Strange Things in Shindang — A Curious Tale of Shindang-dong

I joined Travel Label's ‘Shindang-dong Walking Tour,’ which introduces the many charms of Korea. This is the strange story I uncovered in Shindang-dong, a neighborhood where life and death intersect.

Words Parc Jinmyoung
Photos Kim Yoonkyung
In collaboration with Travel Label
Tour reservations pbp.co.kr/travel

Seosan Obstetrics & Gynecology Clinic

“Where we've gathered now stands in front of an obstetrics clinic building constructed in 1965. It's the work of Kim Chung-up, a master of 20th-century Korean modern architecture. The fate of this area splits around the time of Korea's liberation. Before liberation, this neighborhood was associated with death; right after liberation, it was reborn as a wealthy district.”

In front of Exit 3 of Dongdaemun History & Culture Park Station, I looked up at a building whose rounded, cornerless curves flowed together in an exquisite, almost broken rhythm. This building, which served as an obstetrics and gynecology clinic until the 1990s, is now the headquarters of a design firm. The striking free-flowing curves of the exterior bear traces of white paint layered over the original finish. It was originally finished in exposed concrete, but as the building's use changed, several coats of paint were added. Looking at the floor plan, the building takes the shape of both a male sex organ and a fetus inside a womb — a design that reflects the clinic's identity centered on childbirth and life. Giving birth in a hospital is taken for granted today, but before the 1960s, just after the war ended, most women gave birth at home with the help of a midwife. In that era, having an obstetrics clinic in a neighborhood was a sign of wealth. Ironically, before the Japanese colonial period, this neighborhood was associated more with death than life. That story begins at Gwanghuimun, the gate across the street.

Gwanghuimun

“Gwanghuimun, once called ‘Sigumun (屍口門),’ meaning ‘the gate through which corpses pass,’ was the gate through which the bodies of the dead were carried out of the walled city. It even appears in the drama ‘Mr. Sunshine,’ in a scene where the bodies of soldiers killed for resisting the disbandment of the Korean Empire's army are discarded.”

Situated between Sungnyemun and Heunginjimun, Gwanghuimun once guarded the southeastern side of the Hanyangdoseong, Seoul's old city wall. Because it was so closely tied to the daily lives of ordinary people, it went by many names. It was called Sugumun (水口門), meaning it was close to a branch of the old Cheonggyecheon stream, and also Sigumun, the gate through which corpses passed. It's said that burial within the walled city was forbidden, and among the Sasomun (四小門)¹ — the four small gates — only Souimun and Gwanghuimun allowed funeral processions to pass through. As the guide explained,² Gwanghuimun also appears in ‘Mr. Sunshine.’ In 1907, when the Korean Empire's army was forcibly disbanded, righteous army fighters gathered from all over the country in protest. Fierce fighting broke out between Namdaemun and Seosomun — a clash known as the ‘Battle of Namdaemun.’ It ended before half a day had passed, and the bodies of roughly 120 who died were abandoned at Gwanghuimun. The gate tower, damaged during the Japanese colonial period, was restored in 1975 when the gate was moved south.

1 Four small gates within the walls of Seoul, the capital of the Joseon dynasty. Along with Gwanghuimun, the term collectively refers to Hyehwamun, Changuimun, and Souimun.

2 A drama aired in 2018 that tells the story of righteous army fighters during the Korean Empire.

From Sigumun Market to Blacksmith Street

“In the village that formed outside the city gate lived the people who received the dead. Someone had to see off the deceased left outside the gate. And wherever there are the dead, there are shamans. Shindang-dong, meaning ‘a place where shrines (神堂) gather,’ had its Chinese characters changed during the Gabo Reform to a homophone with a different meaning, Sindang (新堂), or ‘new hall.’”

Following the dead through Gwanghuimun and out of the city walls, you arrive at a market. Sigumun Market took shape in the 1960s, after the Korean War. The only shop that remains from that era is Sigumun Rice Cake House. Walking along the slightly uphill alley, signs reading ‘fortune-telling hall’ and ‘fortune-teller's shop’ caught my eye — a vivid reminder that this was once a neighborhood full of shrines consoling the souls of the dead discarded outside Gwanghuimun during the Joseon dynasty. Confucian thought was the exclusive domain of the aristocracy. For ordinary people who couldn't read, shamanistic faith took its place. Poor and desperate people gathered to live around these shrines.
This neighborhood is also said to be the one most frequently mentioned whenever policies for aiding the poor were discussed. The site where Ogeori Mart now stands is said to have once been Hwalinseo, a relief institution, though no trace of it remains today. Hwalinseo was an institution that isolated and treated patients whenever epidemics swept through, with physicians and shamans caring for the sick there. Since jujubes were a cheap and easily obtainable medicinal ingredient at the time, jujube trees were once plentiful in this area. Today, only one remains. Look for the jujube tree that has endured through the years, growing right through the tent of Daechunamu Pocha (Jujube Tree Food Stall).
Passing through the alley nicknamed ‘Ant Alley’ for the hardworking people who gathered there, I came out onto Blacksmith Street. The site now occupied by Dongdaemun Design Plaza (DDP) served as a military training ground from the Joseon dynasty onward. Blacksmiths gathered there to forge the weapons needed at the time, forming Blacksmith Street. After the Korean Empire's army was disbanded in 1907, they made handbells, straw cutters, knives, and other ritual tools used by shamans. Later, through the rise and decline of heavy industry, the street shifted to producing farming tools, which it still makes today.

