By Boye Lafayette De Mente

Korean social authorities explain their national penchant for vigorous entertainment as part of their traditional philosophical emphasis on the here-and-now--not waiting for the promise of good times in some afterlife. Another obvious factor in the traditional popularity of taejop in Korea is that life for most Koreans was extremely hard most of the time, and when they had an opportunity to enjoy themselves they were not restrained by the idea of saving anything or themselves for some other time. Equally important was the fact that the only time people could dispense with the highly stylized and restrictive etiquette that made up the heart of the social system was when they were engaged in a party that included drinking.

The most common form of taejop in Korea is food and drink--copious amounts of mostly spicy food that is always accompanied by equally large amounts of beer, wine or whisky--whether the location is a private home, a restaurant or an inn. Drinking alcoholic beverages has long been an especially important ingredient in Korean entertainment because their traditional etiquette was so strict that it prevented them from revealing their true character and personality except when they were drinking.

Still today Koreans believe they cannot really get to know people until they have gotten drunk with them and seen behind their masks of manners and moral pretensions. Because of this, a great deal of business and other important matters in Korea are conducted in restaurants, inns and other public places that specialize in providing good food, drinks, dancing, singing and a high level of service.

Entertainment does not come cheaply, and it goes without saying that businessmen who are hosted at such parties are expected to reciprocate at the first opportunity--something that has made the night-time entertainment trade one of the biggest industries in Korea. And while the role of kisaeng (kee-sang) houses, cabarets and night clubs in doing business in Korea has been diminishing steadily since the 1980s, there is little likelihood that it will disappear altogether because it is too deeply rooted in the culture and its attractions are too deeply ensconced in the male psyche.

Foreign business people are not exempted from the demands of business taejop in Korea. They too are aggressively and often expensively entertained, and failure to follow this deeply entrenched Korean custom can have decidedly negative effects on a budding relationship.

Singing Your Way to Success

Westerners visiting Korea for more than a few days, and especially if they take up residence there, are inevitably presented with a challenge that few are capable of meeting with sufficient aplomb or skill to avoid being embarrassed, much less impress anyone. The challenge they are faced with is going to a noraebang (no-ray-bahng), or "singing salon," more often than not to perform a solo act before an audience; something that the average Westerner has never done in his or her lifetime.

Norae, or song, was traditionally an integral part of Korean culture, first as Shamanistic rituals and celebrations that all people were required to participate in, then as personal and public entertainment in which everyone took part. Chinese travelers in Korea around 1000 B.C. reported that it was customary in some of the tribal nations they visited for the people to gather around open fires and hold impromptu song fests. One tribe was described as devoting the entire month of October to an ongoing celebration called Muchon (Muu-chohn), or "Dancing to Heaven."

Korean records show that it was customary for the royal courts of the various kingdoms to maintain troupes of professional singers and dancers to entertain the royal family, ministers and state guests. Singing was part of the training, and part of the normal activities, of the famed hwarang (whah-rahng) warrior corps that appeared during the mid-years of the Shilla dynasty (57 B.C.-A.D. 669). A special kind of stylized theatrical entertainment that included dancing as well as singing, called kamaugiak (kah-mou-ghee-ahk), also dates from this period. (Japan's kabuki theater, which appeared some one thousand years later, was the Japanese equivalent of kamaugiak.)

Probably the most famous of the "singing groups" in early Korea were the kisaeng, young women trained in playing musical instruments, singing, dancing and conversation to make them suitable companions and concubines for men of the upper class--an institution that originated some 2,000 years ago and survived into modern times. Singing has also continued to be a mainstay of the shaman and other religious rituals that are common in Korea.

As time passed, all Koreans began singing for the pleasure of it, and over the millennia amassed a large number of folk tunes that became an integral part of the culture. All Korean children learned how to sing a number of these folk tunes as part of their upbringing. But unlike some societies, Koreans did not stop singing when they became adults. Everybody sang at festivals, parties and other special occasions, in groups as well as solo. Until the post-World War II era, the mainstay repertoire of professional entertainers as well as common people were folk songs. Professional singers also specialized in "epic story" songs that glorified the history of Korea.

