Learning to Love the ‘One Room’
Song-so, Daegu
For a long time, I hated referring to my Korean accommodation as a ‘one-room’ and other terms I used to substitute it were either misunderstood or didn’t seem quite right. Koreans use the word ‘apartment’ in relation to the high-rise accommodation in which most live and it is rare to hear the word ‘house’ as so few of them exist. The houses you do find, often in the country or sandwiched between taller, city buildings are usually traditional or luxury versions. Apartments are associated with high-rises and though they can be pokey and small, especially in parts of Seoul where space is the most expensive, they are often extremely spacious. I clearly do not live in an ‘apartment.’ For awhile I used the term ‘studio-room’ or ‘studio-flat’ and though a few of my English-speaking Korean friends understood this, many others didn’t and personally, it didn’t seem appropriate. I have this notion that studio flats are grand, exclusive and the preferred accommodation of artists and opera singers.
My barred one-room, Daegu 2003
Finding a suitable term to describe my accommodation, without using ‘one-room’, was difficult. ‘One-room’ seems such a pathetic term to use especially when you are anything over forty and invokes the same resonance in Korea as, ‘unmarried,’ ‘living-alone’ or being ‘childless,’ and in the UK, as the word bed sit. What a ghastly word! What shame it invokes! ‘Bedsits’ are the domains of the unemployed, of single people, those on low wages or youngsters just starting out in life. They are always gloomy, lit by yellowey lights and with stairs that creak, and then there’s the gas meter and dingy bedding of blankets, sheets, and quilt because the ‘bedsit’ is a relic term from the days before the popularity of continental quilts (duvets). But the ‘bedsit’ wasn’t just a manky dwelling; to many it represented a lifestyle as epitomised by Soft Cell’s, Bedsitter.
Sunday morning going slow
I’m talking to the radio
Clothes and records on the floor
The memories of the night before
Out in club land having fun
And now I’m hiding from the sun
Waiting for a visitor
Though no-one knows I’m here for sure
Dancing laughing
Drinking loving
And now I’m all alone
In bed sit land
My only home
The solution, is obvious! Don’t call your accommodation a ‘bedsit.’ Just because it’s small doesn’t mean it has to be grotty any more than it implies you have to lead a pointless hedonistic life.
‘One rooms’ come in all shapes and sizes and some are pretty shitty. Usually they are contained in buildings of two, three of four floors. I lived in a one room in Ch’eonan that was truly a one room. The toilet doesn’t seem to count and probably neither the kitchen but this example, clean and not altogether unpleasant, was simply one room. From the edge of my bed I could lean across to the sink and pull out a sliding table and from their I could prepare a meal, stand up and cook it without take more than half a pace, and then sit back down on the edge of my bed and eat it. Washing up simply involved standing up. My Ch’eonan ‘one-room’ was the ideal accommodation for an invalided person and if I so wished I could have pissed in the sink while stood in my bed. Indeed it was so small that if I’d piddled 360 degrees I could have hit ever wall. Prior to Ch’eonan I had a ‘one-room’ in Daegu and once again it was simply one room, bedroom and kitchen combined, with a separate toilet and shower. It lacked air-conditioning, something I now wouldn’t live without and though it wasn’t unpleasant, the fact I cooked a lot of mackerel at the time made it smell.
But there are perhaps worse types of accommodation. If you’re a waygukin a ‘two-room’ is perhaps worse as it involves sharing facilities with a co-worker. I spent a winter with a great chap from Ghana who happened to have the controls for the ondol heating in his room and he liked the temperature set at maximum. I slept on the floor at the time and the effectiveness of ondol heating is non the more obvious than when you can’t escape its intensity. Under a duvet, all heat is trapped and often there are no cool spots, such as you have with western style radiator heating, from which to escape the onslaught. I’d sneak the temperature down when he was out, he’d come home, put on two sets of thermal clothing, rack the temperature back up and climb under his duvet. He’d lived in Korea twelve years and like most Koreans, he hated the cold and anything under 25 degrees was classified an atomic winter.
How you might rate as ‘0.50 room,’ that is a one-room shared by two people, would depend on the extent you feel compensated by the luxury of regular sex and I’ve known couples share the tiniest of one-rooms. I like my space and space means a double bed. A shag is great but I’ve been too long as a sad-singly to want to sleep in the same bed as another human and besides, I snore!
past and present
Eventually, you come to realise that Koreans don’t actually see anything significantly negative in a ‘one-room.’ As far as such rooms go I feel I am probably luckier than most. My present abode accounts for the combined area of 2.5 of my previous one-rooms and my kitchen is separate from my bedroom/study. It has also taught me the benefits of minimalism and heightened my awareness of the way we amass shit you don’t really need and of course, the more space you have the more you feel compelled to fill it. Back in the UK I have a house packed with junk and a substantial set of books shelves which host books and music I have had for years and never accessed. In Korea, a digital orientated life and two terabyte external hard drives have allowed me to acquire and store enough music and literature for the rest of my life and reduced the storage capacity a thousand fold. Yes, the future is getting smaller and upgrading to the latest formats is much more enjoyable especially when it involves denying greedy multi-billionaires even more money.
The worst thing about ‘one-rooms’ is they rarely have any view other than the concrete walls of the next building. If you’re on the ground floor the advantage you might have in being able to see the world beyond is ruined by the bars that turn such rooms into a prison cell. In ‘one-room’ land a computer is a necessity because your monitor can provide an appropriate background scene to offset the lack of any real view but one adapts very quickly and if you can imagine you’re in a spaceship or ship, claustrophobia can be minimized.
Links
Soft Cell: Bedsitter (link to youtube)
© 林東哲 2010 Creative Commons Licence.
Minimal Intervention – Toilet Technology
but what;s inside is a gamble
This month the Korean census is being compiled and on Sunday afternoon I was visited by a friendly woman who took my details. Handing me the census form to complete, I sat at my desk by the front-door while she knelt on her knees so her shod feet hung over the small entrance where you leave your shoes. From that position she could just manage to offer me assistance without taking her shoes off and entering my one-room proper. With her at my feet looking up, I felt a little like a Buddha.
an unpleasant experience and even worse if there's no toilet paper
One of the questions on the census asked if my ‘one-room’ toilet is ‘sit-down’ or ‘squat’ and it would seem that the ‘sit-down’ toilet is more desirable or ‘classy’ than a ‘squat’ job and this might suggest that the proliferation of such toilets is part of the ‘westernization’ of Korea. Not only are Koreans being encouraged to eat western shit in the form of fast-food, but they are being encouraged to expel it whilst seated. I’ve had my fair share of squatting in countries like India and Morocco and having to do so in Korea always reminds me of unpleasant digital incursions necessitated by a lack of toilet paper. Of course, Korea has toilet paper, or at least it’s available but if you’re using a toilet away from home there is a probability that both the toilet you are forced to use and you yourself, are tissue-less and hence a digital dredging will be required. Last time I encountered such a situation I was fortunate that both a hose lay in the cubicle and a handkerchief in my pocket (Emergency Dump)
Personally, the idea of squat toilets are rich in unpleasant associations but they do offer some advantage on the seated toilet bowl. Firstly, they conform to the Korean ideal of ‘well-being’ in that they ideally align the body to provide the greatest expulsion of waste and in the process help reduce or retard the development of hemorrhoids. Secondly, much less ‘skinship’ is required squatting and most notable are the fact you don’t have to sit on what is a public seat and neither do you have to reach for the sheets from a communal toilet roll. Nothing is worse than having to sit on those stainless steel toilets in British public conveniences which look great if regularly cleaned, but when not are tarnished with stains of unspeakable origins.
