Seoul South Korea: Cultural Diversity Arouses Curiosity

Modern conveniences appear to clash with historic South Korean culture in age of prosperity

It was autumn, the best season to be in the Republic of Korea. Trees lining the wide streets of Seoul had painted the canvas of the city a glorious spectrum of oranges and reds. It was a perfect day for being outdoors.

I went to see Kyongbok Palace in downtown Seoul. As I strolled in the crisp October air, admiring the 600-year-old temple complex, suddenly, I was distracted.

A huge LCD television screen mounted atop a commercial building outside the perimeter of the palace grounds was streaming a relentless series of advertisements. My first emotion was repulsion, and I wondered why they’d build such an abomination next to such a beautiful palace.

Then I began to question this phenomenon more deeply. Is it that Korean customs and traditions are slowly being eaten away by spiraling westernization, or is a harmonious cultural symbiosis of the old and the new at the heart of South Korean prosperity?

I decided to find out more.

I went north of the Han River to Insadong, an ancient cobbled street lined with art galleries, antique shops, and teahouses. Only a few minutes away, in contrast to the tranquility of Insadong, is the modern centre of Chongno Street, an urban metropolis, which bustles with business and activity among a constant stream of pedestrians. I wondered if this geographical marriage of tradition and modernity would carry over to a more individual level.

As I walked the promenade in Insadong, I noticed a Buddhist monk standing alone in an alley. There was nothing remarkable about this, as it is common to see Buddhist monks walking along the bazaars in Insadong due to the proximity of Chogesa Temple. But the monk I saw was talking on a mobile phone. I thought back to the LCD screen towering behind Kyongbok Palace. Here was more evidence of a comfortable amalgamation between the old and the new: a Buddhist monk on a cell phone.

Tearooms in Insadong serve a variety of traditional teas and local snacks. In one of these tearooms, I sat drinking pomegranate tea and eating rice cake, and soon began talking to a Korean woman who had been living in Seoul for five years.

She explained it is common in Korea for higher-ranking monks to use devices such as mobile phones and computers, “as it is essential for the management of temples and religious events.”

In hindsight, it is not much of a surprise in such a technological and business-oriented society.

I returned to thoughts of the geography of Seoul and began considering how natural and urban landscapes interact, and whether a culture clash is similarly evident. I went to the Han River Park and hired a bicycle to peruse the area. The park is covered with fields, gardens and sporting areas, all running along the Han River.

Although one feels among nature in the park, one can never really escape the looming skyscrapers and apartment complexes of the city. I sat in a garden looking at the concrete city blocks, I did begin to see some beauty in what I had previously considered an eyesore.

Thinking back to my conversation in the Insadong teahouse, the Korean resident had told me that Seoul city planners purposefully molded the landscape of the city to create a balance between the old and the new.

What you see in the city then are evidently not the random effects of progress, but that of years of careful planning. This is utilitarianism at its most extreme, and the approach does seem to make the best of an increasingly multifaceted culture.

Having found some answers to my earlier questions, I returned my rented bicycle and was about to go home when I heard the beating of drums and the voice of native song. I went to investigate and found a party of Koreans in traditional clothes, dancing and singing to the beat of the drums.

The event was in the middle of a field next to the Han River and the concrete blocks loomed, ever present, behind us. But for once, I did not avert my eyes. This time, the nature, the cityscape, the traditional dancing and the neon lights, all merged into something far more comfortable.

Present day Seoul is something of a cultural chimera, but somehow, after a while, it works.

Author: Jason Gaskell