Post by ajk on Aug 5, 2013 15:54:16 GMT -5
Interesting article in today's New York Times about how hard it is for South Koreans to find spouses these days because of a lot of recent cultural changes. Front page!
The article is best read here: www.nytimes.com/2013/08/05/world/asia/mom-wants-you-married-so-does-the-state.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0
But I'll also post the text here so that we have it here permanently. (If anybody from the NYT finds this and objects, just say the word and I'll delete it.)
August 4, 2013
Mom Wants You Married? So Does the State
By SU-HYUN LEE
SEOUL, South Korea — As hopeful singles at the speed dating event shifted from table to table introducing themselves, Park Chang-won, a 32-year-old firefighter, grew more and more morose.
By the time he reached the last table, Mr. Park, whose dark eyebrows give him a brooding look, was uttering only his name and age. Then he sank into silence.
“It felt awkward from the outset,” Mr. Park said later, as he explained that a lifetime spent around men — at boys’ schools, the military and now as a fireman — had made meeting women harder.
Anywhere else, Mr. Park’s dating woes might have been strictly personal. But in South Korea, fretful about plummeting birthrates but still tied to conservative ideas about matchmaking, solving the difficulties of the lovelorn has become something of a national priority. In perhaps the surest sign of that anxiety, the event he attended was one of dozens of dating parties nationwide sponsored by an unlikely matchmaker, the government.
In a country where arranged courtships are fading into the past, the Ministry of Health and Welfare began promoting the idea of dating parties in 2010. Under the enthusiastic leadership of its minister at the time, Cheon Jae-hee, it held four parties that year that brought together its workers and employees at local corporations — making a splash in the news media. Ms. Cheon officiated at the wedding of the first couple who met at one. Featured in a magazine article before the wedding, the 31-year-old groom-to-be thanked the government profusely and wondered if two children would be enough to meet expectations.
Since then, sponsorship of the parties has shifted mainly to ministry affiliates and local governments, which can win financial rewards for activities that promote marriage and childbirth. The municipal government that threw the party Mr. Park attended has been named a role model by the city of Seoul. One government-financed agency, the Planned Population Federation of Korea, claims a different kind of victory: by hosting parties, it is working to undo its past success when it encouraged vasectomies as a booming South Korea feared being held back by population growth.
Government officials are not the only ones trying to replace the traditional matchmakers that many young people consider increasingly old-fashioned. Corporations, fearing critical shortages of workers in an aging society, have begun ending informal bans against office romances, with some now paying for dating services for their workers. College students have leapt online to set up mass dating events, including a much-publicized flash-mob blind date last winter in downtown Seoul. And entrepreneurs have opened bars where waiters serve as informal go-betweens.
There are online dating services as well, but many young Koreans remain uncomfortable searching for a partner on their own. Most prefer to rely on the companies to take their information and make the match for them.
So far, though, the results of these efforts have been mixed. Korean society is organized around group affiliations — hometown ties and school and corporate friendships — so meeting a potential spouse without formal introductions to merit family approval has proved difficult, even for those enamored with the concept.
“I usually date girls I get set up with by my friends, but tonight I came to this party to find someone naturally,” said Yang Sung-mo, 29, who tucked a dapper purple handkerchief into his blazer pocket to attend a bar event for singles. “Still, I doubt it’s going to work unless I am introduced.”
Until the 1980s, young people relied on matchmakers and family connections to find spouses, sociologists say. With so many people living in ancestral villages, it was easy for parents to find good matches for their children. Among the criteria considered: family status and birth dates checked by fortune tellers for compatibility.
Those practices waned as industrialization started an exodus to South Korean cities. Far from traditional networks, families turned to a growing number of dating services that performed background checks. And young people turned to friends whose role is taken seriously enough that they receive gifts at weddings. (Standard thank you presents include tailored suits and cash.)
But in recent years, urban youth exposed to the West begun to complain that even the less formal blind dates set up by friends were stressful.
“I want to meet someone I feel for,” said Lee Su-seong, 29, who waited nervously with a group of friends at the Blue Ketchup Bar in Seoul, where waiters hand out “Cupid cards” from admirers as an icebreaker.
The catch with such unorthodox approaches, said Hahm In-hee, a professor of sociology at Ewha Womans University, is that society has not been prepared for such a radical change.
“Approaching or socializing with someone you don’t know at all feels very unfamiliar to Koreans,” she said. “It is very awkward to mingle with someone without knowing who the other person’s parents are, where they are from, etc.”
Of all the new approaches now being tried, the flash mob was the most famous failure. About 3,000 young people showed up at sprawling Yoido Plaza, despite frigid temperatures. At 3:24 p.m. their phones rang, signaling that the date hunting could begin, but the crowd suffered a case of mass jitters. (It did not help that the police were dispatched to chaperon the event because parents were afraid of sexual assaults.)