I notice many K-bloggers don’t like squat toilets but for those who have traveled and have more than one frame of reference, even the worst Korean public toilets aren’t that bad; they actually have partitions and doors, are usually made of porcelain, have running water, and there’s never a sea of shit six feet from your backside. Regardless of where you are in the world, shitting anywhere but in your home is a gamble and the worst you can expect in Korea is a lack of toilet paper, some bad smells and the need to squat. And unlike some of the more ‘developed’ countries in which I’ve traveled, you’re unlikely to encounter anything ‘seedy.’ I once wet for a piss in a toilet in Denver and what I witnessed can be left to the imagination. Yes; Korean public toilets often lack toilet paper and they can be basic and require that you squat but in the scale of things this isn’t that bad. But Korea is full of surprises and it is just possible to discover that the emergency toilet is not only impeccably clean but creatively designed. Last winter, on my way to Seoul, the bus pulled-in at what in the UK would be ‘motorway services.’ The gents toilet was amazing with a large central, glass atrium which filled the toilet with natural light and under which a large garden flourished. There were even a number of showers. Many bloggers seem to think Koreans have a monopoly on dirty toilets and not only could I cite truly unpleasant toilet experiences, but also that you don’t necessarily need to travel beyond Britain or the USA to find them. I’ve taught in British schools where students would piss or shit on the floor because they thought it amusing and I have even seen examples where kids would jam a whole toilet roll in the ‘S’ bend and then cap it with a shit. Every country has unclean toilets and a lack of toilet paper does not make a toilet ‘dirty’ it just means you should have carried tissues with the same zeal in which you carry a bottled water in summer.
a luxury toilet
I am tempted to refer to the toilet on which you sit as ‘comfortable.’ Of course, this is a culturally orientated value judgment as Koreans do not find squatting, either on a toilet or waiting for a bus, uncomfortable. It isn’t that a Korean wouldn’t want to read a book or newspaper while squatting, but that to do so seated is preferable. The difference is much the same between that of a stool and an armchair; a stool is great for milking a cow or weeding the garden but if you want to watch TV or read a novel, an armchair is much nicer.
control console
alternative control console
Basically, Korea has four classes of toilet which may be designated squat, seated, luxury-seated and deluxe-seated. The three classes can be further classified by four bands based on cleanliness: very bad, bad, okay, super nice. The UK, on the other hand, only has one class of toilet, ‘seated’ and though UK toilets can be ‘super nice’ in terms of cleanliness, I have yet to witness a ‘luxury’ or ‘deluxe’ toilet though it’s been rumoured for a long time that the Queen has one.
Hyundai's electronic bidet
Both Korea and Japan have taken the western style toilet and transformed it into a luxury item which has invested bathrooms and toilets with the same comfort one would expect in a bedroom or front room. If the ubiquitous British toilet is suitable for reading and relaxation, the Korean luxury toilet provides the comfort in which to enjoy the marathon epics of Tolstoy and Wagner. Many Koreans households now have toilets fitted with an additional tier which is plumbed and wired-in to create a crapper with the same sophistication as the Starship Enterprise. Among the state of the art additions are features such as a toilet lid which raises and closes at the touch of a button or even automatically as you enter or leave the toilet. Koreans love heat under them and so a heated toilet seat is ideal. Cleaning you arse properly never really caught on in the UK and only on the rarest occasions have I ever seen a bidet in a British home. A recent survey revealed 1 in 4 British commuters had fecal matter on their hands (Telegraph. UK) which would suggest either sinks by a toilet are a rarity or us Brits wash our hands in the toilet bowl before flushing it. Meanwhile, over 70% of Japanese households have a bidet and Korea is rapidly catching up.
Korean toilet fixtures provide a high-tech control console from which to activated a bidet and by which the temperature, force, and location of the spray are controlled. Once douched, an anal-dryer kicks-in and blow-dries the entire area. So, far, only one digit has been required to complete a procedure that formally required at the very minimum, an entire hand. Equipped with musical accompaniment, the ability to automatically inject a variety of scents into the air as well as instantly sucking out foul smells from almost the exact point of their origin, deluxe models sanitize the entire process and take poo-ing where no one has gone before.
a luxury toilet (link to 'Sharon')
A luxury toilet in my last high school
There seems to be some discrepancy about whether toilet paper should be used before activating the bidet. Some sources suggest ‘wiping away’ excess matter, some suggest ‘patting’ it partially clean, which I guess means removing any ‘crumbs’, while others opt for the immediate activation of the anal shower unit. I guess it all depends on the consistency of your crap and certainly, while you might be able to ‘pat’ a bum clean that has just expelled the remnants of a Korean diet, a western diet will render a much stickier, chocolaty mess totally impervious to anything but a vigorous wiping. The luxury of a hands-free crap, of cleaning your backside without any form of manual intervention is probably only possible on a diet high in fibre and as most waygukins who eat Korean food on a daily basis, will testify, this is achieved when what you expel looks much the same as when ingested. If the contents of your toilet bowl resemble last nights kimchi-stew, your bowels are blessed with ‘well-being’ and a bidet will free your hands completely.
High School toilets, when kids clean them themselves they are less tempted to piss or shit on the floor
And often other luxurious bathroom innovations can be found. I worked in one academy where a kids toilet had been designed and not only were there a miniature urinal, sink and sit-down toilet, but the room itself was less than two meters high and the door by which you entered was miniature. The entire bathroom was like something from a doll’s house.
toilets for kids
great idea
For super clean hands, even after crapping 'hands-free' style, nothing purges loitering microbes like the ultra-violet hand dryer.
Korean toilets, the shape of things to come...
There is so much more to Korean toilets and ablutions than squat loos and lack of toilet paper and putting up with a little discomfort, which could just as well occur ‘back home’ seems to distract some many bloggers not just from what else is out there, but also the usefulness of their experience as a subject. So, next time you find yourself caught short and in a squat toilet with no tissue paper…
and then go write about it!
Related Articles
- Squat for a healthier poop (mnn.com)
- Toilets: Japan power behind throne (search.japantimes.co.jp)
© 林東哲 2010 Creative Commons Licence.
Quality of Life
고운 Skin Clinic, and to the right (hidden by tree) an animal hospital. Both less than 1 minutes walk from my one-room
One reason I find Korea a more enjoyable place to live is that they have not yet learnt to be as efficient money grabbers as some western countries. Yes, Korea is capitalist but it is certainly not as aggressively exploitative as the UK or indeed much of the western world. Of course, bad things happen in Korea, like anywhere else, and without doubt political and corporate corruption exist here as much as in Britain where a ‘forgiving’ population has effectively pardoned the recent greedy excesses of politicians. The things I like in Korea are possibly destined to disappear in the greed which seems to epitomize aggressive capitalism but until then, here some of the benefits I enjoy.
