Like the Japanese, Taiwanese, and other Asians who got their first real taste of freedom following the end of World War II and the introduction of democratic principles into their lives, Koreans take their dong ari seriously, devoting a great deal of time and money to them. They represent a degree and kind of freedom never before experienced in Korea, even among the elite yangban class and members of the royal court, and are symbolic of the extraordinary progress Korea has made since the 1960s.
In addition to their importance in the social emancipation of Koreans, the rapid growth of dong ari made a significant contribution to the emergence of Korea’s mass market by increasing the demand for recreational supplies, accessories, and equipment of all kinds, from books to hiking boots.
Foreign residents in Korea who want to expand their personal and professional networks of friends and colleagues should look into joining one or more appropriate dong ari.
Enuri 엔울이 Eh-nuu-ree
Bargaining as a Social Skill
In most old societies bargaining was a natural part of economic exchange because there were no universally recognized principles for establishing set prices for goods or labor. Everything was a matter of personal choice. Korea is one of the many societies around the world in which enuri (eh-nuu-ree), or “bargaining,” has survived as an important economic and cultural activity, especially in public markets and among smaller, family-operated businesses.
Since enuri has long been part of the regular social intercourse of Koreans they are generally good enough at it that they do not feel they are at a disadvantage when dealing with established merchants. Where sidewalk vendors are concerned, however, they are cautious but take pride in being able to hold their own.
Visitors in Korea who have not had any experience in bargaining tend to feel very uncomfortable when faced with a choice of haggling or paying an inflated price—especially when there is a language problem. The first experience that foreign travelers have with bargaining in Korea is often at one of Seoul’s two huge public markets, the famous Tongdaemun (Tohng-day-muun), “Great East Gate,” or Nandaemun (Nahn-day-muun), “Great South Gate,” or in Itaewon (E-tay-wahn), Seoul’s most famous tourist shopping and entertainment district, where hundreds of shops and sidewalk vendors compete for buyers.
Supermarket chains, department stores, and other first-line retailers in Korea have fixed prices on their products, and customers are not expected to bargain. (But I have received discounts of 10 percent in name department stores in Seoul simply by asking for them—a special service they may extend to foreign customers who buy several relatively expensive items.)
Veteran foreign bargainers in Korea advise that shoppers in places where bargaining is the accepted practice carefully scrutinize any item they are interested in, especially internationally known brand items, because it may turn out to be an unlicensed copy. Another thing to look for is any kind of flaw. In either case, it is usually best to start out with a casual offer that ranges from 60 to 70 percent of the asking price. Of course, shoppers have to be willing to walk away if vendors refuse to accept their offers. But in the larger shopping districts the same items are usually sold by several vendors, so there are a number of opportunities.
Koreans have traditionally been skilled bargainers, whether in public markets or business offices, because the nature of their class- and rank-based society made it imperative that they develop substantial verbal skills and learn how to deal with people on an emotional basis. Present-day Korean society is much less hierarchical and hidebound than it was during the country’s long pre-modern period, but enough of the traditional culture remains that the same kind of skills are still essential in both private and public matters.
Bargaining sessions involving groups are often noisy affairs at which many people may talk at the same time, often in loud voices, in a traditional process that is known as chugoni-batkoni (chuu-goh-nee baht-koh-nee), which means “give-and-take,” something at which most Koreans are masters. Another well-used old term referring to several people haggling over something is oksinkaksin (ohk-sheen-kahk-sheen), which might be translated as “pushing back and forth.”
Western business and political negotiators who have been conditioned to depend on facts and logic rather than emotion and verbal skills often find themselves seriously disadvantaged in dealing with their Korean counterparts. There is a major element of stagecraft in Korean bargaining techniques that simply floors people who are not skilled in using theatrics to achieve their goals.
Haengbok 행복 Hang-bohk
The Pursuit of Happiness
The founders of the United States of America believed that human beings have the right to be happy and that they should have the freedom to strive for happiness—something that neither religions nor social contracts anywhere in the world had formally recognized up to that time.
In Korea, as elsewhere, the concept of haengbok (hang-bohk), or “happiness,” as a birthright was totally alien—first because the lives of most people were routinely hard and often cruel and second because they had virtually no control over the quality of their lives. In this environment, haengbok was a rare and incidental thing. People came to believe that happiness was something dispensed by the gods in heaven—not something that they could or should strive for on their own. Happiness was therefore something that came to people who were favored by the gods and was more a matter of luck than a reward for hard work or righteous living.
According to Korean essayist Kyu Tae Yi, people who claimed to be or appeared to be happy in pre-modern Korea were often viewed by the majority with suspicion because they themselves were unable to experience happiness. It was not until the political freedom and economic progress of the 1960s and 1970s that ordinary Koreans for the first time in the history of the country were able to achieve a level of affluence and security that allowed them to experience haengbok over relatively long periods of time.
Surveys today indicate that Koreans in general are “fairly happy.” For the first time their more important material and sensual needs are being met and they acknowledge regularly enjoying themselves by eating and drinking with family and friends, traveling, and attending or participating in cultural events. In fact, many in the upper middle class and upper class now indulge themselves in a surfeit of material and sensual pleasures in a pendulum reaction to the hardships of earlier times. While they may not describe themselves as “happy,” their level of manjok (mahn-joak), or “satisfaction,” is the highest it has ever been.
Koreans say that the biggest obstacle to happiness in the country today is the authoritarianism and elitism that still pervades the political and economic systems, despite progress that has been made in democratizing the presidency and society in general. These complaints are primarily about the bureaucratic nature of the government and the militaristic approach to both government and business management that continues to prevail in Korea.
Having tasted intellectual and spiritual freedom for the first time in their history, Koreans yearn for freedom from other restraints as well. But they are also beset by a dilemma, by the question of whether or not giving up more and more of their traditional ways will, in fact, lead to more happiness or to the kind of social ills that now plague the United States and other Western countries.
This dilemma represents one of the greatest social challenges the Koreans have ever faced. But of all the people in the Confucian sphere of Asia, they are much more likely to be successful in retaining the best parts of their traditional culture while pursuing the haengbok that is possible only in a society that guarantees the right as well as the means for achieving happiness.
Hakgajok 학갖족 Hahk-gah-joak
Two-Generation Families
