露茶女

Rojanyeo, n. "Russian tea girl."

I confess that this entry was entirely inspired by "Gangnam Style."

There is a certain class of teahouse, in present-day Korea, that can be counted among the most exclusive, inaccessible places on the planet. The Chapel of the Tablet, the inside of the Ka'aba, and some parts of Mt. Athos are joined by cafes in P'yongyang, Wonsan and Chemulpo. Some of them are by invitation only, and the only unexpected guests allowed are of royal descent. Those are the less exclusive ones.

None of them are Korean teahouses. To be that kind of exclusive is, by definition, to be a Russian (or at least Russian-style) teahouse, the ones that epitomize P'yongyang modernity. You rent samovars? The samovars are lacquered and gilded, each one a masterpiece of Russo-Korean fusion artwork. Some of the teahouses let you rent specific ones; the most popular can be booked months in advance.

In the eyes of this tiny peninsular nation-state, nobody will ever step through those doors except for the only people in the world who will ever matter. Those teahouses are where you go to see the petty people being seen.

Korea is also home to an extremely stratified society, and while it's legally abolished the more onerous of its social institutions (the cheonmin are no longer chattel, for instance) [when?], the formal Confucian hierarchy has been more than adequately replaced by the insane wealth disparities that are part and parcel of the Industrial Revolution.

There is, therefore, a certain kind of working girl (and yes, that is a pun) who will do anything to get into those teahouses. (Possibly inside the teahouses themselves. Some of the poshest aren't above sex in the private booths.) These are the rojanyeo.