'Best' ophthalmic clinic and 'Beauty' Dentist - 2 minutes walk from my one-room
a tinnitus clinic less than 30 seconds from my one-room
specialist hospital some 4 minutes walk from my one-room
I love the idea of ‘service’ (서비스) that shops and restaurants offer to loyal customers. A few weeks ago I recorded and wrote about the ‘concessions’ I earned (see: Freebies) in a seven-day period, and which amounted to 20.000 Won (£10). I had free onion rings, quite a number of free beers, garlic bread, small bottles of vitamin drink and was given 1000 Won (50 pence) discount for medicine, by my pharmacist. Being given a ‘service’ immediately puts you, the customer, in a ‘ special relationship’ with the business and though you can reject it and immediately ‘shop’ elsewhere, it is rewarding and re-energizes my belief that humans are not all money grabbers. There is much more a sense in Korea that a customer is important primarily because smaller businesses vastly outnumber the large ones where in terms of customer numbers, your individual allegiance is unimportant. In Home-Plus or Tesco’s UK, my own opinions and importance are marginal and quite often the response to my complaints summarized as: ‘your expectations and tastes are obviously higher than the average customer.’ With a multitude of small businesses in the form of shops, restaurants, markets and street vendors, your importance as an individual customer in Korea, is of more significance. The practice of being able to negotiate a discount for large purchases is an added bonus.
I’m crap at wrapping gifts but in Korea this is a complimentary service and I’m sure the wrappers have had special training. In the UK gifts are usually only wrapped at Christmas and in the season of goodwill, the biggest hypocrisy of all given it’s the greediest period of the whole year, you can expect to be charged for the service. When I hand over £3-4 (6000-8000 Won) for the wrapping of a gift which I have just paid £40 (80000 Won) I really feel ripped-off. You can shop your entire life at small businesses in the UK and in all but the rarest of occasions can you ever expect reward for your loyalty.
six assistants in one opticians store
On my last visit to the UK, almost a year ago, both my local supermarket, Tesco’s, which in Korea masquerades as ‘Home-Plus, and one of the large, do-it-your-self stores, B and Q, were introducing automated checkouts. As I stood in a queue in B and Q, a number of assistants were on hand to help familiarise customers with the new machinery that would no doubt put some of them out of work. Shopping in either of these stores is unpleasant as the are both gargantuan warehouses where cameras outnumber staff 10-1 and seeking help requires several laps of the premises only to find the teenage assistant has no idea where anything is. The automated checkout had been programmed to welcome customers and provide basic instructions and I was pleased to hear a number of people in the queue voice displeasure at yet another facet of customer services being relegated to a brainless machine. Despite the fact the moaning will achieve nothing and that by this time next year the automated checkout will be fully accepted, I too voiced my dissent. Of course, what separates me from other customers is that not only are my ‘expectations higher than the average customer,’ but the lengths I am willing to go in revolt verge on the lunatic. My Luddite tendencies would not think twice about squirting superglue in the slot designed for a credit card and I can wage a solitary regime indefinitely. Gramsci once suggested that even shopping is a political activity and I can take mine to the extreme.
3 minutes walk from my one-room, directly opposite my academy - 'Joseph' neurosurgery
When I went shopping yesterday, in my local E-Mart, I counted 4 pairs of staff on duty at each point of entry onto a level of the supermarket. As customers entered a level they were greeted with synchronised bows and verbally welcomed. Apart from the checkout assistants in stores not yet fully automated in the UK, eight members of staff is probably about the number employed on the entire shop floor of a British supermarket. In Korea, customer support isn’t a luxury but an expectation and there are always a couple of staff employed for every section of shelves and assistance is never more than a few meters away. Parking your car, a subject a broached in Ear Piece Mania, can entail as many as 10 parking assistants all of whom are trained in the intricacies of the bizarre hand signals used within Korean car parks. In the UK and many other places, customer support and adequate staff to assist shoppers, are either relocated in somewhere like India or have been viciously culled in the drive to maximize profits.
The first of an army of car parking attendants encountered in parking your car in the supermarket car park
Several years ago a faulty USB port on my computer damaged my camera and electronic dictionary but this was no worry. Most companies, especially ones such as Samsung, Iriver, and mobile phone manufacturers, have service centers in every major town. For eighteen months, one of the Daegu service centers for Samsung was next to my academy, until it moved a five-minute walk down the road. Regardless, there will be a number of other Samsung centers in the city. Iriver, the manufacturer of both my MP3 and my palm reader are twenty minutes down the metro-line and the service center for my Nurian electronic dictionary, is five minutes away by bus. So, whenever I have had some problem, customer support is on hand, easily accessed and the product repaired and back in my possession within days and possibly quicker. On two occasions, mobile phone problems were repaired while I waited. When I recently had my camera repaired in the new Samsung service center, it took three days and when I went to collect it, it was wheeled out from the an adjacent room on what I can only describe as a cake trolley. Much the same support is available for computer problems and a computer service shop is located less than two minutes from my one-room. Meanwhile, in order to keep frustrated customers at bay and continue operating a second-rate service, a token service at best, UK service centers are located in the furthest corners of the country and require your faulty goods to be ferried away by courier service. And to ensure they can operate a slow service that is cheap to run, all public interface is removed and the call center relocated to Bombay or Bangladesh.
directly behind my academy, 'Future' urology clinic above which is my doctor
Korean medical care is efficient and there are more doctors and medical facilities within a six-minute walking radius of my one room than there are be in my entire home town. Indeed, 4 hospitals are within a five-minute walk, and in less time than it takes me to walk to work, three minutes, I can reach two ophthalmologists, 6 opticians, urology, cardiology, neurology and ENT clinics, and a women’s’ health center. In addition, there are probably 5 dentists, a number of skin clinics, and a dietitians and two veterinary clinics. Remember, Korea is much more up than out and one high-rise block can contain more facilities than an entire British street where commercial businesses traditionally and almost exclusively, occupy the ground floor. A few weekends ago, the husband of one of my colleagues needed an MRI scan after though I’m told there are a limited number of such facilities in the city, he was able to get a scan on the day he needed one and at a cost of 111.000 Won (£56) after deducting the amount provided by insurance. My colleague actually moaned that this was too expensive. Visiting the doctor involves a wait of no more than an hour and I don’t need to make an appointment. Even without Korean medical insurance the cost of a visit is no more than 7000 Won (£3.50) while the cost with insurance, is an ‘extortionate’ £1.50. And the greatest advantage for anyone living in or near a Korean city or big town, is that most medical needs do not interrupt your daily life. When I have needed anything other than minor medical assistance in the UK, I have usually had to travel a substantial distance and then sit in various queues for several hours. All clinics in Korea have tasteful waiting areas with televisions, complimentary tea and coffee etc, and very often a couple of computers with free internet access. Admittedly, I hear and have seen examples of doctors and nurses not following universal procedures, but back home despite our rigorous rituals hospitals are still plagued with skin eating viruses and for every account of bad practice I experience or read about on the Korean peninsula, I can match them with corresponding ones from the UK. At least when I spot something unsavory in the Korean system, I do so in comfortable surroundings, with a complimentary coffee while watching the television and all without sitting in long queues which have necessitated taking the day off work.
a sneaky shot of my local ophthalmic clinic
a wide variety of side dishes usually replenished at no cost
With eating is my main pleasure, the ample amounts side dishes that accompany a Korean meal and which can usually be re-ordered at no extra cost, is enjoyable. The recent cabbage shortage (Ersatz Kimchi in a State of Emergency) saw prices rise to 10000 Won (£5) for a large cabbage and caused subsequent problems with kimchi production but rather than just hike the cost up, and subsequently leave it high even after production costs have fallen, as happened a few years ago with petrol prices in the UK, most restaurants in my area decreased kimchi and salad amounts and to compensate increased the portions of meat. My local bo-sam restaurant (보쌈) doubled the slices of pork from 7 to 14 and has only recently reduced the number as the price of vegetables, and most especially cabbage, has decreased. In restaurants, chilled water in summer, and warm water in winter are complimentary and a can of coke is usually the same price whether chilled or not. In recent years, especially in hot weather, it has become a trend in the UK to charge up to as much as 1000 Won (50p) extra for the privilege of a cold drink, especially in extremely hot weather.
