Young South Koreans call their country āhellā and look for ways out
By Anna Fifield, Washington Post, January 31, 2016
SEOUL--Donāt be fooled by the bright lights, the zingy K-pop music, the ubiquitous technology. South Korea is, in the minds of many young people here, a living hell--and theyāre not going to take it anymore.
Itās a place where, according to a growing number of 20- and 30-somethings, those born with a āgolden spoonā in their mouths get into the best universities and secure the plum jobs, while those born with a ādirt spoonā work long hours in low-paying jobs without benefits.
This Korea even has a special name: āHell Joseonā--a phrase that harks back to the five-century-long Joseon dynasty in which Confucian hierarchies became entrenched in Korea and a feudal system determined who got ahead and who didnāt.
āItās hard to imagine myself getting married and having kids. There is no answer or future for us,ā says Hwang Min-joo, a 26-year-old writer for television shows.
Hwang often goes to work on a Monday morning with her suitcase, not leaving again until Thursday night. She eats at her office, takes a shower at her office, sleeps in bunk beds at her office. āIf I finish work at 9 p.m., thatās a short day,ā she said.
Pay packets come irregularly--or not at all, if the show gets axed--and because she doesnāt have a contract, Hwang wonders when she goes to sleep each night if sheāll still have a job in the morning. She can only make this life work by living at home with her parents--when she goes home, that is.
āIf you have enough money, South Korea is a great place to live. But if you donāt...ā she trails off.
Such complaints are common among Hwangās generation. Their parents lived through South Koreaās astonishing economic rise during the 1960s and ā70s, then saw democracy arrive in the ā80s. But those born after that period of rapid improvement see only the downside: megalithic businesses that provide status and good pay for their employees, with everyone else just muddling through.
Since the 2008 financial crisis, many people around the world have lost jobs, homes, hopes. But in South Korea, such losses are felt especially acutely because of the sharp contrast with the heady days of industrialization.
The economy is sputtering--growth slowed to 2.6 percent last year--and its slide has been accompanied by an increase in āirregularā jobs that offer no security and no benefits, a trend felt keenly by those trying to get on the job ladder. Almost two-thirds of the young people who got jobs last year became irregular workers, according to Korea Labor Institute figures.
Even people at the conglomerates are feeling the pinch, with big names like Samsung, Hyundai and Doosan laying off workers or calling for early retirement.
Amid the gloom, more and more young Koreans are taking to social networks to complain about their plight.
Thereās a Hell Joseon group on Facebook that boasts more than 5,000 members and a dedicated āHell Koreaā website that posts graphic after graphic to illustrate the awful state of life in South Korea: the long working hours, the high suicide rate and even the high price of snacks.
Numerous online forums offer advice on ways to escape. Some help South Koreans apply to the U.S. military, a move that can offer a fast track to U.S. citizenship. Others offer advice on training programs for aspiring welders, a skill that is reportedly in demand in the United States and Canada.
And itās not just an Internet phenomenon. Novelist Jang Kang-myungās āBecause I Hate South Koreaā--a fictional work about a young woman who emigrated to Australia--shot to the top of bestseller lists last year.
When writer Son A-ram published a piece titled āThe Declaration of a Ruined Stateā in the Kyunghyang newspaper, it quickly went viral.
āIf my life continues this way, I donāt really see much of a future,ā says Lee Ga-hyeon, a 22-year-old whoās taken time off law studies to work at a union for part-time workers. āIn South Korea, āpart-timeā means working full-time hours at the minimum wage.ā
While she was studying, Lee worked at McDonaldās and then at a bakery chain, often working six hours a day, five days a week, in addition to studying full-time. The rent on her āshoe-box-sizeā room cost almost half her monthly earnings of $450.
āI want to become a certified labor lawyer so that I can help others in similar circumstances,ā she said.
Not that those with more stable jobs are much happier. In this working culture, 14-hour days are the norm. In 2012, a left-leaning presidential candidate ran on the slogan: āA life with evenings.ā
Most frustrating of all, many young people say, is that their parents, who worked long hours to build the āKorean dream,ā think the answer is just to put in more effort.