Fukuoka Miyuki waits patiently with shopping bags in hand as his wife scours a street vendor’s cart for the perfect pair of socks — bearing the image of her perfect man.
This is no love that dares not speak its name. Miharu Miyuki, 59, will be proud to have the smiling face of actor Bae Yong-Jun adorn her feet. “He is wonderful, great,” she says, as her husband nods with more than a touch of resignation.
Mrs. Miyuki is from Japan, and until recently, she and her daughter Saita, 32, had little interest in Korea. But then Korean soap operas such as Winter Sonata, in which Mr. Bae portrays an amnesiac who falls in love with a woman who may be his half-sister, began to sweep viewers off their feet, first across Asia and more recently across the Pacific.
“We came here because of the television program,” admits Saita Miyuki. “It’s very popular in Japan. We watch it over and over again.”
Much like the British Invasion did in the 1960s, the Korean Wave, known as Hanryu, has been instrumental in reviving tourism and sparking interest throughout the region in all things Korean, from food to culture and history.
Middle-aged Japanese women now refer to the bespectacled Mr. Bae as “Yonsama” (a regal honorary title), and weep like teenagers at his public appearances. One stall in Seoul’s Namdaemun Market sells nothing but items with his face on them, from key chains to journals detailing “daily housework duties.”
Needless to say, the South Korean government is thrilled with the money that Hanryu brings in. Overseas sales of film and television programs have soared, doubling from 2004 to 2005 alone. Nearly six in 10 visitors from southeast Asia come here because of the Wave, according to a survey by the Korean National Tourism Organization.
What’s the big appeal? University of British Columbia anthropology professor Millie Creighton says the soap operas rekindle in viewers a passion for the past.
“In most of these countries, many scholars have written about a resurging nostalgia that seems to have taken hold just around the time they became fully industrialized, modernized and highly westernized,” says Prof. Creighton, who currently teaches in Japan.
“Suddenly, in each case, there seems to be a reverse longing for what might have been lost and a sense of potentially having lost their ‘Asian-ness.’ ”
Inspired by this surging nostalgia, tour operators now offer visits to the sites associated with Winter Sonata and Korea’s other big soap, Jewel in the Palace, which features a maid who rises to become the king’s cook and physician.
Tourists can visit locations where the shows were filmed and re-enact various scenes. On Nami Island, for example, Winter Sonata fans walk along the trail where Mr. Bae’s character and his potential sibling had their first kiss by the lake and rode a bicycle together.
At the Jewel in the Palace set in Yangju City on the outskirts of Seoul — in effect, a television theme park that draws more than 800 visitors a day — they can pretend to serve time in prison for serving up poisoned duck.
Park employee Yeon-Im Kang, who serves up traditional Korean fish cakes to hungry tourists, says she often wonders if the popularity of Jewel will eventually fizzle.
“I was worried because we had almost run out of countries,” she explains. “We’ve had people from Vietnam, from the Philippines, from Singapore. Of course, lots from Japan and China. Even some from Europe.”
A friend pointed out to her that no one had come from North America — and then last month, Ms. Kang was pleased to see a busload of Canadians arrive.
“They told me they were starting to see the show in Canada and that’s why they wanted to come to the site,” she recalls. “I was surprised, but it’s good for business that people everywhere are coming.”
And it’s true that the soaps are beginning to make waves in Canada. Chinese video stores in Vancouver report long waiting lists for rentals, and when the shows appear on satellite TV, the ratings are huge.
Then again, there are signs the Korean Wave may soon crash — and its downfall may stem in part from what has made it so strong.
One Japanese tourist says she initially was attracted to Jewel because it is based on a true story, and then decided to make the trek to Yangju City when she learned of the links between her country and Korea.
“I’m able now to see how the culture transferred to Japan from China through Korea. It was good to learn something I never knew before,” Akiko Fujida explains. “We didn’t think too much about it, but the show has taught us how cultures are connected from things that happened hundreds and hundreds of years ago.”
That connection, however, is too close for some — and a backlash against the Korean Wave has begun. China and Taiwan, for example, now limit the number of hours Korean dramas can air in prime time.
Jewel director Byung-Hoon Lee says he isn’t surprised “I understand. They are worried that too much foreign culture is getting to their people. I had that worry, too, about it happening in Korea, and that’s why I wanted to do Jewel in the Palace.”
He was motivated, he says, by a desire to educate a younger audience. “A lot of today’s youth thought their history was the U.S. history or some other country’s history. I thought this wasn’t right and I wanted to give them a sense of Korean history and culture,” says Mr. Lee, who is now filming a new historical drama.
“Now people in other countries think there’s too much Korean culture, and I know those countries will do the same. Next will be the Philippine Wave or the Vietnam Wave. We’ve had our time, and people will move on.”
Source: globeandmail 1/7/2006
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