K-wave at its peak

March 21, a Saturday, perfectly captured the dual spirit of modern Korea — a nation grounded in the pragmatic values of the past, yet standing at the pinnacle of global soft power.

The day began with a practical errand. As we are good friends, I accompanied Mrs. Leiko, the wife of the Hungarian ambassador to Korea, to Jongno 3-ga and Jongno 5-ga, areas in Seoul renowned for their dense labyrinth of gold shops. She had recently had a gold crown removed from a wisdom tooth, and, given the staggering rise in gold prices, we hoped it might fetch a fair price.

Upon arrival, I realized the tooth was only part of the story. She had also brought necklaces, rings and bracelets. Her decision reflected a shift in generational values. Once, she had imagined passing these pieces down as heirlooms; now, she felt modern children might find them outdated. Rather than leaving behind unused objects, she chose to convert them into cash, giving her children the freedom to shape their own futures. I was surprised when the modest collection totaled more than 10 million won — a reminder that the global fascination with gold as a store of value remains strong.

Then, we moved to the quieter charm of Insa-dong. Seated in the courtyard of a traditional tea house, we sipped "omija" tea beneath the gentle spring sun, surrounded by the understated elegance of Korean galleries. The calm proved fleeting. As we approached Gwanghwamun Station, we were met by police officers and volunteers urging pedestrians to turn back. Gyeongbok Palace and nearby subway stations were being closed to manage an unprecedented surge of visitors.

The reason soon became clear: BTS, one of the world's most popular K-pop groups, was scheduled to play a free performance that evening in Gwanghwamun Square. Its global fan base, known as ARMY, had descended upon Seoul. Intrigued, I spent the afternoon exploring nearby galleries and purchasing a silver ring and a few accessories as keepsakes of the day. The streets themselves felt like a living canvas — international visitors dressed in traditional Korean hanbok, their colorful garments blending seamlessly with modern fashion.

By the time the concert concluded and I attempted to approach the square, the scale of the gathering was overwhelming. Thousands upon thousands — young and old, Korean and foreign — were united by the fantastic music. In that moment, I felt the full weight of Korea’s cultural reach. The performance was especially symbolic: BTS centered the concert around “Arirang,” the traditional folk song that embodies the Korean spirit. Through this, they bridged past and present, tradition and innovation.

It felt like standing at the summit of a long ascent. From Han Kang’s Nobel Prize in Literature and her recent U.S. National Book Critics Circle award for "We Do Not Part," to the global rise of Korean cinema and historical dramas, the world is finally recognizing what Koreans have long understood. As I walked away from the lingering cheers, I felt a quiet pride. Korea today is no longer defined solely by economic vitality. It has become a cultural powerhouse, proving that what is most Korean is, indeed, most universal.

Shin Hye-suk (sinesu@naver.com), who also goes by Shindy, completed a doctorate in sociology and has devoted two decades of her life to academic pursuits at a university in Japan. She is also a florist and currently serves as an adviser to the Seoul JoongAng Rotary Club International, Korea.