A monk in orange Buddhist robes stood before rows of young men and women and told them they were there on a special mission: to save the country. And that work, he said, would begin with finding a life partner and, in time, having children. The participants, nervous, burst into laughter, some stealing shy glances at a possible match.
It was not a scene from a new reality show, but a real dating retreat held at the eighth-century Donghwasa Buddhist temple, set amid the greenery of Palgongsan Mountain in South Korea. Over 30 hours, a string of activities, awkward moments and icebreakers gave the participants a chance to find love, the BBC reported in a detailed account.
The organizer, Yoo Cheol-ju, said that whenever the country had faced a crisis, Buddhists had been among the first to step forward. He recalled that during the Japanese invasions of the 1500s, Donghwasa had served as a base for a resistance force of Buddhist monks. This time, though, the crisis was not an external enemy. “A low birth rate is now a national crisis,” he said. “So we had to do something.”
Like other developed countries, South Korea has seen its birth rate fall rapidly as its economy grew. In 2023, the average number of children per woman dropped to just 0.72, against the 2.1 needed to keep a population stable. Many blame high housing costs and a lack of adequate financial support for raising children; others say many women now prioritize their careers or simply choose not to have children. Research also shows that young South Koreans socialize and date less than before, so that many who want to marry cannot find a suitable partner.
To address this, the government has introduced long maternity and paternity leave, cash incentives for newborns and subsidized housing for newlyweds. Local governments and social organizations, with state support, also arrange matchmaking events such as this one.
After a tough selection process, 28-year-old Kim Ah-kyung, whose Buddhist name is Sunhyeji, was the first to arrive at the temple. Finding a suitable partner had become almost impossible after she left Seoul for a job in the southeast, she said – there was simply no chance to meet men. “I just travel between the office and home. I have no hobbies. I wanted to start something new, but everything was the kind of thing you do alone,” she said.
Kwon Seung-oh, 30, whose Buddhist name is Enio, said he had never felt comfortable meeting strangers online. His friends had sent him on about 10 blind dates, but none had led anywhere, and 97 percent of the workers at the dairy factory where he works are men – so he, too, ended up joining the retreat.
As the women arrived, the prospective male partners came forward to help carry their luggage. During the first introductions, Enio handed out French pastries he had made himself, delighting the group. Then came the first dates: Sunhyeji was paired with Minho, a calm-natured 32-year-old civil servant, and the two talked privately as they walked a forest path around the temple. To choose lunch partners, each man was given a plastic rose; Minho gave his to Ruby, a 28-year-old designer. Over the meal everyone talked about their hobbies, jobs and favorite shows, and by the time they washed the dishes together, much of the initial distance had melted away.
The most awkward part of the day came with a talent show. Minho performed the dance to the viral 2PM song “My House”; Sunhyeji danced to the new pop song “Catch Catch”; Enio sang a ballad; and Ruby impressed Minho by introducing herself in Spanish. Another woman played a song from the popular KPop Demon Hunters on the flute.
Although the official bedtime was 10 p.m., the organizer, Yoo, said that was merely a suggestion and that the night could still bring surprises. The next morning, everyone sent their final choices by text message. In the end, eight couples formed among the 24 participants – two of them between event staff and participants. Enio did not find a partner, but was not ready to give up: “If I get the chance, I’ll definitely come again,” he said. Sunhyeji said she had stayed up talking with other women until 3 a.m. “I made a lot of new friends,” she said, laughing. “We’ve already planned to have brunch together.” For her, the whole experience was like a joyful teenage sleepover. Not everyone went home with a life partner, but almost everyone left with something they had not had before – new friends and new confidence.
বাংলায় মূল প্রতিবেদন পড়ুন · Read the original Bengali report