A Samsung service center
In Britain, unless shoes are leather it is difficult getting them repaired and for items like trainers you don’t repair them at all. Over the years we have been encouraged to sling things out and replace them as soon as they are worn. In Korea you can easily have the worn collars of shirts reversed and repairing shoes with rubber soles, including trainers, is easy. I had my rubber shoes soled and heeled almost a year ago whereas in the UK I would have been compelled to throw them in the bin.
Need a pair of glasses? It would probably work out cheaper to fly to Korea and buy a few pairs than pay the excessive charges levied in the UK. There is no charge for the eye examination and the price of frames begin at about 15.000 Won (£7). I have three pairs of glasses and all have frames costing less than 20000 Won (£10). Koreans love colourful frames and the range available, extensive. Cleaning cloths and cases for glasses are all free and the cleaning clothes cute and decorated. A pair of varifocal glasses, with the glass graduated so they look like ordinary glasses, costs around 200.000 Won (£100) and outside one of the opticians within a minutes walk of my one-room stands a special electrical device which you can use to clean your glasses. It’s free to use! Since optical care was privatized in the UK, the British have been abused by high street companies ripping them of. You can easily pay in excess of £300 (600.000 Won) for a pair of varifocals but the monopoly held by such greedy companies is being seriously threatened with the emergence of online opticians.
There are many flaws in the Korean system and I probably turn a blind eye to many of them, but with all the advantages I have outlined, plus a national tax of around 3.3%, (my monthly bills, including tax, all amount to a grand total less than that I would pay for the lowest of my monthly utility bills in the UK), I do not feel I am being fleeced or financially raped. Unlike many western countries, quality of life doesn’t cost and arm and leg.
Further Links
© 林東哲 2010 Creative Commons Licence.
A Touch of Tranquility – Update (1)
This article was originally published in Daegu Pockets in October 2010
All bathhouses have their own unique ambiances created by a combination of lighting, décor and design. Additionally, they differ in terms of what they offer. Bathhouses all have common features but every bathhouse provides something that differentiates it from other establishments in the vicinity.
Poolside
Situated in the very heart of Song-So, in the Mega Town Complex, which not only dominates the area physically, but in terms of facilities, boasting a large cinema complex, buffet and pizza restaurant and numerous other amenities, Hwang-so has gradually grown on me. My first visit was on a cold, dark November morning when I arrived to find the premises packed with a class of school boys – not the kind of atmosphere you want at 5 am and on your visit to a bathhouse in a number of years. I found it small, noisy and claustrophobic and didn’t go back.
I have since learnt that if you want peace and tranquility it can be found in the center of this bustling building and that school-boy invasion a blip that can temporarily blight any bathhouse.
Song-So's 'Mega Town' Complex - I minute from my front door
The reception to both the male and female bathhouses are on the eighth floor and once you have stripped to your birthday suit it’s only a couple of paces into the bathing complex. Here you will find a very intimate atmosphere with black marble tiling, low lighting and even some slightly darkened areas. Hwang-so is certainly not a large bathhouse. Four central baths, all internally lit, provide a water massage pool, warm and hot pool, and a bubbling Jacuzzi with herb additives. A large cold pool occupies one end and completes the facilities found in every bathhouse. As for the complex’s specialties, you can enjoy a Japanese style cypress bath (히노끼탕) and my favourite, a humidity sauna (습식 사우나) where water sprays from the ceiling like the finest, warm rain and is so fine it hangs, caught in subdued lighting, like heavy mist. A massive rock bowl sits in one corner and is filled with cold water which you can throw over yourself when you get too warm. Additionally, the seats in this sauna are cut from tree trunks and their woody aroma scents the air. Adjacent, is a Swedish style pine sauna with very low lighting. I have come to really enjoy the tasteful complimentary additions such as, water features, rock, and chunks of pine tree, which occupy various nooks and crannies.
The changing area is fairly spacious with central slatted benches and sofas plus the usual television and a resident barber. From this area, the jjimjilbang, the clothed, mixed sex communal area, on the seventh floor, can be accessed.
Unless you simply want to shower, you should never frequent just one bathhouse anymore than you should eat one type of food. Different establishments provide different experiences and to capitalise on this you need to a few alternative which can be matched with your appropriate moods. Hwang-so has no poolside television or piped music and swimming or playing in the cold pool is not allowed. If you find yourself in Song-so with a hangover or simply want to relax, this is a great sanctuary. My only criticism, there is no sleeping area within the pool area.
Link for information and details on Hwang-So Sauna
© 林東哲 2010 Creative Commons Licence.
Memory Lane
Kimpo Airport
I often mention how rapidly Korea is changing. I have only lived here four and a half years, spread across ten years, so in comparison to friends who have over twelve years experience, I’m somewhat of an infant. I would love to have been here fifteen or twenty years ago, when Korea was truly a country where other than American soldiers, few ventured. ‘Fat ‘has arrived in Korea, an observation I often point out in my posts on bathhouses, and EPIK has brought an army of teachers into schools to such an extent our uniqueness has been lost. And no doubt those who first came to Korea in the 90’s will have noticed even greater changes.
Kimpo in 2000
When I arrived in Korea in September 2000, Inch’on International Airport was still being built and looking back, it is quite incredible to think that the piddly sized Kimpo was the country’s major airport. Kimpo was basically one big room through which people arrived and departed and I’m sure it’s bigger today than it was ten years ago. Few restaurants had English menus and on every street corner were ‘video shops’ renting the latest videos. The internet contained little information on Korea in terms of cooking, culture or history, zilch on hanja and very little on Korean. Few teachers had air-conditioning and for those in English academies, split schedules, a common practice, meant the 6 hours you’d been led to believe you’d end up teaching in Korea, were probably closer to 8 or 9. Maybe it is still the same in some language academies, but class sizes were big, sometimes twenty students packed in small classes and often with no air-conditioning. There were fewer academies and my school, the largest in the area, occupied three floors of a large building. There were few resources, wall sockets often didn’t work and only a couple of tape players if they did and if you complained you were simply told to read to the kids. Most of the westerners I remembered meeting at the time seemed to work under similar conditions. Back then, university posts really were the cream of jobs with significantly more pay than other types of teaching and before the recent changes in bureaucracy, transferring from one town to another or one school to another, was easy.
If you had a pair of shoes like this in 2000, you were 'sexy.'
Big shoes were the fashion on young lads. By ‘big’ I mean long and so long that I thought I easily find a pair of English size 13’s. Indeed, they were so long, a little like the old ‘winkle-pickers,’ that they turned up and gave them a medieval appearance. On younger boys, even very young ones, a long forelock on the side of the head was tinted gold meanwhile their teeth were black. While older children seemed to have good dental hygiene, milk teeth were seen as unimportant and many of my younger students had black baby teeth. Today, this is something I rarely see.
