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Audio recordings of the Korea JoongAng Daily's in-depth, on-the-scene news articles and features informing readers around the world of the issues of the day in Korea. Under the slogan "Your window to Korea", the Korea JoongAng Daily is an English-language news organization focused on Korea that strives to publish factual, timely and unbiased articles.

  1. 7H AGO

    Ten years on, Kaesong Industrial Zone's legacy unclear

    John Everad The author is the former British Ambassador to North Korea. This month, on the 10th anniversary of the suspension of the Kaesong Industrial Zone (KIZ) by the Park Geun-hye administration, the Ministry of Unification issued a statement lamenting its closure, describing it as a test bed for Korean reunification. Ten years on, the KIZ still provokes heated arguments. Was it a successful example of inter-Korean cooperation that could have been expanded, and its closure therefore a tragic mistake? Or was it just a means for the Democratic People's Republic of Korea (DPRK) to squeeze yet more money from the Republic of Korea (ROK)? In many ways, the KIZ was a taste of the South for North Koreans. The many factories that I visited throughout North Korea were often dingy and dark, but by contrast, the factories in the KIZ were bright and airy. Workers in most North Korean factories toiled either in silence or to thumping patriotic songs, but in the KIZ the workers were allowed to choose what music to work to (which tended to be gentle North Korean folk songs). Best of all, ROK managers in the KIZ ensured that the canteens provided good, wholesome Korean food, so that workers enjoyed a nourishing lunch. Conditions were much better than in a North Korean factory and must have made a considerable impression on the workers in the KIZ. But how much of this was known outside the KIZ's work force? DPRK officials who administered the KIZ told me that every evening, workers simply went back to their apartments and their families in Kaesong. Even if the North Korean authorities had wanted to isolate them to prevent them from sharing their experiences, Kaesong simply did not have the buildings available to provide these workers with segregated accommodation. The officials added that people in Kaesong knew how good work was in the KIZ, as word had spread. If a vacancy arose in the KIZ, administrators were besieged by requests to work there. Moreover, that information spread far beyond Kaesong. Once after I returned to Pyongyang, a friend who had been never been to the KIZ was still able to give me an accurate description of conditions in factories there — including some of the canteen meals available. This was not the first time I was impressed by the accuracy of the North Korean person-to-person network, where information was passed widely but carefully among trusted friends and extended families. Was the KIZ a possible model for reunification? In the KIZ, managers from the South directed workers from the North, something the DPRK would never have accepted as a model for wider reunification. But the KIZ did at least demonstrate that Koreans from the North and South could work together. ROK managers in the KIZ told me their interactions with DPRK workers there were friendly and professional. However, the KIZ also showed the limitations of this kind of industrial cooperation. It was planned that eventually 300,000 North Koreans would work there, but for much of the KIZ's life there was only about one-tenth of this number, and never more than one-fifth, as it proved difficult to persuade companies from the South to move in. This suggests that if the model had been replicated, they would have struggled to attract the necessary investment. Also, Kim Jong-il did indeed attempt to replicate the KIZ experiment in industrial zones elsewhere — but these were aimed at attracting companies from safe, totalitarian China rather than from the dangerous, democratic ROK. The South may have seen the KIZ as a step toward reunification while the DPRK may have seen a model for stimulating its economy. Did the DPRK use the KIZ to generate foreign currency? It was surprisingly hard to establish how much of their pay KIZ workers were allowed to keep. One source told me that the roughly $80 a month that the workers received was all converted into DPRK won at a predatory official exchange. So even though KIZ workers were well paid by DPRK standards, the...

