Pitching coins or marbles in the streets of Seoul circa 1900s / Robert Neff Collection

When Count Peter Vay, a Hungarian diplomat and writer, visited Seoul in late November 1902, he was somewhat amused by the almost endless quarrels and scuffles around him. Some involved merchants and coolies locked in heated disputes — perhaps over prices or the jostling of the crowd — while nearby, two young boys tussled next to a police sentry box. When the smaller boy began to cry, blood dripping from a cut on his forehead, the sentry remained unmoved. According to the count, the sentry's expression seemed "rather to approve than condemn."

Somewhat sanctimoniously, the count professed to be unaccustomed to witnessing such frequent fights and conflict. "In China," he declared, "I never saw one man fighting another — they have their thousands of years of civilization to thank for that."

Fighting was not the only activity taking place in the streets. The count asserted that "gambling seems to be in the blood" of Asians, and Koreans were no exception. "There is no country where card-sharpers drive so brisk a business as in Korea," he observed. Notably, he did not provide a comparison with Chinese card-sharpers.

However, not all Korean gamblers in the streets were adults. According to one early Western observer:

"Koreans learn the delights and pains of gambling almost from their mother's milk. You see little fellows five and six years old pitching cash [small Korean coin] with an eagerness and untiring zeal which shows it is not simply the fun they are after."

A large banner warns the public against gambling at a park in western Seoul, Oct. 31. Robert Neff Collection

In his 1895 book "Korean Games," Stewart Culin informed his readers that pitching coins was one of the "commonest amusements" in Korea, with several variations of the game. By 1926, William B. Lyon observed that "everywhere on the streets today you will notice the large numbers of men pitching coins." He emphasized that one of the most important aspects of the game was determining the order of play, as considerable advantage was gained by whoever pitched first. This was often decided by each player throwing a coin at a wall — the coin that bounced farthest from the wall went first.

According to Lyon, "The person who has won the right to pitch first then gathers up all the coins and pitches them all together at [a small hole a short distance away], keeping any which enter. As for the coins that fall outside, they are gathered up by the second player as pitched as before, continuing thus until all are won."

Culin identified this game as "Modu Mokgi" ("eat all"). He also provided a two-person variation called "Ppaeimnaegi" ("taking a measurement"). In this version, a straw or stick about 8 cm in length is used as a measuring device. The first player throws four coins at the hole, and the second player must pay as many coins as they go in the hole. The second player then points to one of the coins that did not go into the hole (if any), and the first player must hit it with another coin. If he succeeds, he is paid another two coins. If he fails to hit it, but his coin is within the straw's length of the target, he loses his turn; if the distance is greater than the straw's length, he must pay the second player two coins.

But were these games merely games of chance, meant only to enrich the pockets of the winners?

Lyon offered an intriguing hypothesis regarding the origins of the pitching coin game, suggesting that it may have originated as a custom in Buddhist temples:

"It used to be said that tossing coins into the cash box before the shrine denoted special earnestness and sincerity, and therefore, people practiced pitching coins at a small hole in order to become proficient. Possibly, this idea is still manifested in the holes in rocks found near monasteries. Nowadays [in the mid-1920s], one sees stones in such niches, and it has been suggested that these stones confer merit to obtain recognition after death."

A lot has changed over the past century. It is no longer common to see children pitching pennies in the alleys or the three-card monte con artists who once plagued the markets and bus stations — the last time I saw one was in the late 1980s. Yet, "friendly" card games can still be found in the quiet city parks. Usually, the players are elderly men, and the bets are rather modest — to many, the embarrassment of losing is more bothersome than the loss of their small allowance.

However, considering gambling — even for a pocketful of coins — is illegal, if they are caught by the police, they may lose more than just their pride and their allowance. Life is always a gamble.

Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.