Coffee beans or ground beans were hard to buy and I remember a coffee filter machine in supermarkets attracted small audiences and if you wanted a bottle of wine, if you could afford it and could find it, they were stored in a glass cabinet and the choice very limited. It seemed everyone wanted English lessons and were willing to pay for the privilege and being stopped and asked if you would teach privately, was an almost daily occurrence. In my diary for Saturday 18th of November, 2000, I wrote:
Here (KFC in Song-So) I met a man who wanted English lessons and said he would take me sightseeing to temples in return for lessons. Then a boy of about 11 came and talked to me and introduced me to his little brother. Later, yet another stranger came up and asked if I would read stories in his kindergarten and I said I would ring him on Monday.
The KFC near Han-song Plaza has closed and is now a stationary store in which the glass stairs are still embossed with Colonel Saunders’ face, but in the last two years I haven’t once been asked to teach privately by strangers in restaurants or on the street. I used to teach a few privates on a Sunday and would earn around a 100 000 Won an hour for teaching a small class of 3 or 4 students.
at one time were were as novel as coffee-filter machines and wine
Your presence, especially with children, was often enough for people to stop, gasp and gawk at you in awe. Only yesterday, a boy of 14 told me how he remembers seeing westerners when he was four years old and how he would be filled with excitement. Few schools had resident foreign English teachers and what foreigners existed were a novelty. Many of the children, and some adults, you met ten years ago had never spoken to a foreigner. Then there was the starring… I remember times when the constant starring stressed me to such an extent, I’d occasionally step into a recess or doorway for a break. Unlike today, when a solitary passenger stares lazily from a busy bus, a westerner on the street would turned every head. I imagine it was even more intense in the early 90’s and 80’s and probably not much different to an experience I once had on a station platform in Delhi, in 1984, when a crowd so large gathered to stare at my friend as he opened a map, that after a few minutes you couldn’t see him. In the Korea of today, you are noticed and not much else and it rarely causes excitement or stops people in their tracks.
A few weeks ago I was up Warayong Mountain in Song-So, Daegu; I’d stopped for a coffee at a small stall almost at the summit and was attempting a conversation with a woman sat on the next bench along. I noticed a couple of small children coming down into the clearing where we sat and around which were various communal exercise machines. Suddenly, their faces broke into excitement and they started running and skipping towards my seat. For a moment, it was the kind of reaction I remember on my first visit when kids would run up and then stand and stare, or might bravely attempt to say hello or stroke the hairs on a bared arm. However, ten years later and the focus of their attention isn’t me but the dog sat beside the woman with whom I am talking. The children skip up to it and lavish it with as much excitement and attention as they’d once have given a foreigner. It isn’t even a real dog but one of those ‘handbag pooches’ which look more like a wisp of cotton-wool on straw legs. I could have understood if it had been a real dog, a labrador or sheep dog, but this pathetic specimen! I realised in that instant that this is what it has come to; a miniature poodle now commands more attention, is more interesting and exotic than a foreigner. I am not exaggerating when I add that despite my height and size, and sitting right next to them, they didn’t even notice me.
a puff of wind and it's dead
Amongst all these changes however, one convenient constant; unlike the rest of the world prices have changed little. I bought a hanja dictionary in 2000 at a cost of 15.000 Won and in exactly the same store, nine years later, the same book cost 15.500 Won. That’s an increase of 25 pence in UK sterling! Quite amazing!
© 林東哲 2010 Creative Commons Licence.
A Day of Reckoning – 'Suneung' (수능)
D Day countdown
As I write, across Korea thousands of third year high school students, known as ‘go-sam’ (고삼), will be religiously counting down the days. Some began the count at ‘D Day minus 365,’ others, more traditionally, began at ‘D Day minus 100.’ Today, is ‘D Day minus 21.’ And within the space in which I have written this post, in exactly three weeks time, the futures of thousands of teenagers will have been significantly determined.
‘D Day’ itself will present about 600.000 of the nation’s ‘go-sam’ students, with one of, if not the most, important experiences of their lives and certainly their most important exam. The suneung (수능) or CSAT (College Scholastic Ability Test) is the Korean, standardized test taken by all final year high school students and although some alternatives are now offered, and more are supposedly on the way, for most students it is the sole qualification required for entry into Korean universities.
Of all the standardized tests globally, the suneung is seen as one of the most rigorous. The path towards that moment of academic reckoning begins in elementary school and every step in the development of academic ability from infant study onwards, is a preparation for the suneung.
a late arrival is given a police 'escort'
Taken on the second or third Thursday in November, the suneung temporarily transforms the face of Korea and on the day there is a sense that the entire nation is backing the candidates. The transformations are a reflection of the pivotal role education plays in society and despite the professed importance other nations give to ‘education,’ in most, only a national catastrophe or war would be sufficient to suspend capitalism or national defence. In Korea education stops everything, back in Scumland UK, it stops nothing and I can remember sitting the equivalent of the suneung exam to the accompaniment of persistent rifle fire from the nearby military base.
The Korean equivalent of Room 101
The exams last one day and are divided into a number of periods during which exams are taken in subjects such as: maths, social studies, English, sciences, vocational studies and foreign languages. The exams are largely multi choice. To guarantee candidates arrive in school armed with equipment, entry permits, a ‘fighting spirit’ and ready to do their best, a range of national procedures and contingencies come into effect:
♦All other students begin school after 9.am.
♦To help ensure transport system work to maximum efficiency, many businesses begin work at 10am. This includes the Stock Exchange! Yes, there’s only one Stock Exchange, it’s in Seoul and probably nowhere near a school, but it’s the thought that counts. For a few moments the success of students is of more importance than the economy.
♦During the periods when listening test are being conducted, planes cannot land at airports and those waiting to land have to circle above 10.000 feet. Even air-force movements are curtailed, within reason, to ensure silence at the appropriate times.
♦Korea Electric Power Corps places 4000 workers on standby in the event of power failures and each examination center, of which there are about a 1000, is sent a technician to monitor power supplies and await any emergency.
♦Police assist on the roads approaching schools and are also on hand to transport students who’ve encountered problems. Nerves thwart the plans of the best intentioned candidates.
♦Since 1993, there has been no evidence of suneung questions being leaked. In the days immediately prior to D-Day, specially selected professors are imprisoned in a hotel, denied any form of contact with the outside world, the hotel windows blacked out, and equipped with a library of resources, they formulate the exam questions. No doubt the hotel is 5 star, but nonetheless, they are kept in solitary confinement until the exams are officially over.
♦Schools are also supplied detectors with which to scan students for devices, hand-phones etc, which could be used to cheat.
♦Female teachers in high schools on the day of Suneung are not allowed to wear high heeled shoes or perfume.
