6,000 a year earlier.

Airbnb has been a leader in the sharing economy, allowing owners of properties such as the Youngrakjae in Seochon to rent to guests.

Make your life more fun

Frip’s founder Lim Su-yeol’s search for fun in life became a basis for what Frip is now today.

Lim thought Korean lives lacked fun and ways to relieve stress. Finding that a majority of Koreans spent their spare time drinking or playing computer games, he thought they should be offered more options for hobbies. As part of the personal quest to find a solution, he recruited people who would join him on a snorkeling trip to the east coast. “If people could enjoy their spare time, wouldn’t it upgrade their quality of life as well?” Lim said in a recent interview with Venture Square.

Taling started with a similar idea by its CEO. The founder wanted to do something productive rather than idling on a couch staring at a smartphone screen. Then a student at Korea University, he uploaded posts telling people to join him in his fitness and workout sessions.

Such initiatives fall in line with how the US-based online learning platform Skillshare was born. Its CEO and co-founder Michael Karnjanaprakorn, who was also the world champion poker player, thought he could teach his poker skills to others before he turned it into a business.

While classes at Skillshare are available online, Korean skill-sharing platforms encourage face-to-face interaction with most classes taking place offline. Such interaction responds to the collectivity and emphasis on community that run deep in the Korean culture. Efforts are still made to keep people engaged with their neighbors and friends on a community level.

The Seoul Housing and Communities Corporation and the Seoul-based Hope Institute have launched a program to breathe a sharing spirit into apartment complexes where life becomes increasingly isolating with lack of human interaction.

The initiative called “Creating a Happy Apartment Community” encourages residents to share their skills with neighbors. Several apartment blocks in Seoul are participating in the initiative, inviting residents to meet their neighbors and find out their skills and interests. Classes created include how to make a good gimbap, a Korean rice roll with veggies how to make handmade organic cosmetics and how to play traditional Korean games.

Finding life opportunities

Some people discover life opportunities while unlocking their hidden talents, while others find meaningful ways to spend their retirement years.

Moon Ye-ram has been teaching makeup skills at Taling since February of last year.

“I was trying several things at the time. My major was acting so I was preparing for auditions,” said Moon. “Then I thought I could start doing something new using what I have always been good at.”

She has been skilled at applying makeup since middle school, but she never thought about making it more than a hobby. She didn’t have any credentials or an established career that would prove her makeup skills. Then her friend tagged her name in a Facebook post recruiting people with makeup skills. That’s how she began a new career as a makeup specialist. While teaching people via the skill-sharing service, she studied for a certificate in makeup to be officially licensed as a makeup artist.

“Now teaching at Taling takes 80 percent of my work time,” said Moon. She offers make-up lessons to people varied in age and professions. Her students are mostly young office workers in their late 20s and early 30s, but she also met unique students, like a teenage daughter and her mother.

Teaching opportunities come as a good option for retirees to prepare for their life after retirement.

Kim Woo-chan has met seniors in his music class who are concerned with their life ahead. “I met a gentleman who retired as the branch manager of a bank. Retirees are going through the moment of looking back their career and feeling uncertain how to respond to their present situation,” said Kim.

“I would like to say sharing your expertise built during your professional career or any skills developed as a hobby can be a nice way to prepare for your life after retirement.”

Local residents of an apartment complex in Geumcheon-gu get together to raise cabbage on the roof.
They will later turn the cabbage into kimchi, which they will distribute to those in need.

Accessible lifelong learning

Korea abounds with private academies, called hagwon, which play an indispensable part in the lives of people coping with the competitive education system. People devote so much energy and time at hagwon during school years that the very thought of them can become a psychological burden.

Lifelong learning is a necessity, though. Experts say continuing education enriches life by helping a learner cope with the fast-changing world, bringing higher paychecks and broadening job opportunities. Most of working professionals, however, are hesitant to devote time from their busy schedules to learning something new.

“I think we are in a transitional period between traditional school education and the need to learn new skills for a professional career in this fast-changing world,” said Lee Byung-hoon, CEO of Shareus. “That’s why people keep looking for ways to learn.”

The online learning platforms emerged when people begin to embrace all forms of learning. The businesses have found a niche in the Korean education sector as a substitution for hagwon. Within a short period of time, the skill-sharing services have been able to offer an effortless way to continue learning without burdening already busy lives.

Choi A-reum, a 26-year-old office worker, wanted to learn how to invest. But she didn’t know how to invest her monthly paycheck other than putting it in a savings account with a low-interest rate.

She said, “I always thought of the stock market as a gamble. But I decided to give it a try.”

She looked for stock investment classes at hagwon, but couldn’t find one that could accommodate her busy work life. She said, “It was hard to find a class available during weekday evenings and I didn’t want to travel far for class after work or attend on weekends when I need to rest.”

Her colleagues recommended she take a stock investment beginner’s course at Taling. The class, conducted by a young financial expert at a rented study space in the Gangnam area, suited her needs in every way.

“It’s close to where I work. The class was so fun with the tutor’s easy explanation,” she said. “Now I understand what business newspapers are saying.”

Starting with a small sum of KRW 50,000, she recently made an investment of KRW 500,000 in the stock market.

CEO Lee of Shareus said participants could also get life lessons from his senior tutors.

“I would like to offer seniors’ wisdom to people,” said Lee.

Lee recruits tutors over 50 years old with rich life experiences and expertise. Shareus offers unique courses such as personality tests, Chinese Astrology and calligraphy. Lee believes that retirees are equipped with not only expertise in their fields, but also with insights into life.

The idea took off from Lee’s personal concerns with career and life. Having worked at an IT company for 17 years, Lee felt anxious about having to find a way to take his career to the next level. He felt talking to someone older than him helped reduce the anxiety he felt towards the future.

“What they have is life experience. We have a tutor who teaches calligraphy. She studied painting in college, then immigrated to Argentina to do a fashion business and returned to Korea later in life. She now teaches calligraphy with us. Her calligraphy lessons offer more than just ways to do stylistic writing,” he said.

Some senior tutors take more effort in guiding their students in their search for an answer to their life. A tutor who runs a personality test helped one of her participants resolve an issue with his social skills.

“She devoted an hour to consulting her student even after the class,” said Lee. “Usually young people are reluctant to talk to seniors because of a generation gap. But sometimes, the life we experience is not so much different.”

Lee said he would continue to keep the classes in small numbers so that tutors and students can create valuable exchanges. Lifelong learning may continue as long as we are engaged with those around us.

Written by Lee Woo-young

Young entrepreneurs use old buildings to
give Seoul new life

“Dull, inert cities, it is true, do contain the seeds of their own destruction and little else. But lively, diverse, intense cities contain the seeds of their own regeneration, with energy enough to carry over for problems and needs outside themselves.”
– Jane Jacobs, “The Death and Life of Great American Cities”

Jane Jacobs, one of the greatest theorists on cities of the 20th century, never visited Seoul, but the city’s energy and intensity would no doubt have impressed her. She likely would have written about the narrow streets and alleys full of pedestrians in the historic center of the city, the sound of children playing coming from playgrounds in vast apartment complexes and the laughter coming from groups of friends and co-workers on a busy Friday night. She would also have noted the many examples of the creative regeneration of old things that gives Seoul its unique vibe.
Regeneration is a dynamic concept that allows for the creative updating of old things to new uses and sensibilities. Preservation is more static because it focuses on preserving old things authentically as a window on the past. Museums and famous buildings are the best example of the emphasis on authenticity in preserving historical treasures. Regeneration, by contrast, focuses on how old, new and in-between work together to create something new and unique. Jane Jacobs preferred regeneration because it implies people taking control of the city to define it on their terms. For Jacobs, people were central to the life of a city.

