By Park Moo-jong
Tomorrow is the first "genuine" day of 2021, the Year of the Ox, in the lunar calendar observed in many Asian countries, including China, South Korea and Vietnam. South Koreans celebrate the Lunar New Year holiday or "seollal" with a three-day holiday beginning today.
Seollal used to be the season of going home for family reunions, particularly between children working in big cities and their parents living in rural villages, with a traditional exodus of more than 20 million people making trips homeward.
With gifts in their hands ― though small ― and some cash in their wallets, people travel to their hometowns to see their parents, relatives and friends, and to pay respects to their ancestors together in a ritual called "charye" on the morning of Lunar New Year's Day.
Yet, we are now living in a quite different world that we have never experienced due to the vicious COVID-19 pandemic.
What was the traditional landscape of the seollal of bygone years like?
Every year there used to be a war to book tickets for buses, trains, boats or planes, before they all sold out a few months prior to the holiday. Bumper-to-bumper traffic meant that traveling by car took twice or three times as long as usual.
TV stations were so busy relaying live the traffic conditions across the nation, as broadcasters announced updates, "As of 10 a.m., it will take eight hours from Seoul to Busan ..." Even stranded in their cars, many people were still happy because their parents and friends were waiting at their destination.
People were also happy preparing food to be placed on the table as an offering to their ancestors. The charye begins with a deep bow, a sign of respect and praying for the well-being of all family members, followed by a big family feast featuring the eating of "tteokguk," which is sliced (from a long stick of cylindrical rice cake symbolizing longevity) rice cake soup in beef bone broth, believed to add a year to one's age.
The highlight ― at least for children ― of the day followed, with the kids bowing deeply with clasped hands ― called "sebae" ― to elders, who in return gave them an envelope stuffed with cash and words of blessing ("deokdam").
All these celebrated yearly routines are gone now. The fear of the pandemic has changed everything.
The government's strict social distancing rules "to deter the spread of the deadly virus," have been forcing people to stay home, even banning private gatherings of five or more.
The measure even applies to family members who do not live together in the same house. A young couple with a child cannot go together to visit the house of the child's grandparents, as that would make it an illegal gathering of five people in total.
Contributing to the coining of a new Konglish word, "untact," which means without physical contact, the social distancing rule forces people to resort to video calls through their smartphone. Children do sebae to their grandpas and grandmas on screen, saying "Happy New Year," and the elders give the "sebae don" ― or money ― for bowing via online banking.
Alas, those who do not follow the five-person rule can be fined up to 100,000 won (about $90) per person. Yet, is it possible for the government to check every family gathering?
The rule is ridiculous in some aspects. A funny example is: eight members of a family go out for a dinner. They are not allowed to enjoy dinner at one table under the five-person rule. To faithfully abide by the rule, they should be separated into two groups.
However, the social landscape of the Lunar New Year is ever-changing. Money and stress are the main aspects responsible for the new picture. Many young people feel pressured by the financial burden of gifts for parents and preparations for the holiday. Nearly 80 percent of wage earners questioned said they felt "uncomfortable."
About 40 percent of them even said they would prefer not to go home due to the expenses. Just a cell phone call is good these days for many. It is unfortunate to confirm that this holiday, which used to seem full of warm heartedness and affection, is rapidly becoming an economic burden instead.
The COVID-19 pandemic, in this sense, might be a good and lucky excuse for some to avoid going home during this Lunar New Year holiday season. A poll showed that three out of four Seoul residents do not intend to visit their hometowns or travel long distances, staying safely at home during the holiday so as not to fall victim to the virus.
What used to seem quite natural in the bygone days appears to be natural no more today. We did not acknowledge that the routines of the past were so precious because they were too natural. I am still missing the days when we bowed to elders, received cash and paid tribute to our ancestors to enjoy the New Year's Day holiday.
I hope we can restart our daily routines soon without fear of the pandemic. Happy New Year!