'suneung exams transport support' provided by the military
Police support
Beyond official and bureaucratic procedures adopted to ensure both fairness and a conducive examination atmosphere, a host of other practices have developed aimed to improve the chances of success. Eating anything sticky on or before ‘D Day’ is believed to enhance ones luck. Sticky things cling to the wall and do not fall and so by chewing on toffee (엿), or sticky rice cake (찰떡), it is hoped you grades will hold fast and not slip into the gutter. Conversely, eating anything slimy, such as seaweed soup (미역 국) might incur bad luck and see your chances for the university of your choice slipping away. At the same time, one must avoided uttering any word expressing failure, falling, dropping, sinking, sliding or slipping. The reason obvious; if it’s muttered, it might happen. Parents and relatives will travel to mountain temples to say prayers and leave slips of paper on which are written the names of loved candidates, or they will attend special services in churches where small Bibles can be purchased in which you stick a photo of your son or daughter, all in the hope of currying divine favour. I doubt many believe success or failure is determined by the consistency of ones food, use of language or even prayer but anything which can be used to bolster the spirit is a valid psychological weapon in the quest for exam success and highlights the desperate measure to which the importance of exam success drives individuals.
Parents praying for the exam success of their children. I did the same thing here with a friend's family in 2001.
messages of good luck at the start of the final 100 day countdown
'go-sam' students being greeted by their juniors on exam day
plenty of rousing support
supporters
On D-Day, parents will crowd around school gates, some will pray and other will hold their Buddhist bracelets in reverent anticipation. Candidates are often greeted by 1st and 2nd grade students as they arrive. Colourful banners wishing students good luck are waved and sometimes juniors will perform the full bow at the feet of those about to be tested. It is also common for juniors to rally the spirits of their stressed seniors by singing rousing songs before the exams commence. My last high school had almost 2000 students and it raised the hackles to hear 1200 boys singing in unison from all the classrooms under the 3rd floor, where the suneung candidates waited for their exams to commence.
Boys singing after the completion of exams
a mother prays at the school gates
The exam
And when the exams finish, all the text books and notebooks used by the students throughout the year are unceremoniously tossed from the go-sam windows, often on the 3rd floor. Of course, the pressure isn’t off as from 6pm onwards, newspapers can publish exam questions and the agonizing process of self assessment begins until the results are finally released. And of course, as with every exam in Korea, only those with perfect scores are allowed to feel any satisfaction and even this is down played.
legitimate vandalism
relieving stress
Finally!
Undoubtedly, Korea has one of the best educated populations globally and though we might want to qualify the nature of that ‘education,’ we cannot dispute their success in terms of literacy and the sciences. Objective subjects and languages are much easier to assess. When it comes to the arts and subjective thinking, Korea has problems but however flawed or misguided we might perceive the Korean education system, it has facets worthy of admiration and parts perhaps worthy of emulation. Coming from Scumland UK, where dumbing-down is fashionable, bone-idleness excused, and the fruits of study and erudition watered down into a melee where belly dancing becomes an academic pursuit which has parity with mathematics or physics, it is refreshing to work in a culture where education has too much significance rather than little at all.
results
To all 2010 go-sam (고삼) students about to face the suneung, ‘fighting’ (화팅!)
Related Articles
♦ For a selection of video clips giving a general idea of the various suneung activities
© 林東哲 2010 Creative Commons Licence.
Tissue Trauma
Not suitable for pumpkin people
I was cooling off last night in the cold pool at the bathhouse. With the evenings still a little warm, at least if you’re western, the cold pool is still not too cold. Many Koreans started wrapping themselves up three weeks ago. The memi (매미) only had to stop singing, at just under 29 degrees, for some to start complaining about ‘the cold.’ The last memi I heard was on Saturday 25th of September and given Daegu is one of the warmest parts of Korea throughout the year, I would imagine the Memi stopped singing earlier, further north.
The following week, was still warm and I sweated in class despite the use of air conditioning and a fan but already some students had begun shimfing about it being cold. ‘Teacher! Teacher! I cold! Turn off air-con!” They whined. Like it’s fucking 28 degrees Celsius! That week I really enjoyed walking home in the evening because there was just the tiniest touch of coolness floating in the air. Suddenly there were only a handful of people on the street in short-sleeved shirts. And now it’s mid-October, I notice my shower is a little too uncomfortable to use without increasing the temperature. For the last few months even the coldest setting had become warm. And in my school some teachers have already started that typically Korean custom of wearing a coat all day long.
cooling off
So, in the bathhouse the cold pool (냉탕) is empty. Six weeks ago it was at its busiest. A friend I haven’t seen for a while came and spoke to me. He’s slightly older than me and incredibly fit. He has a short stocky body and is a regular in the gym where he runs for 45 minutes on the treadmill, at a fast pace. He has this habit of entering the cold pool, which you can just about swim in, by springing over its side and into the water. Most of the schoolboys don’t do that and instead enter by the steps or climb into the pool.
tissue trauma
We chat for a while, me draped over the pool ledge and him standing. Then he takes his leave and tells me he wants to have a shower and will come back and join me. As he turns around, I notice a white flash from his buttock and walking into brighter light realise he has a few inches of toilet paper dangling out of his crack. I grin to myself and then momentarily ponder which is the greater embarrassment, a bogey hanging out of your nose or residue bog paper clamped between your checks like an insistent napkin.? Instantly, I choose the bog paper because you can so easily tell someone they have a bogey hanging, you simply touch your nose in a particular manner, and they will understand; it’s a discrete and universally understood hand sign. But how do you convey to someone they have paper hanging out their arse? There’s no universal ‘sign’ and I wouldn’t want to risk saying anything in Korean which might compound the problem. Do you discretely touch your buttocks or point around to them?
Without actually verbalizing the problem, I would imagine the only way you could draw attention to it would be to tug on it, like yanking a doorbell or pulling the chain of a toilet! You wouldn’t want to tug on it too much or it might pull out and who knows what’s on the other end or how much might be dragged out. Best is probably a small tug, just enough to announce a presence rather than raise an alarm. By the time I’d finished pondering, the dilemma was over and he was safely in the shower where the offending bog paper, sloughing down the backs of his legs, started its voyage to the drain. And luckily for him, I don’t think anyone else noticed.
envirnomentally friendly method
all too often the problem in Korea
© 林東哲 2010 Creative Commons Licence.
Who Really 'Worships' the Wang?
Not Suitable for pumpkin people
When I started working on this blog in earnest, I wrote in the ‘About’ page, that ‘you cannot immerse yourself in another culture without it altering how you perceive your own.’ Trying to comprehend facets of another culture is a dialogue between both your experiences and those presented by a new culture in much the same way as history is a ‘dialogue between past and present.’ Of course, I was wrong! A pumpkin lacks perception of its own environment, so to do some of the visitors that come here – often only for the briefest of visits.
Pumpkin people
Although I have had few nasty comments, on other blogs there has been some ‘discussion’ about the nature of Bathhouse Ballads. I doubt any of these ‘pumpkins’ took the time to read its content and drew their swords based solely on snippets gleamed from other bloggers. All it took was for one blogger to highlight my sexuality, and to do that he had to read a considerable amount of text because I have only clearly and unambiguously outed myself on a few occasions, and the peripheral pumpkins started making assumptions. When I accidentally read a couple of pumpkins’ posters, I actually thought they were referring to another blog. They describe this blog about ‘boys dropping their trousers,’ a blog about ‘kiddies,’ and a ‘gay blog’ and it wasn’t until I read the title they were referring to, that I realised it was Bathhouse Ballads. Worse, a forty-five year old friend I mention becomes a ‘boy’ and one reference to ‘skinny teenagers having the biggest dicks,’ labeled me a ‘perv.’ Only a ‘pumpkin’ could read Bathhouse Ballads, sweeping aside the many other topics covered, ignoring so much in the process to enable them to bend what remains to fit the predetermined judgment, to arrive at such erroneous conclusions. Being reminded that societies are populated predominantly by pumpkins, that those pumpkins are often the voice of the majority, and that individuals with the capacity to think for themselves are rare, is never very nice but more enlightened comments were present in my defence.