Café Yeon reminds visitors of what Samcheong-dong used to be like.

A recent history of old things

To understand regeneration in Seoul, we need to look at the recent history of old things in South Korea. Japanese colonial rule (1910–45) and the Korean War (1950–53) left South Korea impoverished and the future looked bleak. To overcome the situation, Korea adopted economic reforms in the 1960s that put it on the path of industrialization and export-led growth. The economy boomed, and Korea transformed itself into an urbanized industrial power in a generation. Democratization in 1987 and continued economic growth propelled it into the select group of advanced democracies by the 2000s.
The upheavals of the 20th century, however, were not kind to old things. During the dark years of colonial rule and war, people focused on survival. As the economy boomed, they focused on keeping up with the unrelenting pace of change. In the rush to build a better life, people looked forward and, except for a few famous cultural relics, they did not value old things. To some, old things were a reminder of a past from which they wanted to escape; to others, they were obstacles that got in the way of progress.
Things began to change in the 2000s as Korea became a wealthy democracy. In the 1990s, Koreans began traveling overseas in large numbers and many were impressed by the wealth of historic sites and streetscapes in places like Paris and London. In the 2000s, the first generation to grow up in a democratic and increasingly wealthy country came of age. This generation, now moving into their mid-30s, combines an outward looking confidence with a desire for a higher quality of life. It is also the first generation to grow up in the generic built environments devoid of old things. To this generation, old things are curious and exotic, and appreciating them is part of the search for a higher quality of life.

The founders of Anarchy Bros in Huam-dong have converted an old Japanese colonial house into a café and pub.

Love of retro

The first stirrings of interest in old things was the Samcheong-dong boom in the early 2000s. For years, the area lived under the shadow of the Blue House, but a loosening of restrictions under President Roh Moo-hyun made it easier for people to visit the area. Rents were cheap and young entrepreneurs began turning old houses, including many Hanok, into cafés and restaurants in creative ways. Many young people flocked to Samcheong-dong to enjoy the juxtaposition of old and new in the area. The popularity of Samcheong-dong caused rents to rise, forcing young entrepreneurs to move to other neighborhoods. Most of the remodeled houses have been replaced by newer buildings, but Café Yeon, one of the first Hanok café renovations, remains as an example of what things were like in the early 2000s.
In the 2010s, the paradigm of young entrepreneurs renovating old building and houses in creative ways to give them a new life spread rapidly to other areas. Seochon, the neighborhood on the opposite side of Gyeongbokgung Palace from Samcheong-dong, became popular for its winding alleys and retro atmosphere. The area is a mixture of Hanok, low-rise multifamily units and commercial buildings of various ages and sizes. Song’s Kitchen, a small gourmet pizza restaurant, turned several walls of a Hanok into picture windows to open the house up to the surrounding area, which gives it a welcoming feeling. From Seochon, renovation of old buildings spread to areas further from the historic center of the city to areas such as Yeonnam-dong near Hongdae and Seongsu-dong southeast of the center. These areas developed in the 1960s and 1970s and have a retro atmosphere that evokes images of Seoul during the early years of the economic boom.
As Seochon and other areas were attracting attention, a boom in guesthouses created new opportunities for young entrepreneurs. In the late 2000s, the city of Seoul began to promote guesthouses to accommodate an ever-rising number of tourists. A few years later, home sharing services like Airbnb made it easier for people to start guesthouses. Many houses built in the 1970s were large so that owners could rent out part of the house for extra income. As apartments became the norm in the late 1980s, these large houses were no longer popular, and many were demolished. Because of their size, many of these houses have been renovated into guesthouses. To attract customers, guesthouses began to pay more attention to design, which created a niche market for architects and designers.
By the middle of the 2010s, cafés, bars, restaurants, shops, and guesthouses were popping up in neighborhoods in Seoul and around the country with a supply of old buildings and convenient transportation. Renovations ranged from minimal changes to complete overhauls, but most renovations highlight old elements, either from the existing building or added ones from other times and places. As elsewhere, most business owners rent the space they use and thus try to limit renovation costs. Using the existing structure effectively helps reduce costs and gives the renovation a sense of authenticity that a complete overhaul often lacks.

Song’s Kitchen in Seochon uses picture windows to open an old Hanok to the surroundings.

An old neighborhood of Hanok houses in central Seoul, the Ikseon-dong district is home to many repurposed Hanok homes.

Not just Hanok

One of the most recent areas to see a wave of renovations is Huam-dong on the hill heading east from Seoul Station. Unlike other popular areas that have experienced regeneration, Huam-dong has the largest concentration of houses built by the Japanese during the colonial period. At that time, most Koreans lived north of the Cheonggyecheon Stream, and most Japanese south of it. Huam-dong was a popular place for Japanese to live because it was easy to get to the Japanese commercial center in Myeong-dong and military facilities in Yongsan. After liberation, Koreans lived in these houses, but they began to disappear rapidly in the late 1980s as owners tore them down to build more profitable multifamily units. Unlike Hanok, colonial-era houses are not considered historically valuable and receive no protection or support from the government.
Nookseoul in Huam-dong is a stunning example of an 80-year old colonial-era house renovated as an upscale guesthouse. The architect, Kim Seunghoy left as much of the original structure intact as possible but updated the kitchen and the bathrooms in contrasting contemporary style. In 2016, the project received an award for innovative architecture from the city of Seoul. Nearby, the JiWol Jang Guest House turned a house built on a large lot where a luxurious colonial-era house used to sit into a relaxing guesthouse amid trees and a larger garden. One of the most interesting renovations is Huam Jubang, a fully equipped kitchen with a dining table that people can rent by the hour. The “shared kitchen” sits in the front of small 1960s-style house on a narrow side street. Several young architects started Huam Jubang to create a place for people to cook together and socialize in an attractive setting. In nearby Haebangchon, young entrepreneurs turned a downscale 1970s commercial space into the Laundry Project, a “social laundromat” with a café and workspace in bright, contemporary interior.
Expensive housing in Seoul has forced many young people to find creative solutions to a problem that affects many big cities around the world. In recent years, young people have started to renovate apartments in less-desirable older buildings. Huam-dong is one of many neighborhoods full of older buildings that offer sweeping views, which designers are eager to integrate into the renovation. Many of these buildings lack parking spaces and are difficult to reach by car, but, as elsewhere, many young people are giving up cars in favor of walking and public transportation.
The British novelist L. P. Hartley famously wrote that “The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.” The speed of change that resulted from years of rapid economic growth in Korea has turned even the near-past and the old things that it produced into a foreign country for the generation that has come of age in the 21st century. The varied buildings of the 20th century—Hanok, Japanese colonial-era houses, 1970s single-family houses, and aging apartments—appeal to young Koreans because they are exotic and “foreign.” The creative energy of this well-traveled, outward-looking generation is giving them new life as spaces that bring people to share a higher quality of life. Jacobs, no doubt, would have been very pleased.

