<![CDATA[The South Korean dream: K-pop star, tech baron? Nope, it's the civil service]>
It's early morning at Seoul's Noryangjin subway station, and hordes of young people carrying backpacks and wearing sweatpants hurry up the exit stairs.
But there are few schools and no universities in this district, which is known for its fish market and wedding banquet halls.
Instead of college campuses, the streets are lined with preparatory academies that train applicants for exams they must pass to secure careers in South Korea's much-coveted civil service.
One of the young hopefuls is Song Ji-hye, who has a degree in police administration. She is 28 but has never had a full-time job. She has been taking classes at Willbes Academy since 2017, although she took time off after failing her civil service exam the first time around.
Even children in junior school often say they dream of becoming a government employee. Photo: AFP alt=Even children in junior school often say they dream of becoming a government employee. Photo: AFP
Willbes teaches Korean history, English, criminal law, police studies and other basic subjects such as maths. The centre prepares applicants for the written test, physical challenge and interview they must pass to win a place in the police force.
Song, a native of Chungcheong, a province about three hours south of Seoul, wakes up at 5.50am every day in her goshiwon " a tiny type of rented accommodation aimed at students studying for an important exam.
"It takes about 10 minutes for me to wash, and I just dab some sunscreen on instead of applying make-up," she says. "I arrive at the academy around 6.05am, five minutes after the doors open, and eat a simple breakfast of gimbap " Korean rice and vegetable rolls " with some coffee."
She studies until classes start at 9am. Her day then consists of two four-hour lessons followed by a night study session that lasts seven hours until after midnight. She tries to limit her lunch and dinner breaks to 30 minutes.
A student studies in a goshiwon " a tiny type of rented accommodation aimed at students cramming for an important exam. Photo: Reuters alt=A student studies in a goshiwon " a tiny type of rented accommodation aimed at students cramming for an important exam. Photo: Reuters
South Korea's 118,000-strong police force recruits twice a year. Last year 170,614 people between the ages of 18 and 40 applied for entry, and 7,294 became officers " about a 4 per cent success rate.
Aside from the police, administrative agencies of the civil service such as city halls and community centres have also become coveted workplaces, and applicants require extensive testing to enter. In 2018 fewer than 9,000 fresh workers joined the service, which is run by a staff of 1.1 million.
Song's desire to enter reflects a long-standing cultural tendency for Koreans to seek careers seen as safe and stable, with steady pay cheques, immunity from lay-offs and the promise of a pension. Even children in junior school often say they dream of becoming a government employee.
"My parents tell me to treat this exam as my last opportunity to succeed," Song says.
But all the study does not come cheap. After she failed her exam in 2017, Song was forced to take a part-time job for two years while scraping together the cash to continue learning at the academy.
South Korea's 118,000-strong police force recruits twice a year. Photo: Reuters alt=South Korea's 118,000-strong police force recruits twice a year. Photo: Reuters
The average rent for a small one-room flat near Willbes Academy is about 500,000 Korean won (US$420) a month, and classes at the centre cost more than 200,000 won monthly.
The building has three floors, but finding a seat in one of its long lecture halls, which have a capacity of about 500, is far from easy.
"When others are having fun on a Saturday night, many of our students stand in line outside from as early as 3am to be one of the first to register for a class," says Ku Ik-hyun, the head of Willbes Academy's police department. "We've had queues with as many as 150 students."
These eager beavers vie for the front row where students can make eye contact with the lecturer and read what is written on the chalkboards. Seats farther back rely on monitors attached to pillars.
And classes at Willbes are crowded for good reason: about 80 to 90 per cent of successful applicants to the police force in recent years studied at the centre, according to Ku.
"We've even had a 19-year-old high-school student persuade her parents to register her with the academy," Ku says. "She said she didn't want to see older applicants studying more and passing the exam before her."
Applicants study long and hard to pass the civil service entrance exams. Photo: EPA alt=Applicants study long and hard to pass the civil service entrance exams. Photo: EPA
As for Song, she is taking things more seriously this time around.
"I have a very talkative personality, so I try really hard not to make friends at the academy now," she says.
Keeping to herself is just one of many tactics to help her concentrate. She does not want to study at the school for longer than necessary.
"People who have already passed the exam tell me to be selfish during this time, as I will probably never meet any of my current classmates once I leave the academy."
The oldest student ever enrolled at Willbes was 40.
Jung Chul-young, a professor who researches workforce development at Seoul National University, says the Asian financial crisis of 1997 changed the mindset of many Koreans.
"Students, rather than looking for their passion or at the prospects of a workplace, looked at the security of a job," Jung says.
The country was forced to take a bailout of US$58.4 billion from the International Monetary Fund that year as lay-offs and bankruptcies became the norm across the economy. Major corporations and civil service jobs offering security were subsequently highly sought.
A man in traditional Korean dress writes answers with a brush during a re-enactment of a civil service exam from the Chosun dynasty at Changgyeong Palace in Seoul. Photo: AP alt=A man in traditional Korean dress writes answers with a brush during a re-enactment of a civil service exam from the Chosun dynasty at Changgyeong Palace in Seoul. Photo: AP
But the education system is also to blame for this narrow view of working life, according to Jung.
"Our system is solely centred on the college entry exams," he says. Known as the suneung, this exam is taken in high school and is seen as a life-changing moment by most Koreans.
"Consequently, our students have little to no opportunity to experience life outside their school and studies, or become exposed to society to develop social perception," Jung says.
Many youngsters only see their home, school, after-school academies and the library, Jung says.
They are "quite dependent on their parents" in contrast to students in the United States, who gain a greater depth of life experience, he believes.
"Students in the US learn to be independent from their parents from an early age by paying their own college tuition and living separately after high school."
In South Korea, it is common for children to live at home until their parents retire.
According to a study this year by Saramin, an employment information centre, Korean parents share their children's view that the civil service is the best career choice.
Jung says: "It is not enough to only educate students about their careers " it is also essential to educate parents."
Song is taking her police force entrance exam in less than 100 days. All she wants is to be able to give her parents some money and buy them some gifts, like others her age with stable incomes.
"I feel a burden, but I am also sorry and grateful at the same time," she says.
She then puts away her phone in a drawer and carries on reviewing her notes, until she can no longer keep her eyes open.
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This article originally appeared on the South China Morning Post (SCMP).
Copyright (c) 2019. South China Morning Post Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved.
