Korean old people rock
A sign hanging inside cafe Silver Made. Photo by David Tizzard
By David Tizzard
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I'm sure all of you reading this know a few. Perhaps white of hair, loud of voice, and often wrinkled in features - yet despite what social media and the never-ending internet neologisms might suggest, I put it to you that Korean old people rock.
One should not forget the Korean elderly people are (in large part) the reason the country exists the way it does today, with its air-conditioners, Samsung Galaxy Note 10s, award-winning filmmakers, high-end department stores, and 24-hour kimbap-selling convenience stores.
The older generation toiled through and endured far more strenuous conditions (politically, economically, and culturally) yet still transformed South Korea from a country mired with poverty and war into the world's 11th largest economy.
It is always devastating to become aware of the fact that despite the Confucian tradition of venerating one's elders, that does not always transfer itself into actuality in a modern globalized 21st century society. Of course, the honourific language remains, but what does a bit of “jon-dem-mal” really matter when you are largely ignored by younger generations and asked to live out of eye-sight so as not to be a burden to those wearing tight shorts and XXXX t-shirts.
A 2016 OECD survey reports that half of those South Koreans over the age of 65 live in poverty - distressing statistics for a nation that has yet to really embrace altruism and charity to those in need.
Moreover, with nascent South Koreans seemingly no longer bound by the filial piety so vehemently espoused by the Confucian analects and embodied in the Chinese character of 'hyo', , a quarter of the elderly live alone.
This creates a great deal of psychological stress, loneliness, and emotional pain for those who suffered through the turmoil of the developmental years of the country. If the civil war between North and South which killed approximately 1.6 million civilians is labeled the “forgotten war” on the western world's bookshelves, then the elderly are surely the “forgotten generation”.
And their way of coping with such abandonment and neglect is sadly to often turn to suicide as the answer. The senior citizens of South Korea are more likely to take their own lives than in any other country of the developed world. An unwelcome record.
In 2017, it was reported that the country's suicide rate was 47.7 deaths for every 100,000 people - more than three times the OECD average and way out in front of second placed Slovenia.
For those that choose to live, dementia is said to affect 13% of the population - and with a rapidly aging population, those afflicted by the symptoms are likely to double every twenty years.
All in all, the picture painted is a pretty grim one. Yet it shouldn't be. And it doesn't need to be.
I've always had a healthy fascination with the elderly of South Korea. They are, for example, far more likely to engage you in a conversation that the oft smartphone-zombified youth.
Some of their views on social issues such as abortion, gay marriage, and presidential elections might be different from yours. They are also, surprisingly to some, far less supportive of the Japanese boycott than the somewhat mollycoddled 20s population.
But it's also worth realizing that when you are old, your views on a whole new set of social issues will likely be different from the emerging society. Elton John might call it the 'circle of life' while Principal Skinner of the Simpsons will deny that it is he that it is out of touch but rather the kids that are wrong.
Nevertheless, the country needs to do more to recognize those that have lived through far more trying times. Not just in policy and finance, but in personality and character. Throwing money at a problem or establishing governmental policies will do little.
Pragmatic and realistic solutions designed to engage with and integrate this forgotten section of the Korean population are needed - ones that begin with internal acceptance; that start from a place not necessarily of just compassion but rather acknowledgement and respect.
I found one this week nestled deep in the hills of Inje, Gangwondo - a county through which the divisive 38 parallel still runs. A coffee shop and bakery called Cafe Silver Made.
Truth be told, we've been buying bread there for a while because it's made to order - requiring customers to place their requests and then come back and collect it at the end of the day.
The quality of the bread far outstrips the sugary junk one often finds in other Parisian-themed outlets and it's a good 50% cheaper, too.
Yet the bread is made and produced by elderly ladies - in their 70s and 80s. They have of course been instructed how to make it by a professional baker, but then after that are left to their own devices to produce the customers' requests each day.
The coffee and drinks are also of the highest quality - fresh ingredients, large iced-cups, and costing no more than 2,000-3,000 won.
What is notable about this venture is that everyone wins. The elderly are given a sense of purpose and responsibility and the customers are given a great deal.
The initiative began in 2010 and each region of the country has a “senior club”. These programs are ultimately designed to help the elderly participate in society.
After undergoing a series of training, businesses are then established according to the needs of the community and aspirations of the members.
In Seodaemun, for example, the senior club has created a side-dish delivery company and a car-cleaning business. In Seongnam, there is a dog-sitting service.
So, next time you are out and about, have a look for a “Senior Club” organization. Or at the very least, have a chat with an elderly person and find out a little bit more about them.
Let's ensure that the elderly of Korea do not become the 'forgotten generation'. And let's remember, that despite some differing social views, Korean old people do - in fact - rock.
David Tizzard (
) is an assistant professor at Seoul Women's University.