The event fizzled in 10 minutes, though the organizer said that about 100 couples managed to arrange a first date.
The heart of the problem, local officials and others say, is that South Koreans have gotten ahead of themselves. As the country modernizes rapidly, many of its urban youth are chafing not only at arranged courtships but also at dates arranged by friends. Mr. Park avoids matches set up by his family, but says countless blind dates arranged by his friends have too often left him stammering through small talk with women who are not interested in him, or he in them.
Still, he and most other young South Koreans are not yet comfortable with the Western notion of casual dating as a path to finding a spouse, and the idea of approaching a stranger to start of a meaningful relationship sends many into spasms of shyness.
But social mores are slowly shifting. Sociologists say young people are generally more open to premarital sex than past generations were, and with most living at home until they get married, they have found ways to escape parents’ prying eyes, including ducking into love hotels. But those changes do not diminish the need for proper introductions for serious relationships.
The difficulties in meeting potential spouses have exacerbated an increasing tendency among South Koreans to marry late. As young women have gotten better jobs, analysts say, many are loath to give them up to shepherd children through a hypercompetitive education system and care for aging in-laws.
In 2011, the average age of a first marriage for South Korean women hit 29.14, up from 24.8 in 1990; for men it jumped to 31.8 from 27.9 in 1990. The birthrate sunk to 1.15 children per woman, the lowest among the world’s most developed countries.
Young people and researchers say the situation has worsened as South Koreans born into greater wealth have become more materialistic and status conscious.
“Korean women are too picky with all sorts of criteria, including which college the guy goes to, and whether or not he has a car,” said Yu Tae-hyeong, who set up the flash mob. Men, he said, are more concerned with women’s looks.
So far, several young people said, the government matchmaking parties have proved the best mix of old and new. Local officials perform thorough background checks, matchmaker-style, but once everyone is vetted, officials encourage them to mingle freely.
That is little comfort for the hapless Mr. Park from the speed dating party.
In the end, he abandoned all caution when the organizers asked if anyone would publicly say who they most wanted to meet. He pointed to a woman with an infectious grin who he respected for not trying to hide her braces, then knelt to present her with a bouquet provided by the party planners.
She covered her face with her hands and refused to give him her phone number. Later, she and her friends left with a group of young men. Mr. Park was not invited.
“I guess I will continue the introduction thing through friends,” he said later. “But I think praying is the only answer.”
The article is best read here: www.nytimes.com/2013/08/05/world/asia/mom-wants-you-married-so-does-the-state.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0
But I'll also post the text here so that we have it here permanently. (If anybody from the NYT finds this and objects, just say the word and I'll delete it.)
August 4, 2013
Mom Wants You Married? So Does the State
By SU-HYUN LEE
SEOUL, South Korea — As hopeful singles at the speed dating event shifted from table to table introducing themselves, Park Chang-won, a 32-year-old firefighter, grew more and more morose.
By the time he reached the last table, Mr. Park, whose dark eyebrows give him a brooding look, was uttering only his name and age. Then he sank into silence.
“It felt awkward from the outset,” Mr. Park said later, as he explained that a lifetime spent around men — at boys’ schools, the military and now as a fireman — had made meeting women harder.
Anywhere else, Mr. Park’s dating woes might have been strictly personal. But in South Korea, fretful about plummeting birthrates but still tied to conservative ideas about matchmaking, solving the difficulties of the lovelorn has become something of a national priority. In perhaps the surest sign of that anxiety, the event he attended was one of dozens of dating parties nationwide sponsored by an unlikely matchmaker, the government.
In a country where arranged courtships are fading into the past, the Ministry of Health and Welfare began promoting the idea of dating parties in 2010. Under the enthusiastic leadership of its minister at the time, Cheon Jae-hee, it held four parties that year that brought together its workers and employees at local corporations — making a splash in the news media. Ms. Cheon officiated at the wedding of the first couple who met at one. Featured in a magazine article before the wedding, the 31-year-old groom-to-be thanked the government profusely and wondered if two children would be enough to meet expectations.
Since then, sponsorship of the parties has shifted mainly to ministry affiliates and local governments, which can win financial rewards for activities that promote marriage and childbirth. The municipal government that threw the party Mr. Park attended has been named a role model by the city of Seoul. One government-financed agency, the Planned Population Federation of Korea, claims a different kind of victory: by hosting parties, it is working to undo its past success when it encouraged vasectomies as a booming South Korea feared being held back by population growth.