    6 min
  2. 7H AGO

    Bulwark of legality forged in shared passage through time

    Kim Seung-hyun The author is an editorial writer at the JoongAng Ilbo. On the eve of the first-instance verdict against former President Yoon Suk Yeol, the 1995 television drama "Sandglass" comes to mind. The special counsel's demand for the death penalty may have triggered the association. In the series, which aired three decades ago, its protagonist Tae-soo (played by Choi Min-soo) ultimately meets his end under a sentence of death. So popular was the show that it earned the nickname "the curfew clock," as streets emptied when it aired. Its success lay in a narrative steeped in the spirit of its time. Tae-soo, resisting the abuses of an authoritarian era, descends into the life of a political gangster and murderer. The prosecutor who seeks the maximum penalty is his closest friend Woo-seok (played by Park Sang-won), a device that offered a fragile hope of reconciliation between a tragic individual and a cruel age. As the sand in the hourglass runs out, one era gives way to another. The rule of law in our society, too, has evolved — at times pitiless yet impartial, base yet stern. The charge of insurrection against Yoon has shaken assumptions formed over that long evolution. The delusion of martial law — even in that drama of 30 years ago — was portrayed as a relic of a fading age. Today, citizens are unsettled by the abrupt upheaval. Time has passed; the spirit of the age and the institutions that sustain it have repeatedly changed. To watch a president once supported by roughly half the electorate face the possibility of a death sentence is disorienting and troubling, regardless of political camp. When what once seemed fiction intrudes upon reality, even the rule of law endures unexpected growing pains. Whatever the sentence, each citizen will have to weigh — more heavily than ever — whether it is just and how it should be received. The complexity of that psychology was reflected in opinion polls reported over the Lunar New Year holiday. In one survey commissioned by MBC and conducted by Korea Research International, respondents predicted a sentence of life imprisonment (43 percent), death (32 percent) or acquittal (18 percent). Another poll, commissioned by SBS and conducted by Ipsos, found predictions of life imprisonment (32 percent), death (27 percent), a fixed-term prison sentence (21 percent) and acquittal (14 percent). Such forecasts cannot be equated with the public's moral judgment, but they underscore the range of views about the gravity of the charges against a former president accused of threatening democratic and republican order. Further complicating public judgment is the fact that Korea has not carried out an execution since 1998 — a span of 28 years. Some may reason that, since it would not be enforced, imposing the maximum penalty carries little practical burden. Others may view the death penalty as unnecessary precisely because it lacks effect. There may even be those who treat it as a kind of symbolic sentence — akin to the "enlightenment decree" Yoon himself framed his martial law declaration as. Institutional signals are mixed. The National Human Rights Commission of Korea opposes capital punishment on grounds that include human dignity. The Constitutional Court of Korea, by contrast, has held the death penalty constitutional, describing it as an "inevitable infringement on the right to life for the public good." Layer upon layer of deliberation, conflict and compromise has settled into the system we now inhabit. The result is a "constitutional death penalty that is not enforced" — the peculiar shape that the rule of law has taken in contemporary Korea. Sentencing by the courts will proceed on that foundation, determined strictly by the nature of the offense and any mitigating factors. The rule of law endures only insofar as members of society fulfill their responsibilities and obligations. In the final episode of "Sandglass," when Tae-soo's lover Hye-rin (played by Ko Hyun-jung) asks Woo-seok, ...

    5 min
  3. 7H AGO

    DP takes up 'dream' mantle as PPP slides into infighting nightmare

    Chin Jung-kwon The author is a professor at Kwangwoon University. Politics, at its core, is the business of offering dreams. In the 1970s, banners reading "$10 billion in exports, $1,000 in per capita income" hung across city streets. The government promised that once those goals were met, Korea would finally enter the era of "my car." By today's standards, the targets seem almost quaint. But at the time, they were enough. The public endured hardship and political turbulence, sustained by the modest promise of upward mobility. Rapid growth — even under authoritarian rule — secured conservative hegemony. The income gaps that accompanied high growth could be justified through the logic of Pareto improvement. If inequality widened from "1 to 2" to "2 to 5," the argument went, was it not still better to earn 2 than to remain at 1? Growth softened the political cost of disparity. What remained was the question of assets — above all, housing. The conservative remedy for surging real estate prices was typically straightforward: Increase supply. The Roh Tae-woo government launched an ambitious project to build 2 million homes, significantly raising the national housing supply rate. The political effects were profound. A generation of once-radical youth was absorbed into the system. Former revolutionaries moved into newly built apartments in the Seoul area. Some, newly attuned to capitalist instinct, eventually settled in Gangnam District, southern Seoul — once regarded as the citadel of class adversaries. To own a home has long been the average Korean's life goal. There was once a standard path: Work diligently, save, rent on jeonse — Korea's unique lump-sum deposit lease system, under which tenants pay a large upfront deposit instead of monthly rent — win a housing lottery, take out a loan and buy. That pathway has largely vanished. In the Seoul metropolitan area — especially in the capital proper — there is little land left to build on. What remains is demand suppression. But policies aimed at restraining demand often run counter to market principles, producing the opposite effect: rising prices. The Democratic Party's (DP) defeat in the 2022 presidential election — an election many believed it could not lose — was widely attributed to the real estate policies of the Moon Jae-in administration. Today, absent the "cheat code" of parental wealth, purchasing a home through wage income alone is effectively impossible. Existing homeowners in the metropolitan area have already secured their positions. Those who missed the opportunity — or are only now entering adulthood — appear to have abandoned the dream altogether. Income has stagnated. Homeownership is out of reach. Is there still a dream left? There is. If a real estate windfall is unattainable, a stock market windfall remains. The president is offering the public a new aspiration. A pledge to push the Kospi to 5,000 has become something of a secular gospel. What is striking is that this shift is being driven by the DP — traditionally not the party associated with market exuberance. This suggests two things at once: that the conservative People Power Party (PPP) has lost its capacity to set the agenda, and that the DP has moved perceptibly rightward. The political center the conservatives vacated has been occupied. Recent efforts by the DP to recruit policy minds associated with market-oriented institutions can be read as attempts to broaden its appeal to the right. Industrial capitalism has long since given way to financial capitalism. Conservatism in Korea has struggled to adapt. Nostalgic invocations of Syngman Rhee and Park Chung Hee — even occasional calls to rehabilitate the image of Chun Doo Hwan — suggest a lingering attachment to the era of industrialization. Meanwhile, there are nearly 100 million active domestic stock trading accounts in Korea — roughly two per citizen. In effect, almost the entire population now holds equities. Workers of the past have become, at le...

