Courtesy of RawKim

One of the things people outside the country get wrong about Korea is that they expect everyone here to be gripped by a gender war: 4B feminist movements, misogynistic men, misandry online, asexual K-pop stars and a nation largely devoid of love despite the glossy veneer presented in dramas. And then they actually come here, and they realize it's quite the opposite. All those voices online with their huge engagement talking about gender are generally the minority. Instead, Korean people are dating, coupling, wearing matching clothes, sat huddled around coffee tables and filling shops and department stores with their hands holding. Granted, they are probably more likely to have a small white dog in their stroller than a child these days. But never is this couple culture more obvious than at Christmas.

Growing up in Britain, Christmas was always a time for family. It was a time of boring sacrifice almost. You had to not see your friends or girlfriend for a few days and instead devote yourself to time spent with relatives. There was food, toys, television and, as you got older, alcohol to provide some entertainment. But the expectation was that whatever else you might be doing during the year, irrespective of any fights you might have had, Christmas was for family.

Korea is very different. There's a reason why the neologism "sol-k" (solo Christmas) is understood by many: Christmas is a time for dating rather than family. It's a time when you go to restaurants, book a vacation in a hotel and take photos with the many variations of mulled wine sold by franchise coffee shops. You accompany these with cakes laced with strawberries from the chain bakeries. It's the same … but different.

Work or holiday?

When I first arrived in Korea in 2005, I discovered that Boxing Day was not a thing. I was expected to work. Boxing Day was normally superior to Christmas in my mind — it's a time for relaxation, television and working your way through all the food and snacks you accumulated the day before. To work on Boxing Day seemed to remove the joy of Christmas in a way that Sunday generally sucks because, you know, Monday comes next. However, my first year here was made easier by the fact that Christmas was a Sunday. No such luck the following year when I was expected to work on Christmas Day! I put on my tie and went to teach the businessmen downtown. I was almost embarrassed to tell people back home that I was working on Christmas. It was like I had come to a completely uncivilized part of the world. I hadn't, of course, I just didn't understand that yet.

Asking Koreans to celebrate Christmas like we do would be asking people in a rural English village to celebrate Buddha's Birthday the same way Koreans do. Thankfully, Korea recently made both Christmas and Buddha's Birthday substitute holidays so should either of them fall on a Sunday, the Monday will now be given to citizens as a day off. Hooray for religion!

But comparing Buddha's Birthday to Christmas wouldn't be quite right. Here the holidays with all the food, family, boring television and too much alcohol are "Chuseok" and "Seollal," multi-day events that enrage teenagers and bring frustration to women tasked with preparing far too much food. These are the holidays that give meaning and narrative to the year, that signal rebirth, renewal and continuity with the past. Christmas is more like Halloween. A time to dress up and be ‘western' for a while.

We should be thankful that there is some element of Christmas in Korea, I guess. My friend from North Korea said that she had never heard of Christmas growing up in Pyongyang nor encountered it in her church in China. It was only when she arrived in Britain that she became aware of it. Similarly, my Chinese friends are not really aware of the holiday either and while major cities like Shanghai will now feature some decorations and seasonal activities, if you go to Gangsu Province you'll be hard pressed to find a reindeer or a Christmas tree anywhere.

Modern Christmas

With its love of point cards, memberships and the gamification of society, it's a surprise to me that advent calendars still aren't a thing in Korea. We have them sent over every year from England for the kids. Why Lotte or one of the other big companies hasn't jumped on this market yet, I'm unsure. There's probably a fortune to be made in them, though perhaps the idea of having a small festive chocolate for breakfast is a step too far for Koreans. My family has slowly taken to the idea of a champagne breakfast on Christmas, though.

And with this comes the idea of giving gifts. Koreans generally give money. That is the polite and cultural thing to do. Whether it's at the new year or a retirement party, a wedding or anything else. The most affectionate and courteous thing to do is to hand over an envelope filled with (pressed) cash. Trying to explain the culture of buying presents for people has been a challenge. It's not necessarily about going to department stores and buying expensive goods and designer-label things. It's about finding something quirky, cute or even mischievous. It's the thought that counts. After nearly a decade, I realized my brother-in-law had finally understood this when he gave me a whole box of Eclipse mints wrapped up in paper with a bow on top and a smile on his face, pleased that he had given me something so cheap but also so understanding of the many hours I spend in my car driving across the country.

Anthropology tells us to find the strange in the familiar and the familiar in the strange. Korea does have Christmas now, and there is much that is familiar about it. Christmas songs, reds, greens, trees and Santas can be seen in many places. However, it's not like Christmas back home (in the same way that Christmas back home isn't like it was 30 years ago). Interestingly, the relative absence of Christmas here has shown me how big and how old the world and all its peoples are. And that's a lovely thing.

David A. Tizzard has a doctorate in Korean Studies and lectures at Seoul Women's University and Hanyang University. He is a social-cultural commentator and musician who has lived in Korea for nearly two decades. He is also the host of the "Korea Deconstructed" podcast, which can be found online. He can be reached at datizzard@swu.ac.kr.