Park Moo-jong (emjei29@gmail.com) is a standing adviser of The Korea Times. He served as the president-publisher of the nation's first English daily newspaper from 2004 to 2014 after working as a reporter since 1974.
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Seollal used to be the season of going home for family reunions, particularly between children working in big cities and their parents living in rural villages, with a traditional exodus of more than 20 million people making trips homeward.
With gifts in their hands ― though small ― and some cash in their wallets, people travel to their hometowns to see their parents, relatives and friends, and to pay respects to their ancestors together in a ritual called "charye" on the morning of Lunar New Year's Day.
Yet, we are now living in a quite different world that we have never experienced due to the vicious COVID-19 pandemic.
What was the traditional landscape of the seollal of bygone years like?
Every year there used to be a war to book tickets for buses, trains, boats or planes, before they all sold out a few months prior to the holiday. Bumper-to-bumper traffic meant that traveling by car took twice or three times as long as usual.
TV stations were so busy relaying live the traffic conditions across the nation, as broadcasters announced updates, "As of 10 a.m., it will take eight hours from Seoul to Busan ..." Even stranded in their cars, many people were still happy because their parents and friends were waiting at their destination.
People were also happy preparing food to be placed on the table as an offering to their ancestors. The charye begins with a deep bow, a sign of respect and praying for the well-being of all family members, followed by a big family feast featuring the eating of "tteokguk," which is sliced (from a long stick of cylindrical rice cake symbolizing longevity) rice cake soup in beef bone broth, believed to add a year to one's age.
The highlight ― at least for children ― of the day followed, with the kids bowing deeply with clasped hands ― called "sebae" ― to elders, who in return gave them an envelope stuffed with cash and words of blessing ("deokdam").
All these celebrated yearly routines are gone now. The fear of the pandemic has changed everything.
The government's strict social distancing rules "to deter the spread of the deadly virus," have been forcing people to stay home, even banning private gatherings of five or more.
The measure even applies to family members who do not live together in the same house. A young couple with a child cannot go together to visit the house of the child's grandparents, as that would make it an illegal gathering of five people in total.
Contributing to the coining of a new Konglish word, "untact," which means without physical contact, the social distancing rule forces people to resort to video calls through their smartphone. Children do sebae to their grandpas and grandmas on screen, saying "Happy New Year," and the elders give the "sebae don" ― or money ― for bowing via online banking.
Alas, those who do not follow the five-person rule can be fined up to 100,000 won (about $90) per person. Yet, is it possible for the government to check every family gathering?
The rule is ridiculous in some aspects. A funny example is: eight members of a family go out for a dinner. They are not allowed to enjoy dinner at one table under the five-person rule. To faithfully abide by the rule, they should be separated into two groups.
However, the social landscape of the Lunar New Year is ever-changing. Money and stress are the main aspects responsible for the new picture. Many young people feel pressured by the financial burden of gifts for parents and preparations for the holiday. Nearly 80 percent of wage earners questioned said they felt "uncomfortable."
About 40 percent of them even said they would prefer not to go home due to the expenses. Just a cell phone call is good these days for many. It is unfortunate to confirm that this holiday, which used to seem full of warm heartedness and affection, is rapidly becoming an economic burden instead.
The COVID-19 pandemic, in this sense, might be a good and lucky excuse for some to avoid going home during this Lunar New Year holiday season. A poll showed that three out of four Seoul residents do not intend to visit their hometowns or travel long distances, staying safely at home during the holiday so as not to fall victim to the virus.
What used to seem quite natural in the bygone days appears to be natural no more today. We did not acknowledge that the routines of the past were so precious because they were too natural. I am still missing the days when we bowed to elders, received cash and paid tribute to our ancestors to enjoy the New Year's Day holiday.
I hope we can restart our daily routines soon without fear of the pandemic. Happy New Year!
Park Moo-jong (emjei29@gmail.com) is a standing adviser of The Korea Times. He served as the president-publisher of the nation's first English daily newspaper from 2004 to 2014 after working as a reporter since 1974.