Written by Robert J. Fouser

Photographed by Robert Koehler

Seoul Colors were introduced in 2009 as part of an effort by the city government to live up its reputation as a trend-forward capital of Asia. Instead of adding splashes of modern colors, the capital draws inspirations from its 600 years of history with a goal to create a balanced cityscape. The 10 signature Seoul Colors are not just a celebration of the past, but an effort to have the rapidly developed city find its link with rich history.

The Jongchinbu was a ministry that handled the affairs of the royal family during Joseon (1392–1910).
Originally located near Gyeongbokgung Palace, the historical building was moved to Jeongdok Public Library in Bukchon in 1981 but was returned to its original home in 2013. You can find it in the rear garden of the MMCA Seoul.

Dancheong Red (Seoul Red)

How many of us have paid attention to the ornate paintings on the eaves of a royal palace or Buddhist temple? Frequently overlooked, the intricate paintings called dancheong are an indispensable part of traditional public architecture. In the spread of imageries in the five symbolic colors of blue, red, yellow, white and black, the strong, bright red lends a playfulness to the architecture. The crimson red serves both spiritual and functional purposes, warding off negative energy and preventing pests.

Seoul created today’s Hangang Park in the 1980s as part of the city’s drive to develop the Hangang River. Divided into 11 unique districts, the park runs the entire length of the Hangang River as it passes through Seoul. With walking trails, bike paths, gardens, sports fields and other leisure facilities, the park provides welcome respite to the city’s weary masses.

Hangang Silver (Seoul White)

After many frozen days during the unprecedented cold winter, the Hangang River regains its silver shimmer under the warm spring sun. Try riding along the banks of the river in the morning to get the full sight of the glint of sunlight off the river and take in the fresh spring smell. The pleasant scene also accompanies thousands of Seoulites crossing a total of 31 bridges over the river on their morning commute. The silvery white hue proves to be he Koreans’ all-time favorite color: statistics suggest white is the most preferred color for cars in the nation.

Located just above Seochon’s Suseongdong Valley, Inwangsan Mountain’s Mumudae Observation Deck offers a panoramic view of downtown Seoul. You used to have to hike to the top of the mountain to get views like this. Not anymore.

Seoul Sky Blue (Seoul Blue)

Over the course of years, a clear blue sky has become increasingly treasured by citizens who check air pollution levels as closely as a stock index. A cloudless day reveals the diverse beauties of the capital that go easily unnoticed on dusty days. Go up any mountain in the city to get a panoramic view of the bustling capital. One can easily get a view of distant Seoul landmarks such as the Lotte World Tower from an observatory in Bukhansan National Park.

Founded in 1395, destroyed in the 16th century, rebuilt in the 19th century, almost completely dismantled in the early 20th century and the target of nearly constant restoration efforts ever since, Gyeongbokgung Palace is witness to over six centuries of drama. As you stroll around its gardens and courtyards, take some time to appreciate the beautiful floral designs on the west wall of Jagyeongjeon Hall, originally built in 1865 as the residence of Queen Dowager Hyoyu.

Kkotdam Hwangto (Seoul Orange)

In a sea of monochrome vehicles, Seoul taxis in a warm orange-brown bring a splash of color. Seoul taxis had no signature color until this hue was introduced in 2009. The inspiration for this color can be found at the queen dowager’s residence in Gyeongbokgung Palace. The warm orange hue decorates its brick walls with floral tiles, or kkotdam, setting a feminine ambience in the masculine palace environment. Now the city hopes the color will settle as a symbolic color for taxis like New York’s yellow and London’s black cabs.

Beautiful cloisters, or haenggak, line the main courtyard of Gyeongbokgung Palace. In the days of old, the haenggak functioned as passageways. Nowadays, they also present a stunning backdrop for photos.

Palace Brown (Seoul Brown)

The rich brown hue of the wooden pillars and gates in Seoul’s royal palaces offers a calming feeling almost like walking in the woods. It strikes a chord with busy urbanites increasingly on the lookout to bring wooden furniture and products into their homes. The mountainous countryside has been a natural provider of wooden materials for palace construction from ancient times. Pine trees, known for resilience, have been popularly used to keep Korean architecture sustainable and durable throughout the centuries.

Stretching from Gyeongbokgung Palace in the west to Changdeokgung Palace in the east, Bukchon Hanok Village boasts Seoul’s largest collection of traditional tile roofed homes, or Hanok. To get a bird’s eye view of the neighborhood, try the Bukchon Observatory, a viewing platform on the top floor of an old brick apartment.

Giwa Dark Gray (Seoul Dark Gray)

What makes the utilitarian and rustic Hanok roof tiles, or giwa, dark gray? Following a usual process of earthenware making, the initial yellow-brown tiles are showered by smoke from burned pine trees. Through this process, roof tiles are born to offer complete protection against water and all weather conditions. It takes hours to discuss the minutiae of Hanok roof tiles, but take a look at a Hanok roof from any upper level to find a beauty in collective waves of patterns.

The outer walls of Seoul’s royal palaces offer some of the city’s most pleasant walks, especially in spring and autumn. Though Deoksugung Palace’s promenade is the best known, the outer walls of Gyeongbokgung Palace make for a lovely stroll, too.

Doldam Light Gray (Seoul Light Gray)

A walk along the outer stone walls, or doldam, of the royal palaces can be a pleasantly tranquil experience in an otherwise bustling city. The light gray stone walls serves as a versatile backdrop for different groups of Seoul pedestrians. They make for a romantic spot for couples, Instagram-worthy spots for photo-savvy tourists, or a place of respite for hard-working and highly stressed Seoulites. Pick any royal palace and start exploring its outer circles The 1.1 km-long path along the outer wall of Deoksugung Palace is an especially popular walk, although myth has it that couples who complete the stroll will break up in the end.

Thick forests of pine trees blanket the slopes of Namsan Mountain. Beneath the dark canopy, a pine forest can inspire reverence and awe, the gnarled, scaly trunks and twisting, tangled limbs suggesting the surreal, the supernatural, that you aren’t alone.

Namsan Green (Seoul Green)

Conifers are one of the most common tree species on Seoul’s landmark Namsan Mountain. The rich forest of evergreen pines keeps the city’s favorite leisure place looking green throughout the year. The trees have symbolized the mountain for far longer than N Seoul Tower. They even appear in the Korean national anthem. The mountain is also home to a collection of 80 different types of endemic Korean pine trees displayed in its wildflower garden, an outdoor arboretum showcasing different plant and flower species.

Beautiful but hardy, ginkgo trees are the tough guys and girls of the arboreal world. Six ginkgo trees in Hiroshima survived the 1945 atomic bombing of the city,
despite being just a kilometer or two from ground zero. They are still alive today. Moreover, fossils suggest the tree has remained largely unchanged for at least 200 million years.