Clueless
Part of the pumpkin analysis was that Bathhouse Ballads is ‘into’ Korean ‘wang-worship’ and describes Korea men as ‘wang-flashers’. ‘I assume this refers to communal bathing because I have only once mentioned anything that could be construed as ‘flashing.’ It seems that ‘skinship’ and ‘concepts such as ‘dick friends’ (고추친구), a phenomena I haven’t yet written about, and same-sex bathing in general, provokes some hostility. I initially assumed that you cannot immerse yourself in another culture without reasserting your own. Well, a pumpkin can! So, in what way has my understanding of British culture, and specifically male gender, been reconfigured in the light of a Korean experience?
The voice of the majority
It is only westerners, and certainly not all, that perceive ‘skinship’ as ‘closeted homosexuality’ and are correspondingly fearful or suspicious of same-sex bathing, the relaxed Korean attitude to nudity and physical proximity. Of course, there will be ‘gay Koreans who use such a culture for some form of ‘sexual pleasure’ but to most men the penises of other males are of little more significance than are noses. If a Korean boy sees the penis of another male he is not ravaged with guilt or accused by friends of being ‘gay,’ as I have witnessed as a teacher in the UK. I regularly meet and read about westerners who will not go bathhouses and others who while not necessarily hostile to skinship, perceive it as something that must be banished from a classroom. Why? Korean teachers themselves use it and I’ve seen this on many occasions. Isn’t it rather insensitive of waygukin teachers to cast out the cultural norms of their host society and then impose their own? This is Korea, not back water wherever and there should be no need to impose foreign cultural values on Koreans.
Ironically, it is not Korean men who are ‘wang-obsessed,’ but the westerner. Western men, myself included, are burdened with an obsession of the penis, of what is truly ‘wang-obsession.’ When westerners, and especially western pumpkins, berate this aspect of Korean culture, they do so because of the values of their culture, they do so because they have been inculcated with obsessions about the ‘penis’ which derive from a deep-seated ‘fear of ‘sex’ as demonic and chaotic.’ The most glaring manifestation of this ‘obsession’ is when westerners conflate nudity with sex, and male nudity with homosexuality. Koreans find this conflation quite bizarre, as do other cultures. And the moment you accuse Korean men of being ‘wang-worshippers’ you highlight how totally you misunderstand the nature of your very own culture, let alone that of another! If communal bathing is ‘wang-flashing,’ then it is also ‘toe-flashing’ or ‘hip-flashing’ but why the focus on the ‘penis’ unless you yourself give it more importance than it’s worth.
anthropology - not an academic pursuit for pumpkins
We westerners are so obsessed with the penis and its association with the disruptive potential of sex to the extent that men will hide them from each other. Naturally, many males shower together after sports but far more are either embarrassed by it or avoid it. We judge other men on the size of their penis and assume that a bigger penis is a sign of greater masculinity or sexual prowess and while I suspect size has some significance in Korean society, it is tempered by communal bathing where you realise that between most men there is little difference. I imagine only a very small number of Korean boys angst over dick proportions in comparisons to British boys. And if we have a problem with our dicks we would generally find it very embarrassing to confide in a friend and personally, despite close male friends back in the UK, I would find it easier to discuss such things with my Korean friends and indeed have done. Only a penis obsessed westerner could perversify this admission.
Humour is used to defuse the fear and unease caused by both a real penis and anything resembling it and this was the subject of my post, Sausages and Shit – a Comparisons in Smut Humour. Give a class of British boys anything phallic, a banana or sausage, and you can guarantee someone will connect it to with a penis and begin making jokes with it. We even pass e-mail poster jokes about taxing different length penises – a tacit acknowledgment that a big dick means you are better off and hence need penalising.
and some have a university education
And then there’s our historical legacy, often one of the medical control of the penis: the association of mental weakness and instability with masturbation helped give rise to both the Boy Scouts and Kellogg’s Corn Flakes. All were all attempts to divert boys away their penis not because they were necessarily fixated on them, but because western ideology has a long and established fear of sex and anything associated with it. A ream of illnesses, some terminal, were associated with masturbation for which Kellogg himself advocated circumcision without anesthetic, as a cure. Neither did women escape the paranoia with the vagina and uterus often identified as the source of maladies and illness, most notably hysteria which was treated by hysterectomy. The penis, as the visible manifestation of sex and all the depravity to which indulgence could drag you was naturally the greatest offender and capable, especially in youth of perverting an individuals moral character and by extension the morality of the nation. From cod-pieces to Freud and beyond, western culture has a history of inflating the worth of that little appendage. In western history and ideology, the ‘penis’ is far from unimportant, and the fear of its potential continues to obsess us sparking one witch-hunt after another.
The problem is some people are tourists in their own culture
Same sex communal bathing liberates one from all that cultural baggage and to experience mixed sex bathing, as in Japan, takes it a step further. I would go as far as to say that not only does communal nudity provide a sense of liberation from the legacy of history as well as other negative baggage we carry about our bodies, but it is also a political statement. In Britain, if not indeed western society, masculinity and what comprises being male, expressed by traits such as: not showing emotion, heterosexuality, avoiding same-sex physical contact, revulsion at male nudity, aggression, etc, all focus on the penis and its capabilities and the fear that relaxing any constraints may entice engagement or may reveal more about us than we want to know. And with the taboos unnoticed, invisible and perceived as natural, they become a springboard from which pumpkins judge the world around them.
In future I will mark such posts with a logo warning readers that the content is not suitable for pumpkin people.
Not suitable for pumpkin people
© 林東哲 2010 Creative Commons Licence.
Hyu-Lim-Won Sauna. Da-sa – 휴림원 사우나. 다사
A Bathhouse Review
First visited October 9th 2010. Most recent visit, 19th May, 2012. This bathhouse and jjimjilbang is an absolute must in terms of a visit. It is situated in the rapidly developing area of Da-sa (다사), Daegu. I got to know Da-sa ten years ago when it was noted for being an up and coming area to live. Since then, it has exploded into a small town on the edge of west Daegu and it is still expanding. Impressive high rises dominate its approach and though it is separated from the main part of the city by the river, giving it a sense of being outside Daegu, the new buildings and their size are very much ‘big town.’ It’s a short ride from Song-so, perhaps 5000 Won (£2.50) in a taxi and on the metro system. Da-sa lies at the back of Keimyung University campus. From the area of Song-So E-Mart, several buses go to Dasa, including the 527. The facility is directly opposite bus stops.
Hyu-lim-won Sauna in Da-sa, Daegu
Hyu-lim-won is a very new complex which I need to explore more, so this is a cursory ‘report.’ My first visit was to the bathhouse (목욕탕). Being a ‘play Saturday’ (놀토- when kids have no State school)- at a time when many students have finished their mid-term exams, it was busy. The changing area was very comfortable, though a little small after the spacious Migwang Spolex (미광) in which you can get lost. A large decked seating area occupies the center of this area with numerous facilities, a snack machine, barbers etc, on the periphery.