    5 min
  4. 11H AGO

    Samsung and LG bet on security features to wrest robot vacuum market from Chinese competitors

    This article is by Kim Kyung-mi and read by an artificial voice. Samsung Electronics and LG Electronics are rolling out new AI-powered robot vacuum cleaners in a bid to claim market share in Korea, where Chinese brands control more than 60 percent of sales. Korean manufacturers are betting on security features to compete against lower-priced Chinese rivals that have built market share on price competitiveness. Samsung Electronics began presales for its 2026 Bespoke AI Steam Ultra and Bespoke AI Steam Plus robot vacuum models through Samsung stores nationwide, its website and Naver online retailers. The company will officially release the products on March 3. The new models offer suction power of up to 10 watts, roughly double that of previous versions, and feature an AI liquid detection function that avoids spilled water or pet urine while vacuuming. Moisture is known to reduce suction performance if the device absorbs liquids during cleaning. Samsung Electronics equipped the device with EasyPass wheels that allow it to cross door thresholds up to 45 millimeters (1.8 inches) high, enabling it to move freely over living room mats and raised sills. The company emphasized enhanced data security as a key feature of the new model. Samsung Electronics applied its Knox Matrix system to detect hacking and other security threats and integrated its Knox Vault to store passwords and authentication codes in a separate hardware security chip. The device encrypts and stores image and video data captured during obstacle detection within the unit to prevent personal data leaks from potential server attacks. Prices range from 1.76 million won ($1,220) to 2.04 million won depending on whether the model includes automatic water refilling and drainage features. A standard version scheduled for release in April will sell for between 1.41 million won and 1.59 million won. "We strengthened core features such as suction power and hygiene solutions and fundamentally addressed customer concerns with robust security," said Lim Seong-taek, executive vice president of Samsung Electronics. "We will seek to expand our leadership in the robot vacuum market by providing reliable customer support." LG Electronics also plans to launch a new robot vacuum later this year. The company unveiled the product at IFA 2025 in Berlin, Germany, in September last year. The model is the first in the industry to use steam cleaning in both the main unit and the charging dock, improving cleaning performance and hygiene. Users can install the dock in narrow spaces, such as under kitchen cabinets. LG Electronics is also highlighting security features. The company applied its proprietary LG Shield security solution to strengthen personal data protection following incidents in which footage believed to have been recorded in Korean homes circulated in China and after reports in 2024 that some Chinese Ecovacs robot vacuums were hacked. "Because robot vacuums move throughout the home and use cameras to detect obstacles, consumers naturally have security concerns," a source at an appliance maker said. "More customers will likely choose trusted Korean brands." Chinese brands that dominate the Korean market are also introducing advanced models. Roborock, which has ranked first in Korean robot vacuum sales for several years, unveiled the Saros Rover at CES 2026 in Las Vegas in January. The product features two-wheel legs that allow it to climb not only thresholds but also stairs. Dreame also introduced the Cyber X, which uses oval-shaped wheels to navigate stairs. Chinese companies are also emphasizing their security policies to try to reassure Korean consumers. Through its Trust Center page, Roborock states that it encrypts all data transmitted to servers and does not provide user data to third parties without consent under Korean law. This article was originally written in Korean and translated by a bilingual reporter with the help of generative AI tools. It was then edited by a ...