Eunhaeng Yellow (Seoul Yellow)

The ginkgo yellow beats the maple red during Seoul’s autumn as the former account for almost 40 percent of the city’s street trees. Widely blamed for the stink of their nuts, ginkgo trees, or eunhaeng, are incredibly hardy, withstanding urban air pollution and plant diseases. City authorities have attempted to replace female ginkgo trees, the sources of the unpleasant smell, with male trees. The common sight of older women picking ginkgo seeds in early fall, however, proves the firm status of female trees as a source for one of Koreans’ favorite snacks and dietary supplements.

Most visitors know Gwangjang Market for its excellent street food. But the historical market, founded in 1905, is also an excellent place to find clothing materials, traditional Korean attire and vintage apparel. On the first floor of the market, you can find several shops specializing in hempen fabric, or sambe, including the fine Andongpo variety from Andong, Gyeongsangbuk-do.

Sambe Beige (Seoul Beige)

During Joseon (1392–1910), many commoners wore the understated color of white beige. Historical documents indicate that foreigners visiting Korea were often amazed at the sight of streets full of people wearing white from head to toe. The choice of fabrics and dyes reflected one’s social status. It was an economic choice for commoners to use natural threads sourced from hemp, ramie, cotton flowers and silkworms without having to dye and craft a daily uniform. The natural look eventually led to Koreans being called the “people of white.”

Written by Wooyoung Lee
Photographed by Robert Koehler

Korea has come a long way since its first Winter Olympics, the 1948 games in St. Mortiz, when just three athletes represented the country. Since South Korea’s first ever podium finish in  the 1992 Albertville Winter Games, the nation has won 26 gold medals, 17 silver and 10 bronze — a total of 53 medals.

Korea has long had a passion for winter sports. Koreans have always taken to their snowy mountains and frozen lakes in winter in search of fun and relaxation. In old photos of the Hangang River in winter for instance, young couples glide across the ice on skates and beaming children push themselves across the frozen expanse on simple wooden sleds. Recent additions, including skiing and snowboarding, have only added to the country’s rich winter milieu. Now, as Korea hosts the 2018 PyeongChang Olympic and Paralympic Winter Games, the nation is poised to become an international winter sports destination.

Popular winter pastimes

Sledding, or sseolmae, is one of the oldest winter pastimes in the nation. Kids would go to the nearest hill with an empty rice sack to use to slide down. Others used basins used for wintertime kimchi-making to race down the hill at top speed.

Sledding is an opportunity for adults to revisit their childhood and share those memories with their children. For kids, it’s an experience they’ll treasure and pass to their kids. It’s this intergenerational bonding that makes sledding so special.

Though the days of rice sacks and basins are long gone, and plastic sleds are now easily rented, Seoul now boasts some excellent sledding sites for all to enjoy.

© Yonhap News

Seoulland (T. 02-509-6000):  Located in Gwacheon, the popular amusement park also boasts two sledding courses — one for kids and one for big kids, i.e., adults.

Ttukseom Hangang River Park (T. 02-444-5358): The temporary sledding hill next to the Hangang River is open until mid-February.

Children’s Grand Park (T. 02-450-9311): The sledding slopes are open until mid February. Visitors to the park can also enjoy outdoor games, air bumper cars, inflatable houses and ice fishing.

Ice fishing

Koreans love to fish. In winter, old and young alike enjoy ice fishing on frozen lakes and rivers. Using a simple, light fishing rod with small, brightly colored lures or jigs, anglers sit at a hole in the ice, lifting the pole every now and then to make the bait look real.

The most popular prey is trout, a beautiful fish that can be eaten either raw or cooked. Korea’s popular ice fishing festivals let inexperienced ice anglers try their hand at this fun wintertime activity. One festival, the Hwacheon Sancheoneo Ice Festival in Hwacheon, Gangwon-do, regularly draws over a million visitors. So popular it is that the Lonely Planet named it to its list of the “Seven Wonders of Winter” in 2011.

Hwacheon Sancheoneo Ice Festival (Jan. 6-Feb. 28): Hwacheon, a small town located in the rugged mountains of Gangwon-do, is one of the coldest places in Korea, but a hot destination for visitors looking to do a bit of ice fishing. The Hwacheon Sancheoneo Ice Festival is dedicated to the sancheoneo, a local variety of trout that thrives in the cold, clean waters.

The festival includes trout ice fishing, lure fishing and bare-handed fishing (not for the faint of heart!), with fishing zones for expats, children and infants, too.

If you’re not a fan of fishing, the festival has other enjoyable programs such as snow sledding, ice sledding, ice soccer and even bobsleigh. Visit their website at www.narafestival.com (available in Korean, English, Japanese and Chinese).

PyeongChang Trout Festival (thru Feb. 25): The PyeongChang Trout Festival perfectly compliments the 2018 PyeongChang Olympic Winter Games. Trout farming came to Korea in 1965 when 10,000 hatchery eggs from rainbow trout were brought to Pyeongchang from California. Trout is now one of Pyeongchang’s signature foods, both in its raw and breaded-and-fried forms.

The PyeongChang Trout Festival offers plenty of ice fishing opportunities. There are non-fishing programs, too, including four-wheel ATVs, snow rafting and sleigh trains.

Ice skating

Ice skating has been a popular winter activity in Korea long before Kim Yuna became a figure skating superstar. Ice skating came to Korea at the beginning of the 20th century. During the colonial era, Koreans and Japanese frequently held speed skating competitions. Three Korean speed skaters even took part in the 1936 Winter Olympic Games in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany, albeit as part of the Japanese team. In the 1950s and 1960s, local police stations would turn sections of the Hangang River into impromtu skating rinks whenever the waterway froze — which it often did back then.

Though few could afford skates in the old days, today’s affluence has made ice skating a leisure of the masses. Kids dreaming of becoming the next “Queen Yuna,” young couples on dates or anyone else with the time and inclination can head to one of Seoul’s several public ice skating rinks, lace on a pair of rental skates and hit the ice, all for a very reasonable price.

SEOUL’s Exploring Seoul section has more information on Seoul’s ice rinks.

© Romain John

Skiing and snowboarding

Living in a mountainous country, many Koreans head to the slopes during the winter season.

The art of gliding on snow on underfoot strips of rigid material such as wood began in Northern Europe several millenia ago. In frosty mountain areas of Korea such as Pyeongchang, too, locals traditionally used wooden snow shoes, or soelpi, to get around when deep snow covered the ground. Korea’s first ski resort, Sinpung Ski Resort near what is now the North Korean port city of Wonsan, opened in 1926. The Joseon Ski Club — the forbearer of the Korea Ski Association — was founded in 1930.

Korea now has a total of 21 ski resorts – 201 kilometers of slopes serviced by 137 ski lifts.

Located in the heart of Korea’s mountainous spine, the highland province of Gangwon-do offers the best opportunities for snow sports since the rugged terrain yields the most snowfall in the nation. It’s here, in Korea’s “snow country,” that some of the best ski resorts are located, including those hosting many of the events of PyeongChang 2018.

Where you go depends on your time, skill level and wallet. Most resorts have ski schools and instructors that speak English for non-Korean guests.

Pyeongchang’s Yongpyong Ski Resort, one of Korea’s most popular destinations, is the largest ski resort in the country. One of two resorts hosting events for PyeongChang 2018, Yongpyong expects an even bigger boost in the number of skiers and snowboarders.

The High 1 Ski Resort, located on Taebaeksan Mountain in Jeongseong, is renown for its wide range of slopes. The slopes, carved out of rocky terrain, draw skiers and snowboarders of all levels.

