hankyoreh

By Kim So-yeon

“Figure out how to get a meal for under 3,000 won.”

On July 7, I began my month-long poverty experience with the minimum cost of living allowance of 1,110,919 Won ($946.29), provided to me by the People’s Solidarity for Participatory Democracy (PSPD). My first task was to find lunch that cost no more than 3,000 Won. This was the value listed in the current minimum livelihood report for the cost of a lunch by a working head of household.

My problems began on the very first day. I looked all around Seoul’s Jongno and Mapo Districts, my haunts as a journalist, but could not find any restaurants selling a meal for 3,000 Won. The average was 5,000 Won. I searched the Internet and managed to find one place that served meals for 3,000 Won, but I had to abandon it as an option because it would take over 30 minutes just getting there and back. The only lunches that could be purchased here for 3,000 Won were fast-food dishes like ramen, gimbap, and ddeokbokki.

This was how I ended up eating lunch, alone, for the first week. Tougher even than the scant meals was the sense of ostracism I felt from the people glancing at this journalist eating in solitude. I had no choice but to eat with my workplace colleagues once a week, where a meal cost between 5,000 and 7,000 Won. In order to meet the average cost of 3,000 Won per lunch, I packed a lunchbox one or two times a week. I also suffered the daylong embarrassment of having the smell of the kimchi I brought in wafting throughout the reporters’ room.

Dinner was an even bigger problem. The average cost of a dinner for a three-person family as set by the minimum cost of living schedule is 3,500 Won. By this standard, if a working head of household eats dinner out for 3,500 Won, the two other family members at home have to go without food. This is why I did not make any evening appointments throughout the month of July. Material deprivation made it so that choosing one meant going without the other.

To get to the Jangsu Village neighborhood, you have to walk for about 20 minutes up a steep hill from Hansung University Station on Line 4 of the Seoul Subway, in the direction of Samseon Park. One steamy day, when the temperature felt like more than the humid 30 degrees Celsius (86 degrees Fahrenheit) even at night, I mounted the hill on the way home, my stomach empty, and felt the sweat seeping from every pore in my body. Unable to bear it any longer, I went into a convenience store. After debating for about five minutes, I finally bought some banana-flavored milk, priced at 1,000 Won. This was money that I could have used to buy some fish cakes or tofu to make a “decent” side dish. Price tags floated around in my head, and I briefly felt tears welling in my eyes at the thought that I could not even feel comfortable drinking a bottle of milk.

A little over two weeks into my experience, I was contacted by a friend from my elementary school days who wanted to meet up. Frankly, it was the thought of the money I would have to spend that had my eyes misting. I made the excuse that I was busy with work. Eating dinner and drinking a cup of tea would require at least 10,000 Won, an amount that was supposed to cover three meals for three family members. Without money, even my human relationships were being cut off.

Education costs seemed utterly insurmountable. The minimum livelihood schedule puts education costs for a three-person household at 49,844 Won, which is supposed to cover study and reference materials. In the family where I was staying for a month as part of this minimum livelihood experience, “Hope,” a 12-year-old sixth grader with low grades, was going to private academies to learn English and math. Tuition was 150,000 Won for each, for a total of 300,000 Won per month. Hope pleaded with the mother to be allowed to quit the English academy for just one month. The burden on the household budget was just too great. It was difficult just keeping food on the table.

Her mother looked torn.

“It feels like it is all my fault my daugher cannot study,” she said. “Of course, the tuition is a burden, but it would really be better to cut back on food. If I do not send Hope to an academy, she has to stay at home all alone and may end up hanging out with the wrong crowd. I am worried.”

Her mother let out a long sigh. She has been raising Hope alone while doing insurance work.

After a long discussion, she finally decided to have Hope stop attending the English academy. Instead, she would send her to a penmanship (POP) academy that cost 25,000 Won a month, since she could not simply leave Hope alone. With the Nationwide Scholastic Achievement Assessment Test, ilje gosa, taking place in mid-July, she made up for her feelings of regret by teaching Korean, social studies, and English to Hope herself after coming home from work.

In any case, education expenses came out to more than 125,156 Won. According to National Statistical Office figures, some 87.4 percent of elementary school students received private education in 2009, and private academy expenses averaged out to 245,000 Won per person. It is a reality that cannot be ignored, but it is not reflected in the minimum livelihood schedule.

Transportation and communication costs were a quandary. A look at the minimum livelihood schedule showed that a cell phone was not listed as a necessity. The allowance was zero Won. For a sixth grader in this day in age that is a part of a single-parent household, a cell phone is a necessity. This is not for vanity’s sake. Fathers and mothers have to leave for work, and if something urgent happens with their child, they need to be able to get in contact quickly. So, the 142,000 Won in cell phone costs for our family of three was purely in excess.

Twenty-eight days into my experience, I finally went bust. I tried my hardest to cut down on food costs, which accounted for the bulk of the minimum livelihood expenses, but they exceeded 27,989 Won, and as the red ink grew to include 125,156 Won in education costs and 161,484 Won in transportation and communications, the 1,110,919 Won ran out. According to my calculations on July 31, after completing one month of this, I found that the three of us had spent a total of 1,274,470 Won, leaving us 163,551 Won in the red.

Managing to keep costs down to that extent alone was nothing short of a miracle. We did not have to buy any clothes or shoes, nor did I pay social insurance fees such as pension contributions. We were unable to grill any pork at home, let alone eat out, and a grand total of 3,500 Won went toward culture and entertainment - in the form of a film magazine. In particular, even though the allowance for fuel was zero Won since it was the summertime, and we paid scarcely anything in health insurance costs since nobody became seriously ill, it was impossible to “survive” for one month on the minimum livelihood allowance.

The National Basic Livelihood Security Act defines the minimum livelihood allowance as “the minimum amount spent so that a citizen can maintain a healthy and cultural life.” However, the minimum livelihood allowance captured in its different items was far too divorced from the reality. Each day was a painful struggle.

For all of my efforts, it was impossible to avoid going over the household budget with a family of three. Without enough money to cover daily expenses, saving for the future was an impossible dream. Should our child or mother suddenly come down with a major illness, in that instant our household would slide down into the extreme poverty class. Living without anything, you find yourself hounded throughout the day by the nagging feeling of “What am I going to do if something happens?” Life on the minimum livelihood allowance amid a poor social safety net is no different from clutching a time bomb to your chest that might go off at any moment.

Please direct questions or comments to [englishhani@hani.co.kr]