Amid South Korea’s booming influencer wave, one account stands out from the rest. Belén, a 29-year-old Chilean who graduated with a double major in Archaeology and Global Studies from Busan University, started a project to share Korean culture on social media. Her account was warmly received, quickly building a community of followers eager to dive deeper into Korea’s history and culture. Although she isn’t living in South Korea at the moment, her bond with Asian culture remains strong—not just through her content, but in her plans for the future.

Belén’s passion for Asian culture began in her teens through cinema, which inspired her to study Korean and Chinese back home in Chile. She originally pursued Political Science at the Catholic University of Chile before stepping away to focus entirely on learning Asian languages. That leap of faith led her to apply for the GKS scholarship, bringing her to South Korea in 2021 to start her university studies.

As a follower of her project, I invited her for this interview to learn about ancient Korean civilizations and how that rich past continues to shape modern South Korea’s urban landscape, economy, and culture.

What made you choose Korean archaeology?

Honestly, applying for archaeology was something I thought through very carefully. I was super passionate about Korea and really wanted to understand the country through its culture. I had already consumed a ton of movies, dramas, and literature—I’d even started getting into Korean poetry. I felt I wanted to take a different path from the usual "Korean Studies" or language route that most people pick. I wanted to understand it from an archaeological and historical perspective.

Korean history is fascinating because it goes back thousands of years, but archaeology gave me the chance to do field work and analyze actual artifacts, from the oldest to the most recent. For me, that sheer curiosity mattered more than career stability or financial outlook. I did ask myself, "Is this going to be practical if I go back to Chile?" I didn't overthink it at the time, but I knew that majoring in something so deeply focused on the country itself would be a huge plus. You don't just learn archaeology—you learn the history, the culture, everything. It felt like a solid foundation.

Once I got to Korea, I realized I could double major. Since I hadn't completely dropped the idea of studying international business, I decided to do it as well, tailoring it toward modern and pre-modern Korean studies. It turned out to be a great decision—it was the only program at Busan University taught fully in English with an international faculty.

I actually started studying Chinese at university in Chile. Back then, everyone said Chinese was the language of the future, and I’ve always loved languages. So I started learning Chinese and fell in love with it—even more than Korean at first—because of the characters and the history. My teachers at the Confucius Institute were native Chinese speakers, and the whole experience was amazing because it was so new to me. I was doing really well, but I had to pause for work reasons, which I regret now. After that, I shifted my focus entirely to Korean.

The thing is, back in school in Chile, we weren't taught a curriculum about China or Asia. Whatever I learned about the culture came through the language classes at the Confucius Institute, which is funded by the Chinese government, so they use the same soft power approach Korea uses. What you learn from a government-run institute with specific ideals is very different from what you learn independently. Later, when I worked at an organization focused on China, I coordinated a diploma program in Chinese studies. I learned so much more about Chinese history there because I had to interview professors and scholars.

Through that, I realized there were aspects I didn't fully align with—like the political system, the heavy focus on Sinocentrism (Hanism), and various human rights and women's rights issues that are important to me but felt underdeveloped there. That cooled my interest a bit. I’m quite critical, and I wasn't sure I wanted to live in China long-term. To this day, I haven't been to China, though I'd still love to visit for the archaeology.

That’s why I leaned more toward Korea. Fortunately, during my Korean studies, I had a professor who had lived and studied in Beijing. He taught us Chinese and Central Asian archaeology, which allowed me to reconnect with China—specifically through its archaeological and cultural side.

Have you participated in any archaeological projects in Korea?

Undergraduate students don't get too many field opportunities, but I did get to work on creating 2D technical drawings of artifacts from the Three Kingdoms period—measuring them, documenting their features, and turning them into 3D digital models. I spent about a full year doing that kind of work.

As for field excavations, I actually managed to secure the last remaining spot to work on the excavation site at Gyeongbokgung Palace! On top of that, I took a private course in Gyeongju on my own initiative to learn how to restore ancient Korean ceramics and roof tiles.