Shindang-dong Tteokbokki Town

“Shindangcheon, a stream flowing down from Namsan, was filled in and paved over. Afterward, this became Tteokbokki Town. The icon of Shindang-dong, Grandma Ma Bok-rim, was the first person to make tteokbokki with gochujang (fermented chili paste). After she happened to eat rice cakes handed out by a Chinese restaurant together with some black bean sauce that had spilled onto them, she added gochujang and created the tteokbokki we know today.”

It's about a ten-minute walk from Blacksmith Street to Tteokbokki Town. I walked along a road that once was Shindangcheon, a stream that flowed down from Namsan and Daehyeonsan before joining Cheonggyecheon. It's said to have also been called ‘Yaksucheon,’ or ‘medicinal spring stream,’ for water believed to be good for stomach ailments. As we walked, the guide played ‘Hurricane Park (Shindang-dong Tteokbokki)’ by the group DJ DOC, a song about Shindang-dong's tteokbokki. “I met her again after a long time, she loves tteokbokki so much / Where we went, where we went, was a tteokbokki place in Shindang-dong / (…) She set aside her beloved tteokbokki and what she stared at, what she stared at / was the DJ inside the music box.” In the 1970s, what teenagers in Shindang-dong enjoyed alongside their tteokbokki was the DJ booth inside the tteokbokki shops. Teens flocked there for cheap, delicious tteokbokki and a glimpse of the handsome ‘DJ oppa,’ giving rise to today's Tteokbokki Town.

Park Chung-hee House

“In the 1930s, during the Japanese colonial period, the shantytown that had formed here was cleared away to build a cultural housing complex supporting the daily lives of Japanese residents. These homes blended Japanese and Western styles, and President Park Chung-hee's house was built during this period as well. As the city developed, the housing complex was torn down, and the Park Chung-hee House remains the only place that shows what residential life was like at the time.”

“That person I think of when it rains, that person who was always so quiet.” This time, Shim Soo-bong's ‘That Person Back Then’ played through my earphones. I had arrived at the Park Chung-hee House, designated as modern cultural heritage by the Cultural Heritage Administration. The Park family lived here from 1953 to 1961, and after Park Chung-hee's death, his surviving family continued to live there. Why is this house located in Shindang-dong, of all places?
In the 1920s, Shindang-dong, then packed with graves, saw the formation of a shantytown. Unlike a typical squatters' settlement, this refers to huts or dugouts that homeless, impoverished people built on vacant land. At the time, the area reeked of odors drifting over from a waste disposal site and was sparsely populated due to its proximity to a communal graveyard. In 1933, in order to build a cultural housing complex for Japanese residents, about 5,000 shantytown dwellers in Shindang-dong were driven out. On land stained with the suffering and pain of Korean citizens rose a complex of upscale cultural housing. Looking around inside the house, the space — divided into a parlor, study, kitchen, and more — looks little different from a modern apartment. Its most distinctive feature is an indoor bathroom installed in a separate annex.

Baekhak Market · Jungang Market · Ssajeon Street

“After liberation, refugees are said to have opened rice shops here. With around 700 rice shops at one point, you can imagine how renowned this place once was. Ssajeon-geori holds all 100 years of Sindang-dong’s history within it—from the shrines to the rice shops, tteokbokki, and now trendy cafés. Sindang-dong will soon undergo redevelopment. Before these worn but precious sights disappear into the pages of history, please remember the stories of this neighborhood, seen over the course of an hour and a half.”

Red and white flags symbolizing yin and yang flutter in the wind, marking the location of a shrine. Passing through Baekhak Market, where shrines and shops intermingle, Jungang Market comes into view across the way. Even on a weekday afternoon, the market was bustling with people, food, and goods. Jungang Market, one of Seoul’s three great markets, has recently been reborn as a hotspot—offering both the charm of scenery preserved from the past and old restaurants that have captured the tastes of today’s generation. Rounding the corner past Okgyeongine Geonsaengseon, a beloved eatery known for its half-dried grilled and braised fish, we came upon a street lined with rice shops, earning it the name Ssajeon-geori (Rice Shop Street). After liberation, the street once filled with rice shops has since given way to used kitchenware and furniture stores, and the old grain warehouses have become cafés. Gyeongil Sanghoe, the very first company founded by Chairman Chung Ju-yung back in 1938, has since become Daewoo Sanghoe.
The Sindang-dong shaman tour came to a close at Ssajeon-geori, alongside the news of the neighborhood’s upcoming redevelopment. But the strange and curious stories of Sindang-dong will live on—for as long as there are people who remember them.