Located in Gyeonggi-do, the province that surrounds Seoul, Bears Town Ski Resort might not be as big as the ones mentioned above, but it’s still popular among skiers and snowboarders in Seoul as it’s less than an hour away. It has 11 lifts and a decent range of difficulty levels.

While many look to rest in their rooms, or even hit the spas after, others look to hit the slopes again during the nighttime, when the snowy fields present a completely different feel and view. Almost all resorts offer nighttime skiing, and some resorts operate their lifts until the wee hours of the morning.

Something a bit more extreme

Inspired by their winter sports legends, many young athletes train hard, dreaming of one day standing atop the Olympic podium like heroes such as Kim Yuna and Chun Lee-kyung.

Others, however, do what they do just for the kicks.

From diving into ice cold water to scaling frozen waterfalls, Korea offers adrenaline junkies and the merely insane plenty of reasons to leave the house in winter.

Polar Bear Swimming Contest

Held for the 31st time in January, the annual Polar Bear Swimming Contest is one of the world’s craziest winter activities. Participants from all over descend on Busan’s Haeundae Beach to jump into the frigid sea wearing nothing but swimsuits. Believing that diving into the cold water will make you stronger during the winter season, more than 2,000 people swim in the icy waters, braving the cold. The BBC was so impressed — or horrified — that it included the event in its list of the top 10 unusual winter sports in 2010.

© Yonhap News

Ice climbing

Perhaps thanks to Kim Ja-in, the world class climber who has not only won a number of gold medals in World Cup events but has also climbed the tallest building in Korea, Koreans are growing to accept climbing as an exciting sport and a fun-filled activity. Some climbers are even taking their sport to another level through the challenge of ice climbing.

With heavy emphasis on safety, ice climbers get together to climb icy mountains and cliffs. Frozen waterfalls such as the one in Cheongsong’s Eoreumgol Valley, the site of the 2018 UIAA Ice Climbing World Cup (Feb. 9–11), and Seoraksan Mountain’s Towangseong Waterfall are especially popular challenges, so much so that some cities and towns have created their own artificial waterfalls for ice climbing.

© Yonhap News

If the great outdoors aren’t your thing, try the indoor ice wall at Kolon Alpine School in Ui-dong, Seoul. The four-story wall of ice is the world’s tallest at 20 meters. With instructors present, it’s a good place to learn the ropes, both figuratively and literally. Sanirang Alpine Networks LLC (sanirang.net) offers classes on ice climbing, too, taught by English speakers.

Winter paragliding in Danyang

Danyang-gun, Chungcheongbuk-do is known for its majestic paragliding. Most choose to go paragliding in the summer or fall, but some hearty souls take on the challenge of paragliding in winter. It might be cold and windy, but the views of the frozen landscape won’t be soon forgotten.

Snow golf

Koreans love to play golf. So much so that some even play “snow golf” in the winter time.

Hitting off smooth, white fairways, golf enthusiasts have found a way to pursue their passion even amid the ice and snow. Some country clubs let golfers hit the links in the snow. While the scenery might change, the goal of the game remains the same, as do the rules. Pro tip — keep your garden-variety white golf balls in your bag and use colored ones instead. You should also avoid using clubs with graphite shafts as they can shatter in very cold weather.

Asia’s next winter sport’s hub?

National and local authorities hope the 2018 PyeongChang Games can turn Korea generally and the province of Gangwon-do specifically into one of Asia’s major winter sports destinations. “The hope is that the Olympics can have a lasting impact on the tourism industry here and help South Korea rival Japan — and upstart China — as a winter sports destination,” wrote the New York Times in a February 2017 story on Pyeongchang.

Where Korea becomes a major Asian winter sports destination remains to be seen, of course. The country’s mountains are not as high as those in Japan, nor does it get as much snow. Its sky trails are still a bit too easy for more experienced skiers, too. The difference can be seen in the numbers. According to statistics from the Ski Business Association of Korea cited in the New York Times, ski visits to Korea peaked at 6.8 million in 2011–12, while Japan still averages 30 million ski visits per year.

Still, by placing the Korean winter sports scene squarely in world view, the Olympics might help make the country a winter destination.

And it’s not as if Korea doesn’t have things going for it. “Though South Korea may not spring immediately to mind as a winter sports destination, its well-developed resorts and abundance of snow make it a worthwhile choice for keen skiers and snowboarders,” writes Megan Eaves for Lonely Planet. “It’s also one of the few places in the world where you can hit the slopes by day and party in a major metropolis — Seoul— by night.” Ulrike Pertoll, an Italian in Seoul, seconded these sentiments while talking to the New York Times. Noting how close Korea’s trails were to Seoul and the low costs compared to Japan, she said, “Where else can you do that so easily in Asia?”

Written by SJ Lee

A Korean proverb tells us, “At the end of hardship, comes happiness.” In a country that has long valued sacrifice and family over individual self-fulfillment, the pursuit of happiness has a relatively short history. In the past few years, however, there has been a small but significant movement pushing for the “YOLO life.” An acronym for “you only live once,” made popular by the 2011 Drake song “Motto,” YOLO is often understood as a repackaging of the Latin saying carpe diem – “seize the day.”  Braving the social norm of following a single career path for life, many of those inspired by YOLO are quitting their jobs to search for a happier life. Some are taking classes on what it means to have a career that’s the right fit for you. Some are reading books on the topic. How has the “quitting time” craze, as it is called, manifested itself in society? What larger impact might the movement have on social happiness? Is living if every day is your last really the best way?

Quitting young

Typically in their 20s and 30s, YOLO followers are part of a younger generation dissatisfied with typical working conditions in Korea. With youth unemployment at a staggering 10.6 percent according to 2016 data from the OECD, some millennials have even nicknamed Korea “Hell Joseon” on a Facebook group that now has more than 20,000 members. Moreover, even those that manage to land a job are not necessarily satisfied with company life. OECD data from 2016 shows that Koreans work the third most overtime hours. A joint survey by the Korea Employment Information Service and Youth Hope Foundation of those age 19 to 34 found that 85 percent of those in their first job are already thinking of quitting.

© Yonhap News

Stress and frustration

Considering how difficult it can be for young people to find a job in the first place, it is surprising how many new hires actually quit. “When your stress is bigger than your job, it’s easy to understand why people quit,” says magazine editor Young as she discusses with former colleague Sarah – both of whom wish to remain anonymous  – about the pressures of working in Korea.

“Crazy work hours, authoritarian bosses under a very strict hierarchy and low wages are just a few of the reasons,” adds Sarah.

A 2016 survey by the Korea Employers Federation revealed that 27.7 percent of new hires quit their jobs within the first year in 2015. Their reasons for doing so echo those of Young and Sarah. Reasons cited in the survey included companies having an outdated view of office culture, work getting in the way of life and being given tasks that the employees felt weren’t right for them.

Lim Soo-jin, who left her job in brand management last summer, laughs when asked about the downside to quitting. “I saw no future in the company I was working for and I had no faith in the leadership there,” she says. “When you work for a company, money can satisfy you only so much.”