In your opinion, what is South Korea’s most important architectural or cultural treasure?

The things I love most—mainly for their philosophical meaning and historical context—are the ceramics. I’m fascinated by ritual objects, like the amphorae used to hold offerings or food placed inside tombs alongside the deceased.

There’s a very famous type of pottery from the Three Kingdoms period called Gobe. It’s a stem bowl used for ritual ceremonies, and each of the three kingdoms had its own distinct design. For example, pottery from the Gaya Confederacy featured flame-shaped or triangular cutouts, while others had three-tiered designs. They’re very recognizable.

Another favorite of mine is Korean roof tiles. The final tile at the edge of the roof, called "Sumaksae", features a unique design that evolved over time. Tiles from the Silla Kingdom are famous for their lotus flower motifs; you can actually tell whether a tile is from an early or late period just by counting the lotus petals, the dots at the center, or looking at how rounded or slender the petals are. It’s an amazing way to see artistic evolution firsthand.

What makes Korean ceramics unique? Are there specific towns or regions known for them?

During the Korean Bronze Age, there was a specific pottery technique where a slower, lower-heat firing process gave the clay a distinct reddish hue. Potters back then added textures using straw brushes—a technique very similar to ancient Japanese pottery, which highlights the early cultural exchange between the two regions.

Later, between the Goryeo and Joseon periods, another technique emerged involving copper-underglaze painting in specialized kilns, marking a highly advanced era for Korean pottery. Today, if you’re looking for regions famous for ceramics, I’d highlight Jeollanam-do and, over in the southwest, Chungcheongnam-do.

Could you recommend five archaeological sites in South Korea that everyone should visit?

Because of its sheer historical diversity across different periods, besides the National Museum of Korea, I’d definitely recommend the Gimhae National Museum near Busan. It’s incredible because that region was the heart of the Gaya Confederacy. They have artifacts ranging from the Paleolithic era onward—tons of ancient jewelry and gemstones.

The burial mounds at Daeryungwon Ancient Tomb Park in Gyeongju are another absolute must-see. While in Gyeongju, you should also visit Bulguksa Temple and the Seokguram Grotto. The stone engineering used for Seokguram at the time is mind-blowing. People tried to loot and strip the temple during foreign occupations and the colonial era, but luckily it was preserved, which is rare in Korea.

In Seoul and Suwon, the royal fortresses and palace complexes are well worth exploring. Busan and Jeju also have impressive Neolithic sites. Honestly, there are just so many! (laughs) And, of course, Gyeongbokgung Palace stands as the grandest surviving symbol of Confucian architecture.

Silla, Baekje, or Goryeo?

That’s so tough! I used to always say Silla because I was obsessed with their level of perfection in metalwork and goldsmithing. But the more I think about it, the more I appreciate Baekje.

All three dynasties traded with China, but you can really see it in Baekje’s tomb design. At the entrance of Baekje tombs, you find tomb-guardian beasts (Muryeong), a practice borrowed directly from Chinese burial traditions. In fact, some archaeologists believe one of the Baekje kings might have originally come from China based on the grave goods found inside his tomb.

Are there significant archaeological treasures located in North Korea?

There are so many fascinating sites in North Korea, and it’s a real shame we can’t access them. For example, the Goryeo Dynasty covered present-day North Korea, parts of China, and even small areas of Russia. In North Korea, you find tombs with vibrant wall paintings depicting the everyday life of the deceased—a style of tomb painting you just don't see in South Korea.

North Korea holds a wealth of history from the Goryeo, Goguryeo, and even Buyeo periods. It’s heartbreaking how restricted access is—even for researchers from countries that can travel there more easily, archaeological research is heavily limited. Kaesong, the ancient capital of Goryeo, is right near the border and filled with invaluable historical ruins. But who knows what condition they’re in or how the regime is preserving them? It’s hard to tell what state those sites are currently in.

Seoul has several controversial colonial-era buildings—like the old City Hall, Seoul Station, or the structure once located behind Gyeongbokgung—built by the Japanese. Some advocate for their demolition, while others prefer preserving them. What’s your take?

