For Ella Mitchell, an Australian graphic designer, packing a pair of sunglasses for the office was once part of her daily summer routine. But this summer, the 29-year-old living in Korea swapped her sunglasses for a parasol, or sun umbrella. "Any time I had to go outside at work, whether it was for lunch or a meeting, I'd put on my sunglasses. But I was always the only one wearing them. Everyone else had a sun umbrella," said Mitchell, 29, who moved to South Korea in 2023 and has since worked at

When stress hits at work, Kang Hye-mee’s discipline collapses. The 33-year-old office worker usually eats carefully. Breakfast is a salad, sometimes a protein shake. Health matters to her. Self-control matters. But on difficult days, she reaches for something else entirely: extra-spicy tteokbokki. Her tongue burns. She sweats. Her stomach protests. She has even developed gastritis. Yet the discomfort feels strangely comforting. It feels like relief. “I tell myself I should stop, but more often t

The same questions tend to pop up as the New Year rolls around: What will the year bring? Will things get better? In South Korea, that curiosity often leads people to shamans, making this their busiest time of year. This was especially evident when I contacted a well-known Seoul shaman, known by the pseudonym Jamsil Bosal, in early December. His schedule was not just full for January. It was closed for the entire first half of the year. “Weekday appointments are available starting June 8, 2026,

A few weeks ago, Kim working for a government agency was reprimanded by his boss after a misunderstanding spiraled out of control. The boss, fresh from being scolded by his own superior, turned to Kim with anger in his eyes and demanded, “Do I have to go through this because of you?” Kim froze. He knew the situation had been caused by an unforeseen complication, not by any mistake on his part. He wanted to say, “It wasn’t my fault,” but the words wouldn’t come out. “If I talked back, I thought h

The Korea Herald is launching a new season of "A to Z into the Korean Mind." In the previous series, we explored keywords selected by our staff to delve into the Korean psyche and its cultural nuances. For this second season, we're turning to our readers and answering the questions you've submitted. This installment begins with a question from @ramneeksekhon on Instagram: "Why do young people not wear colorful clothes?" — Ed. When Isabel Smith, 32, first arrived in Seoul from the United States a

Even after two years of teaching English at an elementary school in Seoul, Clare Mitchell from Canada still finds herself surprised by her students’ after-lunch ritual of brushing their teeth together in the restroom. “When you brush your teeth, you spit and sometimes bits of food come out. It’s not exactly something you want to show others. Watching kids do it so casually, even from such a young age, was a bit of a shock,” she told The Korea Herald. Back in her country, personal grooming ritual

The Korea Herald is launching a new season of "A to Z into the Korean Mind." In the previous series, we explored keywords selected by our staff to delve into the Korean psyche and its cultural nuances. For this second season, we're turning to our readers and answering the questions you've submitted. The first installment begins with a question from @0214sam on Instagram: "Why are Korean weddings so fast?" — Ed. In Korea, speed and efficiency define almost every aspect of life, and weddings are

In Korea, it doesn’t matter if generational labels make sense. They just need to go viral. "They all started as marketing terms. But as social descriptors that actually reflect reality? 'MZ' was too broad and vague. 'Young Forty' is politically charged. But in a crowded culture, lazy categories always win, I guess," Chun Young-woo, 43, a marketing executive at Seoul-based Metric Studio, told The Korea Herald. "MZ Generation" is a blurry hybrid of Millennials and Generation Z that landed in Korea

When "I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki" appeared in 2018, it opened up something rare in Korean publishing. Part memoir, part therapeutic dialogue, the book was grounded in the author’s experience of clinical depression. Classified as a “Korean Essay” by local bookstores, it stood out because it offered a vulnerable personal narrative. Seven years on, the same category looks very different. Bookstores across South Korea showcase row after row of pastel-colored volumes repeating variati

As the election nears, South Korea’s presidential hopefuls are once again lowering themselves — literally — before voters. Kneeling down, they bow deeply, bending their entire upper bodies until their faces nearly, or even fully, touch the ground. This traditional gesture, rooted in Confucian customs, is one of the highest forms of respect and expressions of obedience in Korea — typically reserved for parents or ancestors during rituals. During election season, however, these deep bows transform