![]() |
Gettyimagesbank |
By Scott Shepherd
![]() |
Perhaps inevitably, this "ppali ppali" (quickly quickly) culture places a very high value on coffee. The result can be seen in every street of the densely-populated cities, including my own neighborhood. There are two cafes in the building where I live and at least half a dozen more within a minute's walk. My local coffee shop is open so late that I can sip an iced soy-milk caramel macchiato there long after the neighboring burger joint has closed for the night.
The country's extraordinary rate of coffee consumption is, for me, a symbol of Korea's passion for hard work. Coffee has a lot going for it: it stimulates the senses, staves off sleep and keeps you working longer. I certainly drink a lot more coffee now that I live in Korea than at any other point in my life. The ppali ppali life, it seems, is contagious.
Indeed, an attitude demanding hard work and fast results has been vital for the country's survival. South Korea's astonishing growth from the poor, war-ravaged country of the 1950s into the cultural and economic powerhouse it is now is the envy of the developing world, an inspirational lesson of what a national spirit of hard work and co-operation can do. Such a transformation would surely have been impossible without the ppali ppali attitude of Koreans working long hours and making great personal sacrifices for the good of the country.
This rapid development, however, came at a price. Korea's social problems have come to be expressed as "Hell Joseon," a term that encapsulates the pressures of living in such a competitive society where everything from education to entering the job market is a hectic race, a desperate competition.
Recently, COVID-19 has been adding even more stress to the lives of many Koreans. Yet while the huge shifts brought about by the coronavirus have in the main been pretty awful, there is a silver lining. The pandemic has allowed many to reassess their priorities and ask whether it is really necessary to come home from work at midnight every day.
I want to suggest that we go a little easier on the coffee. Thanks to the hard work and sacrifice of previous generations, young Koreans can now afford to take things a little slower. Today's graduates will, it is true, face a tough job market. But so has every generation since the dawn of humanity. At no graduation speech in history has the speaker been able to look the graduates in the eye and honestly say things will be easy.
But that does not mean we must live lives void of rest, working from dawn to dusk and only seeing family during the Chuseok and New Year's holidays. The time has come to shift away from the ppali ppali coffee-guzzling lifestyle towards a calmer life with more rest and more peace. And let me assure you: there is no drink in the world more soothing than a cup of tea.
Tea sellers often promote its medicinal properties, but I am skeptical of most of their claims and more importantly, I do not care whether they are true. Drinking tea is about a slower lifestyle. It is about taking a minute to relax, to breathe.
Even the process of making a cup of tea is a soothing ritual. Instead of the grating screech of grinding coffee beans, you hear the bubbling of a kettle and the whisper of a tea bag as it drops into the mug; the gentle splish of flowing milk rather than the frantic scream of a foamer.
And what a startling and delightful variety of tea there is. Koreans, when they do drink tea, mainly stick to native barley or green tea, or a sweetened fruit variety. Admittedly, these are delicious, but there is so much more. If you ever get the chance to go to Britain after the pandemic ends, spend a while looking around the tea shops of central London. The shelves are stocked with exotic flavors and colors from all over the world: black or brown, red, yellow or green, even blue or purple, from herbal, scented and fruity teas to strange flowers, from North African minty varieties to Chinese oolong and pu-erh, from English rose to Russian caravan to spiced Indian chai.
Rather than ppali ppali, sometimes things are better done "cheoncheonhi" (slowly). Life is not a race. Hard work is vital; we can certainly feel gratitude to those who worked so hard and made this country so rich. But a life of constant work with no rest is not a life at all. Why not take the opportunity offered by this terrible pandemic to rethink our priorities? Let's rush less, take things a little more slowly; drink a little less coffee and a lot more tea.
It is true, freshly-ground coffee does smell great, much better than tea. But while coffee excites, tea soothes. And of the two, what we need right now is peace and calm, not frantic energy. A nice cup of tea may not fix all the world's problems, but it is definitely a good place to start.
Dr. Scott Shepherd is a British-American academic. He has taught in universities in the U.K. and Korea, and is Assistant Professor of English at Chongshin University, Seoul.