Twenty-four single South Koreans in their 30s, bleary-eyed and yawning from lack of sleep, arrive at Jogyesa Temple in Seoul at the crack of dawn, their roller bags in tow. They’re embarking on a unique weekend retreat organized by the Jogye Order, South Korea’s largest Buddhist community, not for spiritual enlightenment, but for something far more earthly: finding a spouse. A brightly lit heart outside the temple signals the true purpose of their pilgrimage: love, marriage, and, most importantly, children. South Korea is grappling with a severe demographic crisis, boasting the world’s lowest fertility rate at 0.7 children per woman. The stakes are high, with the nation’s future pension system, welfare programs, and even its very existence hanging in the balance. These young participants, chosen from over 900 applicants, carry the weight of these societal pressures, amplified by the hopes and handwritten pleas of their parents.
The chosen temple, Baekyang, nestled within a picturesque natural park, is strategically selected for its autumnal beauty, a backdrop designed to foster romance. As they board the bus, alternating seats marked with blue for men and pink for women, a palpable nervousness fills the air. The retreat leader, Yoo Chul Ju, encourages interaction, urging them to see him as their ”muse.” The five-hour journey includes planned seat rotations, ensuring each participant converses with three different potential partners. Initial introductions reveal a diverse group of teachers, engineers, designers, and police officers, each harboring a shared desire for companionship. The selection criteria, according to Yoo Chul Ju, prioritize desperation, passion, career stability, and the length of their singlehood.
The underlying causes of South Korea’s demographic crisis are multifaceted. Long working hours, coupled with high living costs and traditional gender roles, create significant barriers to family formation. A growing number of women are rejecting these traditional expectations, leading to a contentious social phenomenon where women are increasingly opting out of relationships with men. The temple retreat participants, however, are determined to find love. They cite the lack of time due to demanding careers and the frustration of countless unsuccessful blind dates as their primary motivations for joining the program. The Buddhist setting provides a sense of credibility and hope, as expressed by one participant, 36-year-old engineer Seoungjae Lee.
Upon arrival at Baekyang Temple, the participants are greeted by a breathtaking scene of fiery autumn foliage, mirrored in the still lake water beneath a brilliant blue sky. The monks, drawing inspiration from popular dating shows, have incorporated games and activities to encourage physical contact and interaction, enhancing the traditional matchmaking format they’ve offered since 2008. Inside the temple, introductions continue, with participants highlighting their interests and aspirations, from pet lovers and mountain climbers to art enthusiasts and homeowners seeking someone to share their spacious abode. The monks, amused observers, promise prizes for successful pairings, encouraging a focus on the present moment.
Stripped of their everyday attire and clad in simple temple garments, the participants engage in a series of carefully orchestrated activities. A symbolic fruit-matching exercise sets the stage for paired seating arrangements, followed by a speed-dating tea ceremony. Yoo Chul Ju, ever-present, facilitates conversations and ensures a smooth flow. He explains the Buddhist motivation behind this unconventional matchmaking, emphasizing the tradition of addressing social issues and alleviating suffering. While the monks’ celibate lifestyle might seem at odds with relationship advice, Yoo Chul Ju argues that their prayers and insights into human suffering give them a unique understanding of the desire for connection and the parental longing for their children’s happiness.
A cooking class led by Jeong Kwang, a renowned Buddhist nun and chef, blends culinary instruction with relationship wisdom. She encourages participants to treat the ingredients with the same tenderness they would a loved one and offers practical advice like traveling, playing cards, and sharing meals together. Games and competitions follow, orchestrated by a hired facilitator, Sim Mokmin, whose eccentric challenges and playful banter create a lighthearted atmosphere. Despite the seemingly frivolous nature of the activities, the underlying goal remains clear: to forge connections and spark romantic interest. The day culminates in a paired hand-holding exercise and a final ”romantic” walk, followed by a text message exchange to indicate mutual attraction. The following morning reveals a record-breaking seven matches, much to the delight of Yoo Chul Ju and the monks. The successful couples are announced during a ceremony, their names resonating against the backdrop of birdsong and the rising sun. They receive a small monetary gift to fund their first date, with the promise of a larger sum upon the arrival of children – a tangible incentive reflecting the societal imperative at the heart of this unusual Buddhist endeavor.