The traditional lifestyle that resulted in Koreans developing professional-like skill in singing persisted until well up into the 20th century, and although the lifestyle has changed dramatically most Koreans can still sing well enough to be confident about performing individually. One of the reasons for this is another tradition that is known as jang ki (jahng kee), which literally means "favorite technique," and refers to the custom for Koreans to practice some kind of entertainment skill--generally singing--on their own and in private.

While virtually all Koreans have traditionally gained some skill in singing when they were children, many people took it upon themselves to develop their singing ability well above the average in order to surprise and impress their friends and give themselves both a social and professional advantage--goals that led them to spend a significant amount of time honing their jang ki.

This tradition of singing is still alive and well in Korea--and not surprisingly was given an extraordinary boost by the great karaoke (kah-rah-oh-kay) boom that began in Japan in the 1970s and swept the world during the 1980s. Koreans naturally expect non-Koreans to sing just like they do, and are surprised and disappointed when they discover that most Westerners can't sing their way of a paper bag and are so intimidated by the idea that they often refuse to try. This cultural difference is a considerable handicap for Westerners in Korea, including businesspeople who are there on short trips, because they are almost always put in a situation--in a bar or at a banquet party--where they are expected to sing.

The importance of singing in Korean culture comes as a surprise to most Westerners, probably because of the image they have of Korea as a cold, rugged country, and of Koreans as serious-minded, work-oriented people not given to levity or frivolous behavior. But behind their masks of formal decorum and obsessive ambition, Koreans are a fun-loving people given to puns, jokes, humorous stories, and singing.

And so the art of song in Korea goes beyond being a well-entrenched cultural custom. By the early 1990s it had become virtually a national obsession that had been institutionalized and industrialized on a national scale. During the 1980s Korean entrepreneurs in Seoul began opening noraebang, literally "song rooms" that quickly spread throughout the country. Unlike the Japanese-invented karaoke bars, which are bars first and singing venues second, Korea's ubiquitous noraebang do not stock, sell or allow liquor on the premises. In fact, they are famous for being used as "sobering up places" by men who have had too much to drink at other places, do not want to hire someone to take them home, or go home drunk.

Korea's noraebang are designed specifically for people who want to express and enjoy themselves by singing in a semi-formal situation where they will not disturb anyone, don't have to be concerned about shaming themselves, and are provided with professional-type loud-speaker and video equipment that enhances their performance while adding to the satisfaction and pleasure they get from the experience.

Noraebang feature private rooms of different sizes that are rented to patrons by the hour. The more individuals in a party, the larger the room. Snacks and soft drinks are served. Some larger "singing salons" offer a variety of special services, including parking attendants and transportation. Some also allow professional drummers to visit their rooms and offer to entertain patrons with exhibitions of traditional drumming.

Patrons of the singing salons usually go in groups and generally take turns staging solo performances, but before the evening is over most join together to perform in groups. Most patrons sing in at least Korean and English, and some also sing in Japanese. In addition to laser disc players that provide recorded music, the noraebang also feature videos that display on-screen lyrics for the convenience of those who need help.

The largest collection of singing salons in Seoul is located south of the Han River (which bisects the city). Reservations are needed to guarantee entry into some of the more popular places. Korean hosts often take foreign visitors to their favorite noraebang rather than the more expensive kisaeng houses or hostess-stocked cabarets.

Some Korean companies provide in-house noraebang for their employees, not only as a convenience but also as an officially approved means of reducing workplace stress. Foreign businesspeople stationed or visiting Korea can gain important points by participating in noraebang song-fests with their Korean contacts.

For those who have never had the experience of karaoke-style singing in a bar or club, even when faking it in a group, it is a powerful male-bonding experience that is part of establishing and nurturing close the relationships that are so important in doing business in Korea. Foreign businesspeople who can sing well and delight in (humbly) showing off their jang ki are especially well-received by Koreans, and often find that being able to bond with their Korean contacts through norae is one of their most valuable assets.

Excerpted from the forthcoming book, "NTC's Dictionary of Korea's Business and Cultural Code Words" (NTC/Contemporary Publishing Company), by Boye Lafayette DeMente. DeMente is an author of more than forty books and currently works as a consultant on Korea, China, and Japan. For more information about his currently available work, check out the Internet site (http://www.dancris.com/~phxbooks/).