The Home Stretch: How I Learned to Love Yoga in Korea
I’ve never deemed myself a “Yoga girl.” Neither long-limbed nor flexible, I’ve always lacked the grace necessary to don leggings, nasally exhale and mount the perfect downward dog. I envied my yoga-going friends’ sexy abs, yet felt bored (literally) stiff when I accompanied them to classes. I was a “sporty girl,” therefore I liked … hitting things. A hearty sport follows three rules: competition, aggression and sweat. I wanted to exhaust myself and then feel justified inhaling a hamburger and a few beers afterwards.
After moving to Korea, my change in fitness routine came over three phases and fifteen months.
Phase 1: Denial. I pretended I could enjoy the same sports in Korea as I did in Texas. This didn’t work. I couldn’t find lacrosse or tennis partners. I do still run—at the risk of my personal safety. Sharing the road with taxis, delivery bikes and hoards of (finger-pointing) teenagers turns a casual jog into a sick game of Grand Theft Auto. After some months of frustrating workouts, I turned indoors.
Phase 2: Acceptance. I joined a gym. Not fond of imitating hamsters, I scorned the treadmills. The weight-circuit was fine except for the Korean men who lifted half-as-much iron, consequently crowning me resident Waygook Strong-Woman Wonder. Strike two.
Phase 3 (Assimilation): Yoga. But I’m not a Yoga Girl, I told myself again and again as I signed up for HotYoga (“HotYoga” is the studio’s name), two months ago. Yet I was desperate for a fulfilling workout. And the studio—located in Gwangju’s classy Bongseon-dong district—looks so much more legit than a lot of Korea’s ajumma-pounding, sparkle-infested group exercise classes.
Legit it is. “HotYoga Studio” (핫요가 아카데미) offers two options: five classes per week for 120,000 won a month (280,000 for three months) or three classes for 110,000 won (260,000 for three months). Towels, mats and a locker room are provided. The locker room has showers. Read this: you will need a shower after these yoga classes. Whether you go to “Hot,” “Core,” “Balance” or “Ashtanga” yoga, you are guaranteed to leave any after 60-minutes swimming in your own sweat. This is in part due to the room’s constant 38-degree Celsius (or 102 degrees Fahrenheit) temperature regulation. But the majority of your sweat serves to emphasize my most recent realization: yoga is work, y’all. Like, it hurts.
Some readers may have practiced Bikram Yoga, also known as “hot yoga,” in their home country. I’ve gone to a few Bikram classes back in America: they’re held in 105 Fahrenheit rooms, 90 minutes long and conducted solely by Bikram-certified instructors. Let’s label “HotYoga Studio” as Bikram-Lite. The room isn’t quite steamy enough and the poses aren’t held long enough to induce the same nauseating exhaustion/euphoria as Bikram. But it’s a significantly more intense workout than the stereotypical, docile hippy-pant yoga I imagined.
From the moment I walk into the studio to the moment I leave, the vibe just feels professional. Classes are held in pure Korean so I try to make maximal use of visual instruction. But it’s surprisingly easy to follow (if difficult to imitate). A mix of fellow newbies and calendar-fit yoga enthusiasts surround me. It’s a comfortable blend. I know I can follow the hard-core girls if the instructor steps out of sight, but I feel secure knowing that I’m not the only person struggling. Furthermore, our instructor is efficient and clear in her directions; she demonstrates everything and isn’t shy about correcting my posture, which I appreciate. I’ve been the lone foreigner in a Korean exercise class before and felt extremely awkward for it. Perhaps it was my own insecurities but I felt more spectacle than part of the class, so much that I couldn’t focus on my own workout. I’ve never suffered “Awkward Waygook” Syndrome here. I chalk it up to the studio’s instructor and every member’s own seriousness towards the class. I always leave with sore muscles and a peaceful state of mind.
Now the truth all foreigners come to accept: Korea changes you. It’s a comically obvious truth. We often think of “change” as a poignant yet nebulous shift in our interior beings; we forget change is most evident in the ways we conduct life here that’s different from back home. Expectations of what we once did easily—drink a craft beer, eat a dollar taco, go for a jog—evaporate in a new cultural landscape. The absence of these “normal” activities challenged my initial happiness in Korea. But ultimately, the HotYoga Studio has disproved two of my more narrow-minded notions: quality group exercise is available in Korea and yoga is awesome. What I once dismissed as a lackluster pseudo-sport, I now embrace as a challenging and ultra-physical conditioning that influence both body and mind. Truth: I’ve never craved a hamburger afterwards. But maybe that’s for the best.
Hi. Where do you practice Yoga in Gwangju?
Hello Lill,
There are many yoga studios around Gwangju.
For English language classes, check the Gwangju Yoga Facebook Page for regular updates:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/102721549793483/
Gwangju News Online Editor
hello.
i just moved to Korea and i stay in Gwangju, can you please advise me on any yoga classes around gwangju via email maybe because i dont have access to facebook at the moment.