After a cup of black or herbal tea the two work in separate rooms β Seo-Ran as an essayist, while Eo-Rie studies for an exam. Around noon, they cook lunch, then sit down to eat and watch their favourite comedy series.
Soon, the sound of them giggling fills the living room of their three-bedroom apartment. Outside, green cabbage fields stretch for miles. In the evening, the two eat dinner, and then do the household chores.
On clear nights, the silhouette of a mountain gleams in the distance as they practise yoga before bed, chatting about friends and work, and winding up another day in their quiet lives. Despite being her adopted daughter, Eo-Rie is 38 β just five years younger than year-old Seo-Ran.
The women have been best friends and roommates for seven years. By law, only those related by blood, marriage between a man and a woman, and adoption are recognised as family. Strict gender roles and patriarchal family culture remain deeply ingrained in South Korea. But in recent years, more South Koreans have started to challenge these norms. They are increasingly pushing the government to accept a broader range of companionships as family, such as unmarried couples or friends living together, and demanding rights and services available to conventional family units.
The story of how Seo-Ran and Eo-Rie became family represents this desire to challengeβand reimagineβwhat it means to be family in South Korea. Seo-Ran grew up near Seoul in a middle-class family with a working father, a stay-at-home mother and an older brother β a nuclear household that by then had replaced the traditional multi-generational home.
