Archive

Archive for April 23rd, 2009

(515) Working Girls

April 23rd, 2009

Korea Times
04-23-2009 15:55

By Andrei Lankov

One of the most frequently discussed topics in the Korean press of the 1920s was the rise of a new social group: employed women. This was seen as a novelty ― and indeed it was one.

This does not mean that in earlier eras Korean women remained idly at home. This might be true in regard to women belonging to the affluent gentry, but they formed a tiny minority, hardly more than 1-2 percent of all Korean females.

Most women worked. They were weeding the fields, planting and harvesting rice, making clothes, and bringing water from distant wells. But they were not paid for their work, and their labor was to the benefit of their families. According to the modern (capitalist) logic, theirs was not “real work.”

Only in the late 1910s did some women begin to look for paid employment. Once again, the vast majority of the newly employed females went from paddy fields to the factories (usually, but not necessarily, this was a change for the better).

But these poor, semi-literate girls had no choice; their families were either unable or unwilling to feed them until they got married.

Educated elite women were a different story. In most cases, they were driven to work not by poverty but by their wish to acquire “economic independence.”

In the West, educated women began to join the workforce around 1890. In earlier times, girls from “good families” were supposed to stay at home, but from the 1890s, there was a growing labor market for female white-collar workers.

Of course, it was supposed that normally, a woman would not work after marriage, and nobody would seriously consider promoting a woman, even to a low level managerial position. But this was still a major break with the past.

The changes began in Germany and the U.S. but the new trends reached Korea only after the First World War, in the 1920s (and via Japan, of course).

From 1919, Korean girls could be employed as phone operators. In those days, before the introduction of dialing, connections at a telephone exchange had to be made manually.

Girls spent their work time near large switchboards, plugging and unplugging wires. The work required concentration ― and other qualities as well.

In order to get such a job, an applicant had to have some formal education, a pleasant voice and be taller than 143 cm (smaller girls could not reach the upper part of a switchboard).

In January 1920, Cho Su-ja became the first Korean woman to get a clerical job at a bank (Chohung Bank).

Cho soon was transferred to Tokyo, so all the attendant fame was passed on to Kim Saeng-ryo, who became a bank employee in December 1921. It was said that her presence attracted visitors to the bank branch where she worked.

For the less educated, there were positions as sales assistants in the new department stores. The shop owners soon discovered that the presence of girls with good looks could increase sales and began to hire female staff.

In those times, however, being a “shop girl” was seen as a low middle-class occupation, suitable for the educated minority. Farm girls would not get such jobs, which required literacy and numeracy ― skills which the average country girl seldom had until the late 1930s.

And a “shop girl” also had to have a reasonably sophisticated appearance. Girl typists could be found in Korea as well, but in much smaller numbers than in Western countries.

The reasons were linguistic. Until the 1960s, Korean documents used a large number of Chinese characters, which could not be typed with any convenience (there were some Chinese typewriters, but these contraptions were remarkably slow and cumbersome).

Thus, documents usually had to be handwritten. And, of course, most of them were compiled in Japanese anyway (with the same abundance of Chinese characters).

Elite working women included professionals: female doctors, journalists, and artists. But they were few and far between, since in Korea women could not receive a university education.

Thus, all female professionals had to study overseas, ensuring that their numbers remained small. Few Korean families had money to pay for overseas studies, and only a fraction of those who did would be willing to spend such an exorbitant sum on their daughters ― or sons.

Thus, these female professionals were an elite and saw themselves as such.

Female teachers of primary and middle schools formed a much larger group. Being a teacher was not as glamorous and lucrative as, say, being a doctor, but it was still a prestigious and reasonably well-paid position.

In 1930, the average female teacher would be paid 48 won a month ― that is, twice the average salary of an unskilled female worker.

It was commonly understood that a woman worked only until she married ― with some professionals being an exception. Married life was seen as incompatible with work, and this view was commonly held by women themselves.