Government officials are not the only ones trying to replace the traditional matchmakers that many young people consider increasingly old-fashioned. Corporations, fearing critical shortages of workers in an aging society, have begun ending informal bans against office romances, with some now paying for dating services for their workers. College students have leapt online to set up mass dating events, including a much-publicized flash-mob blind date last winter in downtown Seoul. And entrepreneurs have opened bars where waiters serve as informal go-betweens.
There are online dating services as well, but many young Koreans remain uncomfortable searching for a partner on their own. Most prefer to rely on the companies to take their information and make the match for them.
So far, though, the results of these efforts have been mixed. Korean society is organized around group affiliations — hometown ties and school and corporate friendships — so meeting a potential spouse without formal introductions to merit family approval has proved difficult, even for those enamored with the concept.
“I usually date girls I get set up with by my friends, but tonight I came to this party to find someone naturally,” said Yang Sung-mo, 29, who tucked a dapper purple handkerchief into his blazer pocket to attend a bar event for singles. “Still, I doubt it’s going to work unless I am introduced.”
Until the 1980s, young people relied on matchmakers and family connections to find spouses, sociologists say. With so many people living in ancestral villages, it was easy for parents to find good matches for their children. Among the criteria considered: family status and birth dates checked by fortune tellers for compatibility.
Those practices waned as industrialization started an exodus to South Korean cities. Far from traditional networks, families turned to a growing number of dating services that performed background checks. And young people turned to friends whose role is taken seriously enough that they receive gifts at weddings. (Standard thank you presents include tailored suits and cash.)
But in recent years, urban youth exposed to the West begun to complain that even the less formal blind dates set up by friends were stressful.
“I want to meet someone I feel for,” said Lee Su-seong, 29, who waited nervously with a group of friends at the Blue Ketchup Bar in Seoul, where waiters hand out “Cupid cards” from admirers as an icebreaker.
The catch with such unorthodox approaches, said Hahm In-hee, a professor of sociology at Ewha Womans University, is that society has not been prepared for such a radical change.
“Approaching or socializing with someone you don’t know at all feels very unfamiliar to Koreans,” she said. “It is very awkward to mingle with someone without knowing who the other person’s parents are, where they are from, etc.”
Of all the new approaches now being tried, the flash mob was the most famous failure. About 3,000 young people showed up at sprawling Yoido Plaza, despite frigid temperatures. At 3:24 p.m. their phones rang, signaling that the date hunting could begin, but the crowd suffered a case of mass jitters. (It did not help that the police were dispatched to chaperon the event because parents were afraid of sexual assaults.)
The event fizzled in 10 minutes, though the organizer said that about 100 couples managed to arrange a first date.
The heart of the problem, local officials and others say, is that South Koreans have gotten ahead of themselves. As the country modernizes rapidly, many of its urban youth are chafing not only at arranged courtships but also at dates arranged by friends. Mr. Park avoids matches set up by his family, but says countless blind dates arranged by his friends have too often left him stammering through small talk with women who are not interested in him, or he in them.
Still, he and most other young South Koreans are not yet comfortable with the Western notion of casual dating as a path to finding a spouse, and the idea of approaching a stranger to start of a meaningful relationship sends many into spasms of shyness.
But social mores are slowly shifting. Sociologists say young people are generally more open to premarital sex than past generations were, and with most living at home until they get married, they have found ways to escape parents’ prying eyes, including ducking into love hotels. But those changes do not diminish the need for proper introductions for serious relationships.
The difficulties in meeting potential spouses have exacerbated an increasing tendency among South Koreans to marry late. As young women have gotten better jobs, analysts say, many are loath to give them up to shepherd children through a hypercompetitive education system and care for aging in-laws.
In 2011, the average age of a first marriage for South Korean women hit 29.14, up from 24.8 in 1990; for men it jumped to 31.8 from 27.9 in 1990. The birthrate sunk to 1.15 children per woman, the lowest among the world’s most developed countries.
Young people and researchers say the situation has worsened as South Koreans born into greater wealth have become more materialistic and status conscious.
“Korean women are too picky with all sorts of criteria, including which college the guy goes to, and whether or not he has a car,” said Yu Tae-hyeong, who set up the flash mob. Men, he said, are more concerned with women’s looks.
So far, several young people said, the government matchmaking parties have proved the best mix of old and new. Local officials perform thorough background checks, matchmaker-style, but once everyone is vetted, officials encourage them to mingle freely.
That is little comfort for the hapless Mr. Park from the speed dating party.
In the end, he abandoned all caution when the organizers asked if anyone would publicly say who they most wanted to meet. He pointed to a woman with an infectious grin who he respected for not trying to hide her braces, then knelt to present her with a bouquet provided by the party planners.
She covered her face with her hands and refused to give him her phone number. Later, she and her friends left with a group of young men. Mr. Park was not invited.
“I guess I will continue the introduction thing through friends,” he said later. “But I think praying is the only answer.”