In the case of Gyeongbokgung, the Japanese colonial government actually built their massive Capitol Building right inside the palace grounds. It wasn't until around the 1990s and 2000s that serious efforts were made to demolish those structures and restore the original palace grounds. Even recently, new restored sections have reopened to the public, similar to what’s been done at Jongmyo Shrine, where Confucian royal ancestral rituals were held.

When it comes to remaining colonial-era architecture, I think in many contexts, it’s worth keeping them as they are. It’s vital not to erase the physical traces of a historical era, no matter how painful it was. Erasing those buildings risks losing historical memory. While every case is different, I don't believe in wiping those places out completely. And if a building is demolished, there should at least be a clear plaque explaining what used to stand there. That history needs to be passed down to future generations.

Recently, local governments have favored modernizing old urban areas over preserving traditional neighborhoods. How do you view this? Is it inevitable, or can a balance be found?

I think it’s really unfortunate for Korea’s urban development. Construction politics can be tough anywhere, but even in mountainous areas where building is difficult, it’s possible to design liveable spaces that respect history. If a new residential tower is going up, it should at least harmonize with the local architecture, the neighborhood’s history, and the existing community. Besides, there’s so much real estate speculation and inflation—I mean, who can actually afford those modern apartments in Seoul?

It’s a serious issue that so many people want to live in other provinces but can’t because all the opportunities are concentrated in the capital. That stems partly from a lack of political will to encourage real estate developers to build elsewhere. These things might seem obvious, but to those prioritizing profit over people, they aren't.

What’s happening to these old villages and traditional districts in Seoul is deeply sad. So many neighborhoods have rich histories—some centered around specific artisan industries, others formed by post-war refugees or agricultural communities. Yet in 10 years, you know those places won't exist anymore, and their history will be forgotten. It breaks my heart, not just for the lost heritage, but for the residents whose lives and memories are traded away so casually.

Korea’s modern expansion was built on immense human sacrifice, and there has to be a limit to how much we sacrifice for the sake of "progress." There’s a widespread individualism in Korea right now where people only look out for their own property values—like wanting a brand-new apartment block built regardless of the impact on the local community or social fabric. Even in Seoul’s Green Belt, people use the land for urban farming and community projects, but it’s always temporary because developers will eventually clear it. It destroys the few spaces left where people can connect and build real community—because you can’t easily build that kind of social connection inside high-rise apartment towers.

You often see online comments comparing South Korean historical tourism unfavorably to China or Japan. What’s your perspective on Korean cultural tourism?

Korea is in a very complex position compared to China and Japan. China’s government heavily promotes state-focused, nationalist tourism. China also possesses the oldest history among the three, serving as the birthplace of many philosophical and religious movements that later spread to Korea and Japan. Furthermore, China didn't experience the exact same style of cultural devastation that Korea suffered during the Mongol invasions, foreign occupations, and the Japanese colonial period—where vast amounts of historical records, Buddhist temples, and royal palaces were burned to the ground. Compared to what once existed, very little survived. In that sense, Korea suffered the heaviest losses historically.

Japan, on the other hand, was an imperial power not just in Korea, but across China, the Philippines, and Taiwan. As a result, visitors today can admire 500-year-old wooden castles and temples that remained untouched by foreign invasion. Korea’s history of conflict put it at a major disadvantage in preserving physical heritage.

We also have to remember that Korea transitioned almost overnight from centuries-old dynasties to 20th-century modernization under Japanese colonial rule. Going directly from royal Confucian traditions to foreign occupation meant Korea had a much longer, more complicated path toward figuring out its own identity—defining what heritage means and rewriting its own narrative after the devastation of war.

Modern Korean historians are quite critical of the overly nationalist framing used in presenting modern history. Unfortunately, it’s often politicians rather than historians who commercialize history. The official narrative can feel very closed off, glossing over painful or complex topics like comfort women, dictatorship, and human rights. Korea actually has many incredible memory museums—perhaps more than other countries—but the overarching push often prioritizes economic gain over nuanced storytelling.

