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I am invited to the Academy’s ‘graduation’ ceremony, where the students — all teenage girls, from all ethnic groups — express their love for all things K-Poppy. They adore Korean dance, Korean soaps, wearing the hanbok or Korean national dress. ‘I can’t believe this is over,’ I later overhear one girl wail to another in the lavatory. ‘I don’t know what to do with my life now.’ After the graduation ceremony there is a K-buffet, where we are fed K-rice, K-beef and K-crackers. The South Korean government, clearly, is not sparing any expense in promoting its culture via contemporary music. Both the top students of the last two terms were awarded free air tickets to Seoul.
Then the party gets under way and the dancing starts. Everyone seems to know the lyrics to all the songs. What strikes me is how wholesome the affair is — parents should be relieved if their children profess an interest in joining the K-Pop Academy. Of course, there’s widespread hysteria and indiscriminate cowboy gyrations when ‘Gangnam Style’ finally plays. I have never understood why this song went viral, but as everyone starts screaming, I find I don’t care.
I’ve been K-Popped, and I like it.
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