The Korea Times

What brings us back to old Seoul

A scarf seller in Namdaemun Market became an online celebrity this autumn by asking customers why they were buying scarves they would never wear. He jokes that they are wasting their money. It is an unusual sales pitch. Much of its charm lies in the conversation. Then success got in the way. The proprietor explained that the crowds were making conversation difficult and inconveniencing neighboring merchants. He asked people to drop in when visiting the market, rather than rush over just to see him. The attention was crowding out the encounters that had drawn it. His predicament raises a question for Seoul’s rediscovered neighborhoods: What turns a first visit into a lasting relationship? Drawing a crowd and becoming part of someone’s life are not the same thing. When I was a child, my parents and grandparents sometimes took me to Jongno and Euljiro. I remember wandering through Pimatgol’s narrow alleys behind Jongno’s main road and browsing the electronics shops of Sewoon Sangga with them. A bowl of "naengmyeon," or Korean cold noodles, in Euljiro is part of those memories, too.

19h agoBy Shin Go-eun

After the Han, a miracle on the Mekong?

Forty years after Vietnam launched Doi Moi, a farmer in Can Tho offers a starting point for considering its next leap. Le Dong Phuong initially doubted that sowing fewer seeds could maintain her rice harvest. According to a 2024 World Bank account, repeated visits to demonstration farms eventually convinced her. Before changing how she worked, she needed evidence that the change would benefit her household. Vietnam’s ambitions are on a different scale. Its 14th Party Congress in January set a target of average annual GDP growth of at least 10 percent for 2026-2030, alongside the goal of becoming a high-income country by 2045. These ambitions invite a familiar Korean question: could a miracle on the Mekong follow the miracle on the Han? I believe Korea’s most useful contribution begins with an honest reading of its own experience. Education, infrastructure and technological learning helped Korean companies raise their competitiveness. Yet success at the top did not automatically produce prosperity throughout the supply chain. These achievements and difficulties are cues Vietnam can t

Oct 29, 2026By Shin Go-eun

The new 'hoesik' wears running shoes

The hardest part of a company dinner used to come before the meal. A junior employee would glance at the clock, wait to hear where the team was going and then calculate the journey home. The invitation might sound casual but saying no was not ok. That was the reality of "hoesik" for many Korean workers — an obligatory meal together that could take ownership of an evening. Colleagues drank together in the name of building trust, while the person who went home early risked looking unfriendly or uncommitted. The meal had rules of its own: You paid attention to where you sat, when you raised your glass and whether your supervisor was ready to leave. Even conversation could feel like part of the job. For some people, those dinners led to friendships that lasted long after they changed workplaces. Others remember watching the hours pass while thinking about the next morning’s commute. Both were true. The problem was how little room there was to choose. Workers have gained more say over time. A team dinner no longer has quite the same claim on everyone’s evening and more people are willi

Oct 1, 2026By Shin Go-eun

Why has walking on a Seoul sidewalk become so complicated?

Lately, one thing about life in Korea has surprised me: walking on a sidewalk no longer feels as straightforward as it once did. I notice it most in the crowded parts of Seoul. Around Gwanghwamun, office workers hurry between buildings while tourists stop mid-stride to take a photo. Gangnam-daero is busy in a different way — workers, shoppers, students and tourists all moving through some of the widest pavement in the city. Even there, I find myself glancing left, then right, then over my shoulder, out of habit now more than choice. A bicycle appears from the side without warning. An electric scooter cuts toward the crowd and slips through whatever gap opens up. A delivery motorcycle rolls onto the pavement and, more often than not, stops exactly where people are trying to walk. The rider can see me. I usually can’t see the rider until it’s too late to do much about it. That gap in awareness is what makes these moments unsettling — there may be just enough room to avoid a collision, but “enough room” and “felt safe” are not the same thing. It isn’t only the busy avenue

Aug 13, 2026By Shin Go-eun

Why has walking on a Seoul sidewalk become so complicated?

Korea, a culture of rooms

When people talk about Korean culture today, they usually begin with what the world can see: K-pop stages, dramas, street food, cosmetics, smartphones, fashion and the restless speed of Seoul. Korea is "energetic, digital, stylish and fast." However, another Korea exists behind this bright image. It is smaller, quieter and more enclosed. It is the Korea of rooms. The Korean word "bang" means room, and it appears everywhere: "PC bang" (internet cafes), "noraebang" (singing rooms), "jjimjilbang" (saunas), "manhwabang" (comic book libraries) and more. These are not minor details of urban life. Much of modern Korea life is not lived in broad public squares but the small rooms rented by the hour, shared with friends or occupied alone. To understand Korea only through its global performances is to miss this hidden architecture of daily life. This room culture grew out of density, competition, limited private space and organized urban life. In crowded cities, where many families live in apartments, commercial rooms become temporary extensions of the self. A PC bang is not simply a place to use a

