Korean inns in the 20th century part 3: a wonderful adventure – Beragampengetahuan

A “Corean Hotel” in the early 1900s / Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

In the late 19th century, travelers to Korea were often faced with the daunting task of finding places to stay. Japanese hotels and inns could be found in the open ports but for many Westerners, these were not very comfortable due to the cultural and dietary differences. There were a handful of Western-style hotels – mainly in Jemulpo (modern Incheon) and later in Seoul – but these were fairly expensive, providing they had vacancies. At one point there was even a Korean hotel – but the reviews of it were far from encouraging. For most travelers, staying in a Korean inn was an adventure they wanted nothing to do with.

However, Frederick Starr, an American anthropologist, was adventurous enough to do the unthinkable on his third trip to Korea in 1916. According to him:

“Foreigners had always advised me against so doing; travelers’ books had all emphasized the discomforts, the dirt, the inspect pest, the impossible beef. So I had always stopped in foreigners’ homes or at Japanese inns.”

The ever-adventurous Frederick Starr. Public Domain – Wikipedia

The ever-adventurous Frederick Starr / Public Domain – WikipediaStarr was tired of the cold Japanese rooms heated with “hibachi and kotatsu” and desired to sleep on a heated floor. So, he and his companions took a room at a Korean hotel that had once served as the residence of a Korean minister of the Korean Empire.

“The building is of a single story, but the rooms are ramblingly strung out over an enormous space; the floors are of different levels, and on the way to our rooms we stepped up a step or two here and down a step or two there several times. The passageway through which we were led turned and twisted until we doubted, with good reason, whether we could find our way back alone.”

Starr was quite pleased with his suite – “a series of three rooms and a toilet, quite separate and all for my use.” He also had a nice veranda and was able to readily make his way to the main street merely “by passing through three courtyards and three gateways without going into any other part of the building.”

When Horace Allen stayed at a Korean hotel in 1884, he described his stay in the most dismal manner:

“[I] had to sleep on a board with my shoes for a pillow, and no clothes but a big shawl to keep off the cold. The nights are very cold. I pay $1.50 a day at my hotel but yet nothing to eat unless I furnish it and no heat.”

But Starr’s stay was much different:

“My room was almost square, about fifteen feet on a side. Along two of its sides were laid long cushions or narrow mattresses of silk or cotton, filled with cotton; these were bright colored, blue or crimson, were about two feet wide, and ran the full length of the two sides. At my own place a stuffed, silk covered backrest was placed against the wall. Several arm rests, block-shaped pillows, square in cross section and rectangular in form, blue or crimson, were laid for the use of myself and my guests. Square cushions, like the long mattress cushions in color and material, were supplied for guests to sit on, and were placed upon the mattresses.”

He was especially pleased with the warm floors but acknowledged that he was more fortunate than many travelers who often “half-baked” when the attendants were not careful to keep the floor at a comfortable temperature.

Starr was also pleased with the menu and claimed Korean cooking was more similar to American cooking than Japanese cooking:

“Three meals are regularly served, and all are ample. There is, indeed, a good deal of sameness in such a restaurant-hotels as this. Food is served on individual tables. These are about three feet in length by two in breadth and eight or ten inches in height. The individual set of tableware consists of seventeen dishes of brass bowls and cups of several sizes. They are arranged in three lines. There are three little bowls of differing sauce into which the food is dipped. There is sure to be one dish of cold meat sliced. There will be three or four other meats, perhaps. There will be eggs in some form, perhaps more than one. There may be chestnuts, raw or cooked. There are usually fruits, raw, and a little dish of preserved fruits, several kinds together. There is often a bowl of dark brown honey cooked with rice. There is always a good soup.”

He was very fond of the mandu (dumplings) but described kimchi as being held in a similar regard as Europeans had for sauerkraut or limburger cheese. “It is the relish that makes all else delightful.”

And, of course, “there is a great bowl of rice, larger than anyone can possibly eat.”

He seemed impressed that he had an individual servant whose only duty was to look after his comfort but seemed a little disappointed that the servants were always males.

However, in the evening, the hotel – which was primarily a restaurant – transformed into a place of entertainment:

“All these rooms, or little suites, are banqueting places. As night approaches signs of life appear. Little companies assemble; each has musicians and dancing girls. There are horns and drums, fiddles and violins, all after the Korean style. There are songs, northern and southern, recognizably differing. Dances are slow, but graceful and suggestive. Eating and drinking accompany the entertainment. Gradually the occasion warms. The music becomes noise, the noise a din, the whole thing pandemonium. The thing is lively at 10 o’clock, culminating at midnight, dying at 2 in the morning.”

Fortunately for Starr, his suite was at the far end of the hotel and, because he was a heavy sleeper, “a little thing” like dancing and singing until the early hours did not disturb him.

In his opinion, Korean hotels were “quite passable” and their warm floors were wonderful devices.

My appreciation to Diane Nars for her invaluable assistance.

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