Korean media 

South Korea's media industry appears to be much more vibrant and diverse than Australia's. There are 90 daily newspapers and 1,344 weekly newspapers. That includes 11 national daily papers, while we have two - The Australian and the Australian Financial Review. 

A tour of the JTBC station reveals studio after studio filled with dozens of camera crews and production staff, pumping out locally produced television content. In one afternoon, we see the filming of a current affairs interview program, a news bulletin, a comedy panel show, a reality talent show called Hidden Singer and a strange late-night dating program called Witch Girl. Online, there are around 3,000 officially registered news sites. 

It's certainly bigger but not without its issues. In Australia, Google seems like an unstoppable force, but over 70 per cent of South Koreans use a search portal called Naver. It aggregates news content from all over the web but, unlike Google, republishes the entire article, rather than providing a link to the originating website. This is proving to be a copyright headache for online mastheads, as the portals draw traffic away from their own sites, with what the media outlets see as minimal royalty payments for the content used. 

In the short time we were there, it was hard to gain too much insight into the difficulties of reporting in South Korea. It does appear that there is considerable media regulation, and some licensing of media outlets, but the Journalists’ Association of Korea appears to be very active in defending press freedom and its president, Park Chong-Ryul, is also on the executive committee of the International Federation of Journalists.

(The future of television - Crikey Editor Jason Whittaker and ABC reporter Michael Janda watch two different channels on one TV at Samsung headquarters.)

Shooting on the run 

Doing stories while in Korea was an integral part of the exchange, and while our online friend Jason Whittaker from Crikey had it easy with his iPad, we had to take a camera along if we wanted to get some TV stories out of the trip. So Alex and I had a crash course in camerawork the Monday before departing (thank you Nathaniel Harding), and faced serious negotiations at the airport about checking in our tripod bag.

(Reporter Michael Janda capturing the last hour of sunlight at Busan Port Authority.)

While in Korea, we discovered the many 'joys' of shooting your own interviews and overlay: hauling the bulky backpack, tripod and sound bag (thanks for the help Jason); hustling to set up the camera in a featureless boardroom in five minutes before your talent runs to his next meeting; holding up the rest of the group while you get just one more overlay shot; having your camera revert to the wrong white balance mid-shoot; filming 'piece-to-cameras' in the glaring midday sun; having Hyundai bar you from shooting what would have been the most spectacular footage of the whole trip from inside the world’s biggest shipyard (we believe for the protection of commercial secrets); and I could go on, and on…In short, one lesson from the trip was what an excellent job our camera operators do, and how hard it is to replicate the quality of their art. You can see a melange of our shots and stock footage in this story we produced for The Business.

(Reporter Michael Janda filming Producer Alexandra Lee.)  

The lesson for our Korean Press Foundation guides was how frustratingly time-consuming broadcast journalists can be when they’re focussed on getting the best shots for their stories and, for Jason, well Crikey now has an editor who’s an absolute pro at setting up light stands. 

The DMZ twilight zone 

One of our highlights of the trip was the opportunity to visit and film the demilitarised zone between the two Koreas. 250 kilometres long, Korea's demilitarised zone snakes along the 38th parallel, marking the divide between North and South. The most heavily guarded border in the world is only an hour's drive from Seoul, but feels a world away. 

After the initial security checkpoint, our first stop is at Camp Bonifas, a former UN Command post and now home to a gift shop, visitor centre and what is dubbed 'the most dangerous golf course in the world'. Here, a young soldier briefs us about the history of the Korean War with a heavy serving of propaganda.  

We're loaded onto a bus with other members of the media from all over the world and issued with official 'press' armbands. It's my first press armband and I briefly consider pocketing it. We are given strict instructions not to take any photographs. As we drive towards the military demarcation line our guide tells us that the two large concrete slabs on either side of the road are loaded with explosives, which can be detonated in the event of an invasion by the North to block the roads. 

Gesturing out the windows to the lush greenery he tells us that no human has set foot here in sixty years because it is packed with landmines. On the plus side, this means a number of native endangered birds and animals have thrived here - an accidental wildlife sanctuary. I can see how this works for the birds, though I'm not too sure how the deer manage with the one million landmines underfoot.

When we reach the Joint Security Area we're given strict instructions. No waving. No pointing. No laughing. We can now take photos and are told to take all our camera gear out of our bags in case the North Korean soldiers mistake them for concealed weapons. I imagine the headline “ABC Tripod Ignites Korean Missile Strike” and quickly unzip the bags.

(South Korean soldiers at the Joint Security Area.) 

The JSA is the one place where the South Korean soldiers come face to face with their counterparts in the North and is marked by a series of bright blue negotiating huts. No fence here, only armed soldiers in sunglasses standing to attention, completely still. It feels bizarre to have gone through so much security and then to just be able to take one step past a table in one of the huts and find yourself on North Korean soil. 

(The view through binoculars to North Korea.)

We exit the DMZ via the gift shop. In so many ways, it feels set up all for show, a tourist trap, but it’s one of the last remnants of the Cold War, and the divide between North and South Korea is still very real. 

More norebang for your buck 

One striking feature of Korea is the continued suspicion towards Japan, and some simmering ill-feeling as a result of a brutal occupation that lasted from 1910 to the end of World War Two. One manifestation of this latent hostility is a tendency to give anything Japanese a distinctly different Korean name. So, you do not go to karaoke in Korea, but instead to norebang (which translates to sing room). For those of you who like a bit of vocal antics, I think you’ll find many of the so-called karaoke bars in Australia are actually norebangs run by Korean immigrants (in Busan we passed by one called Ding Dong Dang, the name of one of Sydney’s best known venues). 

Our norebang experience took place at a different venue in Busan, although Alex was sadly absent due to a fairly violent, but thankfully short-lived, disagreement with an unidentified element of Korean cuisine. 

After enjoying enough of Korea’s famous BBQ beef to feed half the Ultimo newsroom, plus the requisite soju and beer, we headed across the road and up a narrow staircase, strikingly reminiscent of what you might find in central Sydney. At the top of the stairs we were ushered into a smallish room with two screens, two mics and thousands of songs to choose from (mostly in Korean, but with several hundred in English). 

Memorable highlights were a rousing rendition of 'Piano Man' by the men present, including our venerable Korean Press Foundation host Mr Kim, and a note perfect rendition of Whitney Houston’s 'I Will Always Love You' by our Korean translator Janine. 

South Korea is often overlooked by Australians as a place to visit, live, work and write about. An estimated 200,000 Koreans are in Australia right now, but there are only 10,000 Australians in Korea, despite the fact that our two countries have so much in common. Although the North is intriguing for many journalists, South Korea is a fascinating place in its own right and deserves more of our attention. And that's not just the kimchi* talking.