Korea Encounters Yeontan briquettes opened windows while warming homes
An unwanted Christmas gift of a yeontan coal briquette, printed in The Korea Times on Dec. 26, 1965. / Korea Times archive
By Matt VanVolkenburg
As perceptions of increasing atmospheric fine dust lead to worries over air quality and drive people indoors, it should be recognized that this is a distinct reversal from daily life in the 1960s, 1970s and 1980s. At that time, no matter how cold winters got, people kept windows open due to fear of carbon monoxide poisoning.
The main cause of this poisoning was “yeontan,” the cylindrical briquettes made of coal dust and clay used to heat homes. Convenient and necessary at a time when urbanization and deforestation had removed sources of wood, its use surged in the late 1950s. When used as the source of heat in the underfloor heating system, or “ondol,” tiny cracks in floors could allow carbon monoxide to escape and led to thousands of cases of poisoning annually.
The briquettes were considered a daily necessity in winter, particularly because they were cheaper than oil or electricity. A 1964 Korea Times article noted that 10,000 tons of yeontan were used daily in Seoul, and indeed one of the main goals of Korea's coal mines was to feed this growing demand. The same article lauded the “enormous convenience” it gave to Korean housewives but also noted the irony that many of those poisoned by yeontan gas were housewives who spent their days indoors.
Reports in winter regularly described the deaths of entire families. Such tragedies became a common occurrence, though the 1971 yeontan poisoning deaths of five teenage boys and girls from rich families, which occurred while sleeping off a night of drinking when they said they would be studying, offered an implicit morality tale for readers.
At the height of its use, hundreds of American Peace Corps Volunteers served in Korea, and the February 1968 issue of their newsletter, “Yobosayo,” warned of this potential threat: “Winter is potentially the most dangerous season of the year” because it was “fraught with the hazards of potential carbon monoxide poisoning.”
The article advised that “rooms with yeontan ondol floors must be adequately ventilated and this means at two points in the room (two open windows or an open door and an open window).” To illustrate this point, it told the story of a Korean nurse who awoke with symptoms of yeontan poisoning despite taking precautions. “Investigation into the matter brought out the fact that the grandmother in the family had innocently closed the door to the room while the occupants were sleeping, thus leaving only one source of ventilation, an open window.”
In 1976 an American medical officer was quoted in The Korea Times warning Americans “living on the economy” or staying in hostels to “make sure the room has adequate ventilation even if it means chillier living quarters. Believe me, you'll be a lot colder if you inhale a toxic dose of carbon monoxide.”
A 1973 Korea Times article quantified the toll carbon monoxide poisoning had taken over the previous 15 years. According to the Korea Medical Association, “518,280 persons throughout the country have suffered yeontan gas poisoning since 1959. Among them, 24,990 persons have died.”
Despite this negative legacy, the ubiquity of the coal briquettes made them part of Korean society of those years in various ways. The burnt-out husks were stacked outside houses and were crushed and used to cover icy paths. Children sometimes prematurely kicked these stacks to powder and then ran away, or rolled the cylinders in the snow to help make bigger snowmen.
The spread of natural gas and water pipe-based ondol in the 1990s led to a drastic decrease in yeontan use, and today a minority of homes use it. While some galbi restaurants use yeontan to heat the grills, this does not always please everyone. At such a restaurant in a neighborhood where I used to live, nostalgia had to compete with the more pressing demands of nearby apartment dwellers who complained about the smoke.
Matt VanVolkenburg has a master's degree in Korean studies from the University of Washington. He is the blogger behind
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