In brief
South Korean readers are turning to a surprising new dating format—a 30‑hour retreat at Donghwasa temple in the south of the country. The BBC program followed 12 singles and host Jake Kwon as they navigated meditation, traditional activities and matchmaking guided by Buddhist monks. The retreat blending serene temple life with social experiments challenges participants to find meaningful connections without coffee or drinks. Though a couple claimed a spark, the overall success of love in this setting remains uncertain, raising questions about the future of spiritually‑led matchmaking. The experiment highlights new ways societies search for connection amid the present world’s fast pace.
Seven hours of prayer, two evenings of shared meals, and fifteen minutes of sincere conversation—this is what a 30‑hour dating retreat inside the tranquil walls of Donghwasa temple looks like. The program aired by BBC News reflects what South Korean pop culture calls “the capsule romance.” Instead of the usual coffee‑shop buzz, attendee 12 singles found themselves in incense‑filled halls, guided by the monks who call the place a haven for those seeking inner peace and a partner.
The concept is simple: participants are assigned “mushmen” (mentors) who help them navigate both the logistics of a weekend retreat and their budding relationships. The monks praise the practice for enabling couples to connect on a spiritual level before heads‑to‑heads romance; yet, the program’s host, BBC journalist Jake Kwon, reports an atmosphere of intense vulnerability that has left the audience unsure whether the experiment produced more matches or simply memories.
The retreat’s schedule is packed: a morning of mindfulness exercises, a midday meditation, and a shared bamboo lunch. Simple, sober meals create quieter moments, allowing strangers to talk without the noise of modern dating apps or social media. The monks introduce pairs through an ice‑breaker ritual that reads inspirational scriptures, and the participants discuss their expectations for a life partner over tea. Online commenters bring up the question of safety: should religious figures take part in matchmaking? The monks assures that their role is advisory and that participants are still fully in control of any romantic decisions.
The short reality‑TV set of the weekend concluded with a group cleanup ceremony called a “mindful farewell.” Attendees received a subtle hand‑shake, and none of the nine couples claimed to be officially engaged. When asked, a single participant noted that “you drink tea in a temple and you end up feeling old, you’re afraid to open your heart.” The host later reported that the participants felt “truly connected to themselves as well as others.” Whether that gives them a more lasting love story remains a future mystery.
The Bailey fishermen of the temple’s eight‑tiered roof say the retreat helps them grow confidence since every conversation is built around common spirituality. Still, social critics raise concerns about turning worship into a match‑making platform, arguing it blurs personal boundaries. Meanwhile, social media users are curious about the decline of conventional dating, looking for a fresh version that reduces the noise from “online dating chaos.” If South Korean millennials are jealous enough for a whole weekend at a Buddhist temple, this experiment may show what the future of social modelling looks like. It could also be a sign that “mindfulness” is the new currency of romance.