    4 min
  5. 12H AGO

    When stars fall, how can Korean productions survive?

    This article is by Kim Ji-ye and read by an artificial voice. The second season of tvN's hit 2016 series "Signal" and Disney+'s Korean original series "Knock-Off" have one thing in common: both projects were indefinitely postponed due to controversies surrounding featured stars. While the exact scale of financial damage has not been publicly disclosed in either case, industry sources estimate that the potential penalty fees and damage compensation in such cases can cost up to hundreds of billions of won, offering a stark glimpse into the financial exposure producers face when a star-driven project is derailed by scandal. In the case of "The Second Signal," uncertainty loomed over its release after its lead actor, Cho Jin-woong, was found to have committed multiple offenses as a minor and subsequently retired from the industry. The fully preproduced drama, reportedly made with a budget in the tens of billions of won, was excluded from tvN's first 2026 lineup announcement despite earlier assurances that the broadcaster was seeking the "best possible solution." Legal sources say Cho could face penalties ranging from 2 billion won to 5 billion won ($1.38 million to $3.46 million) for his appearance fee alone, giving a rough idea of the total damage the production house may have to suffer. A similar fate was also cast on Disney+'s "Knock-Off." T he Walt Disney Company Korea announced early last year that it would "pause plans" for the series after its main lead, Kim Soo-hyun, was embroiled in allegations that he had dated the late Kim Sae-ron when she was underage. Most recently, comedian Park Na-rae stepped down from all her programs after being accused of workplace abuse against her former managers. The controversy cast uncertainty over the release of Disney+'s fortune-telling survival show "Battle of Fates." The Walt Disney Company ultimately went ahead with the Feb. 11 premiere, stating that the show centers on the contestants and that Park, as a member of the observing panel, would not be edited out. Public sentiment in Korea, however, has been far less receptive to the decision. With more projects adopting fully preproduced models, production teams increasingly find themselves exposed to sudden and severe fallout from personal controversies involving cast members. Even if compensation is sought, it is highly unlikely that the production will be able to fully recover its losses. The legal process of detailing each element of the potential damage is neither simple nor swift. In many cases, therefore, delaying the release ultimately becomes the more practical option rather than canceling the project altogether. "It's not easy [to simply forgo the release altogether and move straight to seeking damages]. Filing a claim for damages is not that simple," said attorney Lee Yong-hae at YH&CO, a law firm that focuses on legal matters within the entertainment industry. "People often assume that once you file a claim for damages, compensation will automatically follow. But in reality, every element of the loss must be proven. You have to demonstrate, step by step, what specific damages occurred and how they were caused. It's far from simple." So, how protected are production companies in reality — and are laws, regulations and contracts adapting to these new challenges? To explore the legal realities behind these disruptions, the Korea JoongAng Daily sat down with Lee, who worked for 20 years as a television producer and served as a legal assistant at Netflix Korea. More risks emerging Cast-related risk is not a new subject in the industry. But it does appear to have grown — or at least become more visible — compared to the past. "When I was actively producing dramas 10 or 20 years ago, the production cost per episode was around 100 to 300 million won," Lee said. "Now it's more like 2 to 3 billion won per episode. And some projects have total budgets of 50 or 60 billion won." One of the key drivers behind risks being more visible i...

    10 min
  6. 13H AGO

    Bithumb's $44 billion blunder lands entire digital asset ecosystem in the hot seat

