my timesThe Korea Times

Cheong Wa Dae insider's essay offers glimpse into life inside Korea's presidential office

Listen
Cheong Wa Dae is seen before it was opened to the public in this file photo, June 24, 2021. Korea Times photo by Wang Tae-seok

Cheong Wa Dae is seen before it was opened to the public in this file photo, June 24, 2021. Korea Times photo by Wang Tae-seok

'Behind the Blue House: The People of Cheong Wa Dae ' / Courtesy of Kang Seung-ji

"Behind the Blue House: The People of Cheong Wa Dae " / Courtesy of Kang Seung-ji

As Korea’s former presidential compound Cheong Wa Dae prepares to resume its role as the official seat of power, a new memoir by a longtime employee offers an intimate look at the rhythms and rituals under its blue-tiled roofs.

In May 2022, then-newly elected President Yoon Suk Yeol relocated the presidential office to Yongsan District in Seoul, vacating Cheong Wa Dae — also known as the Blue House for its distinct blue tiles — for the first time in decades. The iconic compound was opened to the public, drawing crowds of visitors eager to explore the once-exclusive site.

Now, with President Lee Jae Myung announcing his plan to reinstate the office at Cheong Wa Dae soon after his election in June, preparations are underway to return to the complex. Public tours are winding down and renovations are set to begin in August.

Leading up to this transfer, Kang Seung-ji, a Cheong Wa Dae employee of seven years, published a candid account of her time inside the compound. Her book, "Behind the Blue House: The People of Cheong Wa Dae," captures the unseen work and humane moments behind the scenes.

The 213-page book sheds light on the intricate, layered machinery that supports the presidency — a chain of early-morning meetings, meticulous protocols and tireless coordination.

For the 9 a.m. report to the president,
at 8:20, the three chiefs and secretaries meet to review the state of affairs.
For the 8:20 meeting,
at 7:30, 12 chiefs and other secretaries gather to prepare.
For the 7:30 meeting,
at 6:50, 49 secretaries and administrators are already seated in the conference room.
Since the meeting materials don’t prepare themselves,
at 6 a.m., the administrative staff turn on the office lights.

Kang Seung-ji

Kang’s account goes beyond routines and introduces readers to some of the more unusual tasks at Cheong Wa Dae such as cleaning and ironing flags for visiting dignitaries.

“The Korean flag and the foreign flag! All the cloth pieces, prepared in identical size and length, were pulled taut without a single mistake. [An official] spreads the flags on the floor and slowly, meticulously irons them. It looked like he was trying not to leave even the slightest wrinkle.”

Another task requiring great care is art curation for the compound.

“The painting behind the signature stand is especially tricky. It appears in the very first photograph taken of the president and a foreign guest — so it must convey a message even more precisely than art in other spaces. The painting becomes the face of the space and the beginning of a conversation.”

Kang also reflects on the role of the presidential photographer.

“There was a depth to his gaze toward the president that I hadn’t noticed before. Photographing a single person may seem simple, but in truth, he captured dozens of expressions in a single day. Every day, he encountered the many faces that coexist within one person.”

The book also gives readers a taste of the presidential compound’s comfort food, including a surprising highlight: ramyeon (instant noodles).

“On mornings when the president went on overseas trips, ramyeon was always served. It became an unofficial special on days without formal schedules — a long-standing tradition. I used to arrive 30 minutes early just to enjoy a bowl. Every time I lifted the noodles with my chopsticks, I smiled and thought, ‘This is why I love working here.’”

In 2022, the inauguration of President Yoon brought a deep tremor to Kang’s personal and professional life. The familiar presidential office under the blue roof was vacated and repurposed for public visits, leaving her with a sense of loss.


“To many, it may just look like a change of space. But to me, it felt like an entire era I had worked so hard to build had vanished. It was as if my life was being shaken by Cheong Wa Dae.”

She eventually sought counseling and her counselor told her, “Cheong Wa Dae is not you. Separate yourself from the space.”

So how does the author feel as the compound prepares to return to its original function?

She remains cautious but quietly hopeful.

“Before it symbolized power to me, Cheong Wa Dae was a place filled with moments shared by the people who protected it and lived here. I hope the stories of this place will continue to begin with ‘small stories,’ not just grand narratives. I hope the Cheong Wa Dae remains a space that remembers people.”