Monday 23 January 2012 in Seoul was like a scene from an apocalyptic movie. Streets in this booming metropolis were eerily silent, with barely any of the eighteen or so million people who live within 90 minutes of its downtown. Restaurants were closed, and shop shutters pulled down. Perhaps the only noise was the sound of airborne garbage blown around by the arctic winds howling down from Siberia.
Lunar New Year sees the traditional mass exodus from the capital as families pack their bags and take off on buses, car or trains to visit their relatives in the country. Journeys that would normally take three to fours hours suddenly take ten, and that’s if you leave early enough.
For those remaining in the city, however, there were luxuries normally out of reach, such as seats on the subway, taxies at every corner and tables free in those restaurants that stayed open.
The following day, as the population headed home in ridiculously slow time, news agencies reported that South Korea “aims to attract 11 million foreign tourists in 2012” which would be a jump of 12.4 per cent from the previous year. If this is to be achieved, according to the Korea Trade Organisation, then for the fourth consecutive year there would be “double digit growth which could translate into earnings of $11.7bn”.
In 2007, just over six million people holidayed in South Korea, making it the 36th most visited country in the world. That number jumped to 8.5 million two years ago, and is likely to climb again this year. But the question most foreign residents here would like to ask is: why? Why is South Korea experiencing a doubling of its tourist numbers, despite global economic concerns, in just six years?
The common consensus is that South Korea is a fine country to live in as a foreigner. It’s relatively cheap (certainly compared to where most of us come from) and safe, has a good living standard, and the people, food and culture are all very agreeable.
According to various travel blogs and websites, star attractions include a few palaces in Seoul (granted, they are wonderful) as well as the semi-tropical island of Jeju and the historic city of Gyeongju. But about the only site unique to the region is the Demilitarised Zone (DMZ) that separates North and South Korea, and this doesn’t feature as highly on the recommended lists.
However, these reasons alone wouldn’t bring you 12,000km on a plane. Most of the main tourist attractions were destroyed during the 1950-53 war and what remains isn’t much different from what can be found closer to home.
So where are the tourists coming from? Well understandably, the largest number of travellers are from South Korea’s closest neighbours, such as Japan and China. The Japanese flock for the cheap shopping in the Myeongdong area of Seoul, but most arrive for the Asian phenomenon that is Korean TV dramas.
Such has been the success of locally produced TV and music shows that Seoul and the rest of the country have been able to change the direction of tourist ventures by cashing on in the stars that are regularly found on TV sets across the Far East. Japanese women, it is claimed, will arrive at the ferry terminal at Busan or any of the country’s airports seeking look-alikes of celebrities such as Ahn Jae-wook – handsome and talented Korean actors who are also, and very importantly, ‘gentlemen’.
It’s hard to escape the cult of celebrity, and the numerous images on street-side billboards are as much about advertising as they are for the hordes of Chinese and Japanese visitors looking for their own Korean built in the image of their TV heroes – and South Korea’s own obsession with the same.
Andrew Farrell works as an English language teacher in Korea.