She cites being able to wake up late, being able to travel and simply having time to herself as the main perks of quitting her job. She knows, however, that she is fortunate enough to have freelancing gigs on the side to help pay the bills. She adds, “I am still ambitious about my career, but having this time off helped me realize that I don’t want to work in brand management any more.”

Big versus small

Currently seeking employment at a large corporation, Lim recognizes that when deciding to quit, size matters. She says, “Sure, quitting your job has become a trend, but it’s also because there are so many small- to medium-sized companies that struggle with insufficient funds and weak leadership that employees simply don’t feel the long hours are worth the effort.”

Korea Employer’s Federation data from 2016 shows that though new hires are quitting their jobs in larger numbers, those at large, sought-out companies such as Samsung, LG, Hyundai and Lotte are much less keen to do so. At companies with more than 300 employees, the percentage of new hires leaving the company in the first two years ranges was 9.4 percent in 2015, while at companies with less than 300 employees, that number jumps to 32.5 percent.

As a 2017 article in U.S. broadcaster NPR puts it, “For many Korean youth, it’s the dream of a job-for-life with a big conglomerate – or nothing at all.”

Learning to quit

Quitting one’s job could be the first phase in pursuing a happier life. But what does it mean to have a fulfilling job? How can you tell what work you are “meant to do” in life? What if the corporate job you’ve always dreamed of is suffocating you and you have to leave?

To help the newly unemployed from spiraling into an existentialist crisis, there is now even a school called Twaesa Hakgyo, or T-School, offering classes on everything from preparing to quit your job and finding the career that suits you to starting a YouTube channel.

© Twaesa Hakgyo

The founder of T-School, Jang Suhan, got the idea of starting the school when he quit Samsung Electronics. There are 18 teachers at the school and you can sign up for something as intensive as a three-month course or as simple as a one-day class. Jang estimates that approximately 5,000 people have attended his school since its foundation in 2016. “Like everyone else in the country, I studied hard in school. During my twenties, I took the TOEIC and TOEFL and studied Chinese characters to build up my resume and finally got into a big company,” said Jang in an interview with employment website Job & Joy. “After finally getting into the company, I started to wonder what would make me happy. I think everyone’s reasons for quitting vary a little, but everyone’s just trying to look for a way to be happy.”

Books and more

Jang is not the only person profiting from the “quitting time” craze. There are now dozens of books on the topic, including a book by Jang himself entitled “Twaesa Hakgyo.” Similar titles include “Everyday I Decide to Quit My Job,” by Park Young-rok, “I Will Quit My Job and Travel,” by Kim Dae-gun and Kim Tae-hyun and “Dad, Quit Your Job and Study Abroad,” by No Seung-hoo. “Gifts for those who quit” has become a popular search term on online shopping malls. Companies like Daehan Gold are advertising gold-plated key and plaque sets for those looking for a gift for long-time employees and more affordable hand cream and soap sets for new-hires leaving the game early.

Alternative employment

With traditional company culture increasingly unappealing to many young Koreans, people are looking outside the box – and sometimes outside the country – for work. According to the job portal Saramin last June, 78.5 percent of Koreans would like to find a job abroad. Some 48,121 Koreans got jobs in Japan alone in 2017, more than double the number who did so in 2008.

Those staying in the country are also coming up with innovative ways to become re-employed. Supported by the government, start-ups are a continuously growing presence. Though some aspects of launching a startup in Korea remain problematic, a handful of startups graduate into full-fledged members of their respective industries every year. More and more Koreans are joining the one-person media craze, too, by creating YouTube channels and podcasts in order to pay the rent.

YOLO in moderation

Even those not necessarily quitting their jobs are looking for a way to YOLO. According to an article in the Korea Times last October, the pursuit of hobbies have been on the rise with more adults picking up childhood hobbies such as Taekwondo, arts and crafts and language courses. According to data from the Education Ministry, the number of adults attending arts-related private academies, such as fine arts, music and dance classes, has soared in the past few years. The number has grown fivefold from just 42,000 in 2013 to nearly 200,000 in 2016.

In the past two years, there has even been an emergence of so-called YOLO classes. Oftentimes, these are one-day classes where groups of people come together to go on nighttime walks, bake or arrange flowers. These types of one-day classes are especially appealing to younger people who don’t want their lives to revolve around the workplace but can’t afford to quit their jobs. Travel, another reprieve from the workplace, is also on the rise as more and more Koreans leave the country on holidays. Traveling solo is at an all-time high with 206,000 people buying plane tickets for one in 2015, up fivefold from 2011, indicating that more people are taking time for themselves.

YOLO not for everyone

YOLO and quitting your job reflect the state of the economy, too. Lim Woon-taek, a professor at Kiemyung University, tells Yonhap News, “When the economic condition is unclear, people tend to make radical decisions.”

Professor Kim Nan-do, a consumer studies expert at Seoul National University, predicted YOLO as a consumer keyword at the beginning of 2017. He said YOLO and “no one backs you up” would be two complementary trends. “These two are like the two sides of the coin showing how people perceive the current era,” he says. “People have no one to count on except themselves. Such desperateness presents as YOLO Life, a consumption pattern that highly values the present.”

© Yonhap News

Those opposed to the YOLO lifestyle and in favor of thriftiness have found themselves a champion in comedian Kim Saeng-min, who has started a popular podcast critical of excessive spending. According to research company Embrain, a growing number of Koreans are opposed to the term YOLO. In a survey reported by Yonhap, 70.6 percent of respondents said the phrase has been too commercialized and 55.9 percent said the concept fosters excessive consumption.

Work-life balance?

Time will tell what to make of the quitting time craze and how much of a dent classes and books will have made on those who chose to be unemployed. The radical decision-making encouraged in a slow economy aside, many quitting new-hires and YOLO-followers are signaling a thirst for change in conventional workplace practices. Will companies be forced to reexamine their policies and make changes to working culture? Will rejuvenated workers come back to the work force with a greater sense of purpose?

Perhaps somewhere between waiting for hardship to end as per the Korean proverb and YOLO is a harmonious balance between work, free time and the pursuit of happiness.

Written by Hahna Yoon

Small Screen Quitters

TV celebrities, too, are seeking new life paths

Although the word “quitting” often has a bad rep, these famous celebrities took the first step in changing their lives by quitting their television gigs. They are pursuing everything from travel writing to freelance work. Who are they and what do their departures say about the media industry in Korea?

© Yonhap News

Sohn Mina

Look up Sohn Mina and you’ll find a record of her accomplishments, from being the founder and chairman for Alain de Botton’s School of Life in Seoul to authoring several travel books. One could even credit her with starting the “quitting time” and YOLO trends in Korea. Last summer, on the MBC program “Radio Star,” she said, “Although I acquired a lot of popularity at the company, I got tired of it after working seven days a week for five years.”  She first became famous as a broadcast announcer at KBS, a much sought-after position here in Korea. Her career really took off, however, when she followed her heart and quit to pursue her dream job – travel writing.

© Lifetime

Kim So-young

Formerly a broadcast journalist at MBC, Kim So-young has received much attention over the past few months. In addition to being an avid fan of the K-pop group BTS and making appearances on shows such as Newlywed Diary 2, Kim has decided to quit to begin anew. She announced that she was leaving MBC by posting a photo on her Instagram account last July. The photo featured the book “Tokyo for Those Ready to Quit Their Jobs: The Business Insight You Develop on Vacation” by Lee Dong-jin. She and her husband, Oh Sang-jin, have recently opened a book café in the Mapo area called Danginri Book Plant.

