Filipinos turn Hongdae venue into home away from home

In western Seoul’s vibrant Hongdae neighborhood, a celebration of Filipino music and culture transformed a live music venue into a space where the community felt closer to home.

Filipinos across Seoul gathered at Rabbit Hall, the basement live music venue at White Rabbit bistro and wine bar in Mapo District on Sept. 26 for its first Filipino Night. Home to frequent open mics, the stage was set for something a bit different.

The show opened with a traditional Mindanaoan dance called “Pangalay,” performed by Filipino artist Nicky Juanite, the brains behind the event, accompanied by Kyle Abraham, a Filipino American dancer and choreographer.

“We wanted to bless this space before we start the show,” Juanite said after the opening performance that set the tone for the evening.

What followed was a quintessentially Filipino sight — and sound. Performers treated the audience to English and Tagalog karaoke favorites, as well as Korean ballad songs. The audience, as one may expect from a typical karaoke session in the Philippines, sang the lyrics right back with as much volume and soul as the performers on stage.

For White Rabbit owner Seung Moon Choe, or Moon, a night centered on Filipino talent was bound to be fun.

“I already knew they know how to enjoy their lives. That’s what I really admire about the Filipino people,” he told The Korea Times.

He recalled an experience of attending a K-pop concert in the Philippines, where fans are known to be among the most passionate and liveliest.

“I think this event was one of the best in my opinion, and I knew that already because I went to many K-pop concerts here and there, and then when I went to Bulacan … it was a totally different vibe,” he said, referring to a Philippine province that is home to one of the biggest concert venues in the country.

“That’s why I already knew they would have lots of fun here. No surprise to me,” he added.

In true Filipino fashion, the event was peppered with local references that drew laughter from the audience, fostering a closeness even among those who met for the first time that night.

At one point, an impromptu round of a popular game played at Filipino gatherings and children’s parties offered both comic relief and nostalgia. Dubbed locally as the “longest breath game,” it tests even the strongest lungs, with contestants asked to say a phrase in one, continuous breath.

Another uniquely Filipino moment came during a short lull before magician Kim Ji-wan closed the event, when the venue was suddenly filled with a Christmas song singalong, recreating the holiday atmosphere that comes months early back home.

Considered to be world's longest, the Christmas season in the Philippines, where the majority of the population is Catholic, spans what is locally called the “ber months” — from September through December.

“It’s always Christmas when you’re with Filipinos,” one of the hosts quipped.

For Princess Rai, president of Pinoy Iskolars sa Korea, the event offered an opportunity for students to showcase their talents, which would otherwise remain untapped due to the demands of schoolwork.

“One of the trademarks of being a Filipino is the artistry. We have all these fresh talents that we barely see because we’re overwhelmed with academics,” she told The Korea Times.

“I think this was a very great platform to showcase our talent and also bring a sense of community to our members and also nonmembers, of course. We had foreigners as well who came and saw the performances,” Rai added.

Filipino connections

Juanite, who has led numerous events not only at Rabbit Hall but at several other locations for independent artists across Seoul, felt the need to hold one to celebrate her own community.

“I’ve been doing it all for different expats, different nationalities and different embassies, and I’m like ‘I haven’t done anything for Filipinos yet,’” she said.

“I looked at the followers of White Rabbit, there’s a lot of Filipinos and every time I’m here, I hear Filipinos laughing, enjoying their meal. I wanted to do something for Filipinos. It’s also been a project that I’ve always wanted to do for a long time,” she added.

When Juanite approached Moon about her idea, the White Rabbit owner was quick to give the go-signal.

“I loved that idea, so we did it. Sure enough, there was so much fun,” he said.

Beyond what Moon knew about the lively Filipino spirit is a previous personal connection that was revived 20 years later, when he posted about the event on social media.

“When my children were young, we had a nanny. She's from the Philippines. When I posted this event on Instagram, for the first time, she messaged me. I didn’t know who she was. And then, she called me by my old English name, which only a few know. So I checked her profile and sure enough, she was our nanny. I said hello to her,” he said.

“So somehow, I got kind of a good relationship with the people from the Philippines. From last year also, we started to get a lot of guests from the Philippines,” he added, pointing to a wall of magnets inside the building’s first-floor restaurant, half of which were from the Philippines.

More events in, outside Seoul

Juanite said she hopes to hold a similar event to celebrate the stories of Filipino workers in Korea.

“I‘m really inspired tonight, I want to create another one. I’m excited to reach out to our EPS Filipino workers,” she said, referring to Filipinos working in Korea under a government-to-government employment permit system for industries like agriculture, fishing and manufacturing.

“They’re the main hard workers here, the people sending remittances back to our country ... I would love to have time in the future to create an event for them as well,” she added.

Sem Pabion, a Filipino filmmaker whose works have been featured in festivals in Busan, China and the U.K., saw the event not only as a way to pull the Filipino community closer together but also as a platform to showcase Filipino talent beyond singing.

Pabion was among the featured Filipinos for the event, where his film was scheduled for screening. A technical issue, however, led to an unplanned performance in which he sang one of the crowd favorites of the night.

“This is an amazing night and I hope the second installment, I hope all of my films will be shown here so that they will be introduced to the Filipino audience, not just through the festivals I’ve been a part of,” he told The Korea Times.

“I would like to believe that my films are for a global audience but also, of course ... I would love to have the opportunity to show it to Filipino audiences and I think the Filipino Night here at White Rabbit will be a great platform for that,” Pabion said.

The night ended on an energetic note, with strangers exchanging contact details and old friends looking to continue catching up through another round of drinks.

But underneath the lively sound coming from the basement venue, lies a deeper longing for something familiar.

“There’s a lot of Filipinos who miss their family … So in hard times ... we could celebrate each other as a family. That’s how the Filipino Night came to be,” Juanite said.

“Nights like this, for me, are very important because we get to be together as a community. It’s very hard … to go to a foreign country and have no sense of community. But here, sharing the same music, the same talent is such a great way for us to build our community even here,” Aya Nacionales, a graduate student and one of the night's performers, told The Korea Times.

As Korea wrapped up Chuseok festivities, Filipinos celebrated in a way most familiar to them: singing along to karaoke favorites, meeting strangers who will eventually become friends and sharing laughter with people who make the miles away from home feel shorter.