The Bathhouse pool complex (male ): As you enter you notice the layout is on two levels with the back pools being accessed by a large inclined walk-way. There are about twenty stand up showers directly on your right and beyond these perhaps 30 sit down showers. On the left is the massage and scrub down area and various saunas: a dry sauna, very hot steam room and a salt sauna (소금방). Between the sit down showers and the saunas are three pools: a large warm pool (온탕), which at 42 degrees makes it as warm as many hot pools. Beyond this pool are two smaller pools one of which is the hot pool (열탕) which was 48 degrees. Beyond these and to the right is a large cold pool (냉탕), at 17 degrees. Access to the cold pool is via the inclined walk-way, to the left of which are a few lido deck chairs and a sleeping area (수면실) with floor heating (온돌), and at the head of which are steps into the cold pool, on the right. Standing at the peak of the inclined ramp walk-way, are steps into the furthest pool, a large therapy pool at 33 degrees. The therapy pool was very interesting with lots of facilities I’ve not seen before. On the far side are seven ‘pods,’ slightly sunken and in which you stand using handrails and after pressing the activation button are treated to a hydro massage, on your back. The jets are powerful, and if you maneuver yourself, you can give your butt a deep clean but you should have cleaned this area before entering any pools. On the right side is a glass pod in which you stand and again, after activating the button, a very powerful shower blasts your shoulders or back. Next to this is a similar shower, but not as powerful, and then three ‘pods’ which blasts jets of water onto the soles of your feet. On the left hand side are four sunken stone beds on which you lie for an alternative back and leg hydro therapy.
To the left of the central sleeping area, beyond the salt sauna, is the event pool (이벤트탕), and of all the event pools I’ve used, this was the most eventful. The pool was 36 degrees and had a powerful continual jacuzzi, while the water, scented with lemon, mint, lavender and rose, was bright yellow. Tucked into the corner behind this, and next to the therapy pool, is a sleeping area (수면실) with unheated flooring.
Like the changing area, the ‘powder room’ felt a little small but as mentioned earlier, this is because I use Migwang Spolex, in Song-so, on a regular basis and it’s very spacious.
Plan
Hyu Lim Won, Dasa. Bathhouse design (male)
Location – (Wiki Map link ) Fifteen minutes by taxi or bus from Song-so. As you enter Da-sa, it is on the left and easily seen. Alternatively, you can use the metro underground from Song-so but it is easier to get to from Daeshil Subway rather than Dasa.
Daegu metro system
Times – 24 hour jjimjilbang (찜질방) and bathhouse.
Facilities – (in process of being researched) 1st floor reception, women’s bathhouse, jjimjilbang, men’s bathhouse, coffee shop, shoe shine, barbers.
Jjimjilbang – (pending)
Bathhouse (men) – around 20 stand up shower facilities and 30-40 seated. Event pool with jacuzzi, (이벤트탕), hot pool (열탕), large warm pool, another unknown pool, large cold pool (냉탕), large therapy pool, steam room, dry sauna, salt sauna, 2 pool room relaxation areas, heated and unheated, changing room.
Cost – bathhouse 5000 Won.
Others – hairdressers, massage and rub downs, parking, cafe. Opposite impressive new development.
Ambiance – not my favourite, I prefer a little more subdued, but impeccably clean, new and bright. I didn’t notice any televisions. Friendly, but I would imagine one of the busier saunas.
Waygukin – None.
Address – Da-sa (다사). Daegu.
Hyu-lim-won Updates
© Nick Elwood 2010. Creative Commons Licence.
Kayasan Hotel Bathhouse – 가야산 관광호텔
Kayasan Hotel (가야산 관광호텔), near Daegu
Before I give an account of the bathhouse, I want to review the hotel because this a truly impressive location and well worth a visit, either for an overnight break or simply for coffee. Kayasan Hotel (가야산), Kyongsangbukdo Province, is around an hours drive from Daegu and is situated in the heart of the Kaya Mountains. This hotel truly impressed me as my first glimpse of it was on an early morning , after substantial snow.
Kayasan Hotel in snow
View from the hotel entrance
Kayasan Hotel entrance
The hotel has a restaurant and cafe, as well as an open-air bar/cafe, situated next to a small cascading waterfall-feature, which is open in good weather. A couple of smaller restaurants, including an adjoining traditional Korean restaurant, are close-by. The hotel sits right by the entrance to a nature park next to which is a natural history museum containing some very interesting displays.
invigorating
Dining room
The hotel is large and spacious and the emphasis on white marble and white tiles, both in the facilities and hotels rooms, gives an airy, if not slightly clinical atmosphere. I found the bedrooms a little strange but pleasant. The one we’d booked was simply, a tiled white room with all the facilities you’d expect but an absence of anything soft either in texture or shape – other that is, than the bedding. Looking thorough the brochure, rooms with western style beds and sofas are available.
a western style bedroom (photo from hotel website)
However, at times I was unsure whether or not I was in a hospital, space ship or heaven and had an angel, nurse, or spaceman appeared, I wouldn’t have been surprised. The lounge, restaurant and cafe maintained the white theme, contrasting it occasionally with black tiling, but were tastefully and luxuriously decorated. The hotel design made maximum use of the panoramic views of the mountains both in the lounge, bathhouse and the more expensive bedrooms.
The grand lounge and bar
panoramic view similar to the ones provided in the bathhouse
open air cafe/bar
Family room korean style (photo from hotel website) Costing about 143.000 Won per night (70 pounds)
I was eager to use the bathhouse as this was a central feature in the hotels advertising and it looked very inviting. If staying in the hotel, entrance is free and the facility is open from 6 am. Once again, pure white tiling pervaded on floors, walls and ceilings. The changing area was very relaxing and spacious though there was an absence of relaxation area with the usual TV screen and snacks. In the bathhouse, the most alluring feature were large arched windows that looked out onto the adjacent mountains and the various pools were designed so you could lounge and admire the view. A number of monks were busy scrubbing each other or shaving their heads and given the Heinsa Temple is close-by, monks are regular visitors. Stereotypically, one doesn’t associate a monk’s lifestyle with opulent bathhouses and grand hotels but I would imagine the hotel bathhouse is a wonderful place in which to meditate.
The bathhouse (photo from Hotel's brochure)
a large geode in one of the saunas
All the standard showers and pools were available, as were saunas. Particularly impressive was a jewel sauna (보석 사우나) which contained an enormous geode which I managed to photograph. I’m also sure there was a salt sauna but I actually can’t remember as, so far, I have only visited the bathhouse on one occasion. However, the panoramic views, monks and secluded mountain location, provided a relaxing and invigorating atmosphere.
the lounge
one of the crystal displays in the lounge
Location
Kayasan Hotel and surrounding area
Facilities – hotel, bathhouse, restaurants, bar, lounge, out door cafe/bar, sport facility, arranged tours, nearby nature park and museum, numerous restaurants, panoramic views and lots more.
Hotel website – http://www.gayasanhotel.co.kr/ Actually, the photos here are limited and do not do the place justice.
Address – 경북 성주군 수륜면 백운리 1282-4. Tel. (0540) 931-3500 Fax. (054) 931-7771
© 林東哲 2010 Creative Commons Licence.
Elwood 5566 
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