    This article is by Park Eun-jee and read by an artificial voice. The erroneous transfer of Bitcoins worth 64 trillion won ($44 billion) at Bithumb has prompted financial authorities to scrutinize not only the internal control system of the country's second-largest cryptocurrency operator but the overall reliability of digital asset service providers. The Bank of Korea (BOK) pointed to a lack of oversight as the fundamental cause, with the system allowing far more tokens to be issued than the exchange actually holds — roughly 13 times — following a mistake by an employee. "This incident was first caused by human error, but the core issue stems from the absence of internal control mechanisms to prevent such operational risks," the central bank said in a statement released at the request of Rep. Cha Gyu-geun of the minor opposition Rebuilding Korea Party. The employee mistakenly entered 2,000 Bitcoins instead of the intended 2,000 won for each of the 249 winners of a promotional event on Feb. 6. "To prevent a recurrence of such an incident, it is necessary to establish a double-check control framework and systems capable of detecting and controlling human errors before they materialize," it said. It is extremely rare for the central bank to comment on a specific financial case under investigation, although the entity is required to respond to an inquiry on pending issues posed by a member of the Strategy and Finance Committee at the National Assembly. The central bank went on to call for strengthened internal control requirements stipulated in the Digital Asset Basic Act as the government is pushing to pass the regulatory framework for digital assets within the first quarter. "As similar incidents could occur upon the introduction of a won-denominated stablecoin, it is necessary to strengthen internal control requirements when enacting the Digital Asset Basic Act in order to ensure security in won-based stablecoin issuance and distribution," it said. In addressing the request for an assessment of the incident, the BOK cited a $300 trillion stablecoin blunder by Paxos, the New York-based blockchain partner of PayPal, last year, as an example of lax oversight inherent in the cryptocurrency ecosystem. Bithumb held around 42,000 Bitcoins as of the third quarter of last year, 175 of which belonged to the company and the remainder being customer deposits, according to a quarterly report filed on the electronic disclosure. Financial regulators have stepped up their response to the case, shifting from an on-site inspection to a full formal investigation. The Financial Supervisory Service significantly expanded the scope of its probe by deploying additional personnel in light of the severity of the incident. On the day of the incident, 1,788 mistakenly-distributed Bitcoins hit the market, causing the price of Bitcoin on Bithumb to temporarily plunge to around 81 million won, while the asset traded at around 97 million won on rival exchange Upbit. The sudden drop in valuation led to at least 64 cases of forced liquidations of collateralized Bitcoins on the exchange worth 1 billion won, but industry insiders project that total damages could be larger.

    3 min
  7. 16H AGO

    Special counsels call down fire and brimstone in insurrection cases, but courts refuse to make it rain

    This article is by Michael Lee and read by an artificial voice. [EXPLAINER] When the National Assembly appointed a series of special counsels to investigate former President Yoon Suk Yeol and his associates over their suspected involvement in his short-lived declaration of martial law on Dec. 3, 2024, ruling Democratic Party (DP) lawmakers described the move as the first step toward an official reckoning with the Yoon administration. The four special counsels appointed since June follow a long line of independent prosecutors empowered by the legislature to handle cases deemed too politically sensitive for the regular prosecution service. Granted authority to assemble their own teams, conduct raids and file indictments, such probes have been used in past high-profile scandals to bolster public confidence. The charges filed by the special counsels — insurrection, abuse of authority, obstruction of official duties, stock manipulation, illegal political funding and bribery — have been portrayed by the DP as part of a broader pattern of malfeasance that culminated in an attempt to suspend Korean democracy. But with the Seoul Central District Court set to deliver its first ruling in Yoon's insurrection trial on Thursday, the special counsels face mounting criticism that they overestimated the strength of their cases against key suspects. In trials involving Yoon and key figures in his inner circle — including former Prime Minister Han Duck-soo, former Interior Minister Lee Sang-min, former first lady Kim Keon Hee and former Defense Intelligence Command chief Noh Sang-won — special counsels have often sought prison terms exceeding ten years, only for courts to hand down shorter sentences or reject core charges outright. The gap between the sentences requested by special counsels and the punishments actually handed down by judges has raised the question of whether the special counsels have prioritized the political optics of their mission over establishing the guilt of the accused. Why is the death penalty even on the table for Yoon? Nowhere has the tension between prosecutorial ambition and judicial reality been more visible than in special counsel Cho Eun-suk's decision to seek the death penalty for Yoon in his insurrection trial, where the first verdict is due Thursday. Cho's office argued that Yoon's martial law declaration constituted a serious attempt to undermine constitutional governance, even though it was rescinded within hours and did not result in bloodshed. He contended that Yoon should be subject to a particularly harsh punishment as a former prosecutor general who understood the constitutional limits on emergency powers but nevertheless ignored the legal requirements for declaring martial law. To underscore the gravity of the case, Cho argued that Yoon's punishment should at least match the death sentences handed down to former presidents Chun Doo Hwan and Roh Tae-woo for their 1980 coup. Legal analysts, however, note that Korea has not carried out an execution since 1997 and that courts have historically reserved capital punishment for crimes involving premeditated murder or mass casualties. As such, Cho's request for the death penalty is widely seen as more symbolic — reflecting how the special counsel team interprets the political weight of the case — than a likely sentencing outcome. An earlier, separate case against Yoon, decided last month, illustrates how sharply sentencing can diverge from the prosecutor's request. In that trial, Cho sought a combined 10-year prison term on charges that Yoon obstructed the duties of public officials and abused his authority in declaring martial law and handling its aftermath. Cho's team made their sentencing request based on their calculation that Yoon should face five years in prison for blocking the Corruption Investigation Office for High-ranking Officials from taking him into custody and another five years for alleged document irregularities and interference with inves...