Jul 6, 2026By Shin Go-eun

After K-food’s global success, a question about health

For many Koreans, the global success of Korean food is more than a business story. It is emotional. It carries memories of home, family, school snacks, street markets, late-night meals and, in many cases, a quiet sense of pride that Korean culture has finally become familiar to people far beyond the peninsula. I still remember how Korean food was first introduced to many international viewers through "Dae Jang Geum," also known as "Jewel in the Palace." In that drama, food was not presented simply. It demonstrated care, discipline, seasonality and devotion. The kitchen was not just a place for cooking. It was a space where knowledge, patience and affection were expressed through ingredients. Since then, the global image of Korean food has changed dramatically. In the 2010s, mukbang videos brought Korean eating culture into the digital world. Later, Korean fried chicken, instant noodles, tteokbokki, bibimbap and kimchi have become familiar to people across the world. Today, it is no longer surprising to see international consumers themselves trying extra-spicy Korean instant noodles or

Jun 25, 2026By Shin Go-eun

After K-food’s global success, a question about health

The right to be alone and the right not to be abandoned

Korea has become remarkably good at making daily life convenient. Food delivery arrives within minutes. Parcels arrive almost before we order. Banking, hospital appointments, shopping and government documents can all be handled on a phone. This convenience is one achievement of Korean urban life, yet in one of the world’s most digitally connected societies, a person can pass through an entire day without speaking to anyone. That is why Seoul’s effort to treat loneliness as a public issue deserves attention. Loneliness should not be dismissed as a personal weakness, a family failure or a private matter that individuals must solve alone. In today’s Korea, it has become part of the social condition itself. In 2024, South Korea had 8.045 million single-person households, accounting for 36.1 percent of all households. Living alone is no longer unusual. It has become one of the country’s most common ways of life. There are many reasons for this change: late marriage, not marrying at all, divorce, aging, migration for work or study, high housing costs and changing ideas about family and

Jun 9, 2026By Shin Go-eun

The right to be alone and the right not to be abandoned

When a film returns, so does a generation

I remember watching "The Devil Wears Prada" in 2006 at a newly opened theater inside a shopping mall in Sinchon, Seoul. At the time, the building itself felt like a symbol of something new. It was sleek, bright and full of anticipation. Going there was not simply about watching a Hollywood film. It felt like stepping into a future that had just arrived. That building still stands today, but it no longer feels the same. Revisiting "The Devil Wears Prada" nearly two decades later produces a similar sentiment. The film has not changed. We have. When the film was first released, many viewers understood it as a story of personal growth. The character of Andy Sachs represented the young professional: uncertain, overwhelmed, intelligent and determined to preserve her sense of self. Her decision to walk away from the world of Runway magazine, symbolized by throwing away her phone, felt like an act of liberation. She seemed to choose personal integrity over professional pressure. Miranda Priestly, by contrast, was often viewed as the embodiment of an unforgiving workplace.She represented a profes

May 10, 2026By Shin Go-eun

When a film returns, so does a generation

Why K-beauty needs broader vision

K-beauty is no longer just about creams, serums and attractive packaging. For many people overseas, it has become one of the most visible ways they encounter Korea. A bottle of sunscreen, facial mask or simple skincare routine can shape how consumers think about Korean products, services and lifestyle. That is why K-beauty should be understood not only as a cosmetics trend, but as part of a wider industry. Its future will depend not only on how many products Korea sells, but also on how well it connects products, services, technology and consumer protection. Consider a foreign visitor who comes to Seoul for a short trip and receives a basic skin consultation or a light cosmetic procedure. In many cases, the experience ends once the visitor leaves the clinic or returns home. But questions often remain: How should the skin be managed afterward? Which ingredients should be avoided? When should the visitor seek further advice? These are not promotional questions. They are practical issues of aftercare, safety and consumer trust. If Korea can build a clearer follow-up system, K-beauty can be

Apr 20, 2026By Shin Go-eun

'KPop Demon Hunters' and power of soft culture

In today’s fast-moving world, one unexpected piece of media has quietly reminded us what culture can really do. "KPop Demon Hunters," a Netflix original animation, has done more than entertain — it has touched hearts across the globe. And perhaps most importantly, it has shown us what power truly looks like in the 21st century. This is not the power of armies or markets. It is the power of beauty, emotion and identity. Across generations and continents, from toddlers in Singapore to elders in Spain, people everywhere are connecting with the film. Its catchy music, colorful animation and heartfelt storytelling resonate with audiences from students to seniors. The characters, especially Rumi and the boy band Saja Boys, are not just animated figures — they’ve become cultural symbols in their own right. But "KPop Demon Hunters" isn’t just a fun story. It’s a cultural mosaic. It weaves together Korean traditional symbols like royal screens, folk paintings and shamanic rituals with modern pop music, anime aesthetics and global storytelling. Viewers around the world are not only wa

Aug 11, 2025By Shin Go-eun

Shin Go-eun