© SBS

Park Shin-woo

Although it may not be immediately apparently when someone behind the scenes leaves the company, the departure of such people may have a dramatic impact on popular shows. While you may not recognize the name Park Shin-woo, the producer was responsible for dramas such as “Jealousy Incarnate,” “Angel Eyes” and “King of Ambition.” The news of Park’s departure comes shortly after fellow producer Jin Hyeok also decided to leave SBS. Local news reports that Park is preparing to join hands with another company where he will continue to create material. Television critics worry what could happen to the big-name shows he produced without his talent.

© Yonhap News

Oh Sang-jin

Birds of a feather flock together. Or, perhaps, life is better when you quit together. The public learned a lot about the relationship between Kim So-young and Oh Sang-jin through the TV program “Newlywed Diary 2.” Before that, however, Oh was well known for his criticism of MBC. Oh participated in several strikes, leading to a feud with the company and prompting his resignation in 2013. Since then, Oh has been working freelance, joining YG Entertainment last February and appearing in other TV shows. It was recently revealed that Oh would host the MBC Drama Awards.

Written by Hahna Yoon

Seoul is a city of neighborhoods that blend into each other to create a gigantic whole. If there is anything that distinguishes Seoul from its peers, it is the pace of change, the energetic churning that makes Seoul feel new almost every day. Gleaming apartment complexes change the face of old neighborhoods forever. Shops, cafés and restaurants comes and go; what is in today is out tomorrow.

’80s chic

The latest wave to roll through Seoul is a retro aesthetic drawn from images of Korean life from the 1960s to the 1980s. The trend appeared on the fringes early in the 2010s, but gained momentum in 2015 in response to the hit TV series “Reply 1988.” Set in the year Seoul hosted the Summer Olympics, the show centers on the lives of five friends and their families in a typical neighborhood in Seoul. Family and friends were close, and neighbors knew each other well. Family and friends fought and made up; neighbors gossiped and looked out for each other.

“Reply 1988” was popular with people who were young adults in the 1980s. Now in their 50s and 60s, they came of age at the peak of the economic boom and democracy movement. For some, the show triggered a longing for a simpler past when life was slower and human relations deeper. For others, it stirred memories of a time of economic and political difficulty.

©Yonhap News

The show was also popular among their children who are now in their 20s and 30s and have no memory of life in 1988. Their interest in the past that their parents lived through created the retro boom that is now sweeping the country. Cafés filled with vintage furniture are all the rage. Bakeries and Chinese restaurants from the era that had been slowly losing customers now have lines. Older neighborhoods that have a retro look and feel suddenly find themselves full of young people snapping pictures and enjoying selfies.

©Hwang Sun-young

The interesting questions, of course, are where does the retro boom come from and what does it mean. What do people in their 20s and 30s find so attractive about the time when their parents came of age?

Harder, but more optimistic times

Some historical background will help answer these questions. The Korean economy began to grow rapidly in the mid-1960s and that continued until the 1990s, except for a sharp downturn in 1980 following the assassination of President Park Chung-hee a year earlier. The boom transformed Korea from a poor, largely rural nation into an urban industrialized nation. Military dictatorships dominated the era until democratization in 1987. The economic boom and democratization put Korea on the path toward entering the select group of wealthy democracies in the 2000s.

The economic boom caused rapid social change as people poured into growth cities in search of a better life. These new city dwellers had roots in close-knit village life and carried those patterns of behavior with them to the cities. A shortage of housing forced people to live in close quarters. The booming economy demanded an ever better educated workforce and people responded by staying in school and going to universities in increasingly large numbers. Young people coming of age in 1988 were optimistic about future economic growth and the prospects for democracy.

©Robert Koehler

Compared to today, however, life in 1988 in Korea was much harder. The housing shortage continued well into the 1990s, when large apartment complexes helped relieve pressure on crowded cities. Many houses lacked simple comforts such as showers and hot water, to say nothing of air conditioning. Schools were strict and corporal punishment was the norm. Young men had to complete three years of military service instead of two. Far fewer women were in leadership and professional positions than today.

Retro without even trying: Seochon

A look at how young people have defined retro offers clues to its appeal. Seochon, an old neighborhood that sits to the immediate west of Gyeongbokgung Palace, is a good place to find out because it was one of the first places to become popular for its retro atmosphere. Like Bukchon, Seochon has many Hanok – traditional Korean-style houses – built mostly in the 1930s. It also has a few Japanese-style houses from the 1930s, but much of the neighborhood is composed of buildings from the boom years. The built environment is a hodgepodge, but makes it feel like the neighborhood in “Reply 1988” compared to the orderly apartment complexes that dominate the city now.

Until Seochon became trendy, the neighborhood was mostly residential with businesses to meet their needs. Many of the businesses have been there for years and the area looked retro without even trying. Yeonghwaru, a local Chinese restaurant, appeared on a TV program about the neighborhood and instantly attracted young people who came to soak up the retro atmosphere. The food is Korean-style Chinese food that became popular during the economic boom.

©Robert Koehler

Just up the street from Yeonghwaru is the Hyoja Bakery, another neighborhood mainstay. Beginning in the 2000s, many independent bakeries entered franchise agreements with bakery chains to remain competitive. This caused the bakeries to switch to more contemporary items, such as croissants and sandwiches, and drop items that had long been popular. By the 2010s, the Hyoja Bakery was the only established independent bakery in the neighborhood. Like Yeonghwaru, it appeared in a TV program on the neighborhood and suddenly found long lines of young people waiting to buy retro bread and sweets on the weekend.

The Hyoja Bakery is near the entrance to the Tongin Market that weaves through a narrow arcade. During the boom years, it was the main place to buy food in the neighborhood, but it fell on hard times in the 2000s as supermarkets became popular. In the early 2010s, the government developed a program to support local markets, and the Tongin Market used the program to develop a boxed lunch that customers could assemble by choosing homemade items from local shops. The boxed lunch was a hit because much of the food sold in the market has a retro feel compared to what is sold in the convenience stores. The market had long been famous for several venders of round rice cakes cooked in sesame oil. Cooked rice cakes have long been a common street food in Korea, but they are retro because they were perhaps the most popular after-school snack during the boom years.

©Robert Koehler

An important part of the retro boom is design, and Seochon has several good examples of this. One of the first places to attract attention for its retro feel is the Daeo Bookshop on the same street as Yeonghwaru. Originally a used bookshop specializing in self-study books for school subjects, the bookshop attracted attention in the early 2010s because of the large retro sign hanging over the door. The shop is in a Hanok, which enhances the retro atmosphere. As visitors increased, the bookshop stopped selling books and turned itself into a café that doubles as an informal museum of retro.

While the retro boom has given established businesses new appeal, it has also helped new businesses find their niche in repurposed spaces. In Seochon, cafés that opened in the 2010s used vintage furniture and objects to create a retro atmosphere. One early example is Café Spring, which fills a large old house built in the 1960s. The Mid-Century modern furniture, most of which is imported from the U.S. works with the old house to create a homey retro atmosphere. Another café in Seochon, mk2, builds its retro atmosphere around a diverse collection of Mid-Century modern furniture and lighting from the U.S. and Europe.