    11 min
  8. 21H AGO

    BTS concerts are a homecoming for ARMY. But for some wedding couples, they're a headache.

    This article is by Woo Ji-won and read by an artificial voice. Park Sae-mi (pseudonym) booked her wedding venue last July with the love of her life. Although the couple live near Seoul, they decided to hold their wedding in Busan this June, where groom's family is based. The couple chose Saturday, June 13 of this year, envisioning warm early-summer weather, and selected a venue near Busan Asiad Main Stadium. At the time, everything seemed to fall neatly into place. Then came the unexpected announcement from BTS. Tens of thousands of fans are expected to descend on the area, and concerns over transportation shortages and traffic congestion have already been raised. Many hotels are also largely fully booked, with the remaining ones seeing sharply higher prices. "For my family, relatives and friends to attend the wedding, at least one overnight stay would be necessary," Park told Korea JoongAng Daily. Busan is a 2.5-hour KTX ride from Seoul where most Park's guests live, and a 4.5-hour drive by car which can sometimes be much longer depending on the traffic. "But even hotels located far from the concert venue were nearly impossible to book, and reservations for KTX trains and buses were expected to be just as difficult." "If we had gone ahead with the original date, how could we have had the nerve to invite our relatives and friends?" she said. "Telling them to drive from Seoul to Busan and back in one day was simply not an option." The venue did not charge an additional fee for the change. Typically, canceling or changing 150 days before a wedding date is eligible for a full refund of the contract fee, but after that, deductions apply: 10 percent before 60 days, 20 to 30 percent before a month and 50 to 70 percent after that. While she didn't have any financial fallout, the decision came with other complications for Park. She had to reschedule every related appointment, from hanbok fittings to visits to the wedding dress shop. More difficult than the logistics, she said, was the emotional strain. "Until the date was changed, the stress was overwhelming," Park said. "And throughout the process, it was up to me to contact everyone and sort everything out." Her experience is not unique. In the post, she explained that most of her and her fiance's friends and colleagues are based in the greater Seoul area, where the couple lives. The two had planned to arrange a chartered bus for guests, but she is worried about the long journey, with much more crowding and longer travel time now expected with the concertgoing congestion. Also, many of the colleagues and families had previously hoped to turn the wedding into a short trip, but accommodations either sold out or were extremely expensive. Complicating matters further, she wrote that the wedding venue informed her that canceling or changing the date would result in the loss of 50 percent of the contract fee. "The financial burden is driving me crazy," she wrote. "Even if the date can be changed, we would also have to reschedule our honeymoon flights. It's just one problem after another." The post drew 29 comments as of Feb.9. While many users sympathized, others encouraged her to proceed with the original date. A commenter in the post, using the nickname "I want to get married smoothly," also said they were facing the same problem, but ultimately canceled their venue altogether because it was located adjacent to the Busan Asiad Main Stadium. "At this point, rather than changing the date, couples are choosing to cancel and move to different venues," a source at the venue said, adding that one team had paid a cancellation penalty, which amounted to several million won (several thousand dollars). The venue is still waiting to hear back from other couples who previously inquired about moving their wedding dates. "They need time to discuss it with their families, and pricing is also a factor," the source said. The wedding hall manager said that it plans to strengthen traffic and on-si...

    4 min

About

Audio recordings of the Korea JoongAng Daily's in-depth, on-the-scene news articles and features informing readers around the world of the issues of the day in Korea. Under the slogan "Your window to Korea", the Korea JoongAng Daily is an English-language news organization focused on Korea that strives to publish factual, timely and unbiased articles.