Perhaps such was really the case, since in the era before gas stoves, vacuum cleaners and running water, mundane family tasks were very time-consuming, leaving almost no time for anything else.

The system of obligatory or near-obligatory retirement of married women lasted until the 1980s, when the growth of feminist consciousness and technological changes finally made work and family compatible.

Prof. Andrei Lankov was born in St. Petersburg, Russia, and now teaches at Kookmin University in Seoul. He has recently published “The Dawn of Modern Korea,” which is now on sale at Kyobo Book Center and other major bookstores. The book is based on columns published in The Korea Times. He can be reached at anlankov@yahoo.com.

News Clippings

Steamy Kalguksu at Seafood Kaljebi

April 23rd, 2009

Korea Times
04-23-2009 21:09

090423_p11_kaljebi
Enjoy steamy kalguksu at “Seafood Kaljebi.”

By Han Sang-hee
Staff Reporter

When it is chilly, nothing is better than a warm dish of hearty noodles. With the rain and wind coming and going this spring, we paid a visit to a small noodle restaurant near Chungmuro, the homeland of Korean cinema, to brush off the chill.

Opened in 1982, “Seafood Kaljebi” offers various noodle dishes, well known to the Korean public as “kalguksu,” or hand rolled noodles with a thick broth made with seafood, chicken or anchovies.
The word “kaljebi” is a combined form of “kalguksu” and another local recipe, “sujebi.”

Kalguksu is made of noodles that are hand rolled and cut with a sharp knife, “kal” in Korean. “Guksu” means noodles.

Sujebi is known to have stemmed from kalguksu and is made with flakes instead of noodles. Instead of making noodles, the maker would tear off small pieces of the dough, which is made with wheat, flour or even potatoes and barley, and serve it with the same steamy hot soup.

Thus, kaljebi has both noodles and flakes in one dish.

The restaurant is small with about 10 tables, and the kitchen is open for patrons to see their food being prepared. Perhaps because it is located in Chungmuro, guests can find movie posters hung up on the walls and even a scene printed on the menu-board.

The menu includes the basics: From seafood kalguksu and sujebi, alongside bibimbap, mandu soup, naengmyeon, or cold buckwheat noodles, and even ramyeon.

We ordered the most popular: Seafood kaljebi (4,500 won) and the ordinary handmade kalgukso (4,500 won). On the table you can find bowls of kimchi that you can take out yourself and as soon as we made our order, the waiter brought us a small bowl of rice and kkakdugi, diced radish kimchi, to enjoy with the hot dishes.

“The kkakdugi is also one of our specialties! We can guarantee that you’ll love them,” the owner said, and indeed they were delicious.

The kaljebi and kalguksu were more than we expected. They came in a large bowl, which was too hot to even touch, sprinkled with dried seaweed flakes.

The seafood kaljebi was delicious, perfect for rainy days and the shrimp, mussels and small clams complemented the whole dish. The noodles were chewy and the flakes were just the right size, not too thick or thin. It might have been a more scrumptious dish if there was a bit more seafood, but nonetheless it was a warm treat.

The handmade kalguksu, however, was a bit plain, compared to the kaljebi. With bits of onion, squash and also sprinkled with the seaweed flakes, the soup was tasty, but nothing surprising.

Overall, the trip to “Seafood Kaljebi” was a treat, but follow the name of the restaurant to feel the true taste of one of Korea’s favorite noodle recipes. The two dishes are also served in a spicier version, so be sure to tell the waiter which one you prefer.

“Seafood Kaljebi” is located behind the Kukdong Building near Chungmuro station on subway line 3. It is closed on Sundays ― opening hours are from 6 a.m. to 10 p.m. For more information, call (02) 2277-5355 (Korean).

sanghee@koreatimes.co.kr

News Clippings

(32) BASEBALL III

April 23rd, 2009

Korea Times
04-23-2009 16:34

090423_p22_baseball

News Clippings