Old is new again

As the retro boom gathered steam, retro hot spots popped up quickly in other neighborhoods not known for being trendy. One of the most interesting is the Taegeukdang bakery near Dongguk University. The bakery opened in 1946 and soon became one of the leading bakeries in Seoul. The bakery moved to its current location in 1974 and, after years of appealing to an ever-aging clientele, it is now popular with young people who flock to see the 1970s interior and enjoy the retro sweets. The interest in retro bakeries has prompted major food companies to market retro bread and sweets.

©Robert Koehler

Retro cafés have begun to appear in commercial and working-class areas of the city. Coffee Hanyakbang in Euljiro is a good example. Located in a small alley in an area known for small metalsmith workshops, the café uses vintage Korean inlaid mother of pearl and black lacquer furniture and other vintage objects from the 1960s and 1970s in a spartan industrial space to create a hip retro ambiance. Near Seoul Station, Café Moon fills a small two-story space in concrete building full of made-to-fit shoe shops. The rear of the café looks over the train tracks and retro atmosphere of Seoul Station area in the background. As young people dip in and out of the cafés, they take pictures of streetscapes that come from the rapidly industrializing 1970s.

Fashion and leisure go retro, too

The retro boom is also making itself felt in fashion and leisure. Bright colored polyester suits and flashy accessories, for example, hark back to early 1980s when increased disposable income stirred an interest in fashion. Pop stars of the time, such as Cho Yong-pil and Seo Taiji in the early 1990s, were known for their flashy suits and accessories. Another side to retro fashion is interest in school uniforms from the 1960s and 1970s. In Ihwa-dong, an artsy neighborhood famous for murals near Dongdaemun, many young people rent school uniforms and walk around taking selfies. The uniforms fit in nicely with retro atmosphere of the neighborhood, creating the perfect “Instagramable” retro experience.

One of the most interesting retro trends is the revival of vintage video games. In the mid-1980s, small video game arcades spread rapidly across the country in response to popularity of Space Invaders. They remained popular until the mid-1990s when home video game consoles and computer games began putting arcades out of business. In Seochon, the Ogin Video Arcade opened in 2015 in the same small space that a popular video arcade had occupied. The arcade features restored vintage video arcade machines and other vintage games. It attracts people who grew up with video arcades and younger people who know only computer games.

©Robert Koehler

LPs and vintage audio equipment have become popular again, as they have elsewhere in the world. Some bars, such as LP Era Music Forest in Seochon, have walls of LPs and take requests from customers. Large cafés and bars in the 1970s and 1980s often had DJs who would play a continuous stream of requests. Many retro cafés have vintage audio equipment and a collection of LPs that add to the retro atmosphere.

Retro in Korea and elsewhere is a trend that reflects the present, not the past on which it draws. The young generation in Korea is the first in history to have grown up in nuclear families that lived in apartments where many had their own room. They are also the first generation to have grown up in material prosperity and with opportunities that most of their parents lacked. They are, in short, the first generation that grew up in a prosperous and democratic Korea.

In the 1970s in the U.S. for example, the retro ’50s films and TV shows, such as “Grease” and “Happy Days,” reflected the desire to escape the frustrations of the day and go back to what was perceived to be a simpler time. The retro boom among young people in Korea today fulfills a similar need. For all their advantages, young people find it difficult to enter a society that has become one of the most competitive in the world. The pressure to collect the right credentials and to have the right looks is immense; it constricts people and forces them to look inward.

©Robert Koehler

Retro appeals to young people in Korea because it stands as a reminder of a time of boundless opportunity and close connections among people. It offers an optimistic escape from the tense, sometimes gloomy present. It also offers a chance for consumption of experiences that look good on social media, which helps build self-esteem as the “likes” pour in. Meanwhile, for the generation who remembers the time, it offers a dose of nostalgia and serves as a reminder of how far Korea has come. With cross-generation appeal, the retro boom will continue to make itself felt in new and unexpected ways.

Written by Robert J. Fouser

Going Retro

Feeling nostalgic, but there’s only so many times you can watch “Reply 1988” or “Stranger Things”? Don’t fear – SEOUL is here to help. Here are some recommended places where you, dear reader, can get your retro on.

Hakrim Dabang

Founded in 1956, Hyehwa-dong’s Hakrim Dabang is not only Seoul’s oldest surviving café, but arguably also it’s most storied. Located just across the street from what used to be Seoul National University, the coffeehouse has counted among its regulars some of Korea’s best known writers, poets, artists and intellectuals. The interior is pure vintage, from the classical music LPs behind the bar to the retro window frames. It was even used as a filming locale for “Reply 1988.” You don’t get more retro cred than that.
T. 02-742-2877

National Folk Museum of Korea

OK, so very little about the so-called “Street of Memories” at the National Folk Museum of Korea is real. Nonetheless, the recreation of Korean life in the 1960s and 1970s, complete with a vintage barber shop, teahouse, suit shop, comic book shop and streetcar, is a great place to retro up your Instagram.
T. 02-3704-3114

Yongma Land

“Abandoned amusement park” is usually code for “creepy,” but this one in eastern Seoul has taken on a second life as a surprisingly popular filming locale and photo spot. In particular, the old carousel is a hot place to shoot music videos, which in turn makes it a hot place to shoot wedding photographs, date photographs, cosplay photographs and general Instagram fodder. You have to pay a small fee to use the facilities.
T. 010-8792-6865

Ogu Banjeom

Old Chinese restaurants are trendy, too, and they don’t get much more old school than Euljiro’s Ogu Banjeom. Over 60 years old, the place screams retro, from the red brick and tile facade and old tables and chairs to the ancient heater and the big goldfish tank. The house specialty is the fried dumplings, or gun mandu.
T. 02-2267-0516

Retro Café Trader

This Gangnam café draws in the nostalgia crowd with its cool collection of old gaming consoles, including MSX, classic Nintendo, Super Nintendo, Nintendo 64, Sega Genesis, Game Gear and Neo Geo.
T. 070-8807-6910

Café Huida

Café Huida near Banpo Station does the 1970s with style using vintage items brought from the owner’s grandparents homes in the countryside. It’s a beautiful space, really. Interestingly, this is a milk café, which is to say, it offers a variety of milks. Which is different.
T. 02-6404-9003

Magalet

Mangwon-dong café Magalet looks like a remodeled home or corner store, complete with plastic seats outside and plenty of vintage furnishings. The specialty is its handmade red bean jellies, or yanggaeng, as nostalgic a treat as you’ll ever find.
T.010-7152-9828

Nookseoul

Located in the older Huam-dong neighborhood on the slopes of Mt. Namsan, Nookseoul takes a historical colonial home and turns it into a beautiful guest house with designer furniture and lighting. It’s a lovely combination of old and new.
T. 010-9366-2408

Boseong Stationary Store

Seoul’s oldest stationary store has been in operation for nearly 50 years, almost 30 of which spent in its current location in front of Hyehwa Elementary School for 45 years. You’ll find lots of cool things, including old school uniforms and badges, old school stationary and old school supplies.

Written by SEOUL Staff