Compared to its neighbors, Korea’s global tourism push is relatively recent. There’s definitely room to grow in terms of historical authenticity and marketing hidden gems beyond the obvious highlights. Tourists eventually reach a point where they want to discover more than just K-pop and Korean dramas. Han Kang winning the Nobel Prize in Literature, for instance, showed the world that there’s immense global interest in Korean literature and art. I get messages all the time from people interested in traditional Korean textiles, crafts, and cuisine. Korea needs to open up and embrace policies that preserve both its tangible and intangible culture.

For example, master artisans spend their entire lives mastering a traditional dance or craft, but many of these art forms are dying out because the rigid hierarchical system makes it hard to pass the torch. Opening these apprenticeships to foreigners who are passionate about keeping the traditions alive would be amazing. I don't see anything wrong with that, but Korea isn't quite there yet.

By contrast, Japan’s massive tourism appeal is the result of a deliberate national strategy launched back in the late 1990s—they’re reaping the rewards of a 30-year plan. China’s domestic tourism is newer and more state-controlled, but because of its sheer geographical size, it offers endless historical destinations.

In Korea, there are incredible, lesser-known regions like Buyeo, Iksan, and Gongju. They’re smaller cities, but they pack immense historical value, gorgeous landscapes, and well-preserved fortresses. Local tourism definitely needs more support, but it all comes down to funding and vision. The goal should be inspiring visitors to fall in love with these places so they stay longer and return, rather than making brief day trips just because a location went viral on social media. Diversifying the tourism landscape is key—there are so many people interested in sports, fine arts, and history beyond pop culture.

What are your thoughts on modern Korean cultural identity? Is it fading, or simply evolving?

Rather than fading, I’d call it a transformation. Every culture goes through it. Globalization pushes societies to open up in some ways while closing off in others. Unfortunately, under our current global mindset, people often value external influences over their own roots, which can feel like a loss.

Historically, modern Korea was heavily shaped by foreign powers that stepped in during crises—like the United States introducing its capitalist model. Korea has great cultural institutions that could lead the way in preserving heritage, but doing so effectively requires moving past rigid nationalism and allowing more progressive, creative ideas to take hold. It’s about showcasing culture as living heritage rather than just a commercial commodity.

It also comes down to how culture is taught from a young age. On one hand, Korean museums and cultural centers do a great job hosting free programs for kids, youth, and seniors to learn about their roots. But that needs to go deeper—it’s about understanding why these traditions are a source of pride beyond just aesthetics. There also needs to be more intergenerational dialogue. Because younger and older generations hold such different values today, there’s sometimes more apathy than a shared desire to protect their heritage. Building that intergenerational bridge is far more valuable than simply hosting institutional events.

How did your social media project get started?

I had never created digital content before! It actually started out of a bit of frustration with the type of Korea-related content I was seeing online. I got tired of seeing the same superficial topics over and over again. There’s nothing wrong with lighthearted content, but the market was already saturated with it.

After living in Korea for five years, gaining a deeper understanding of the language and culture, I felt compelled to share a different side of the country. I chose to create content in Spanish because, even today, there’s very little Korean literature or deep cultural commentary available in Spanish. People are only just beginning to publish Spanish-language books about Korea. I recently attended the launch of a book called Halmoni, which focuses on the comfort women during the Japanese colonial period.

We’re only now seeing the published work of Latin American scholars who have spent years studying in Korea. There are very few Latin American Koreanists—Mexico is probably the most advanced in that regard. But even on a smaller scale, accessible cultural content was lacking. I realized there were so many fascinating historical and cultural nuances worth sharing with the Spanish-speaking world.

How has the audience responded to your content?

Fortunately, the response has been wonderful! I’ve received so many kind messages from people thanking me for offering a fresh perspective. A lot of people interested in Korea were searching for something beyond beauty trends, pop music, and K-dramas. It’s super rewarding to know people find value in what I share.

What is your ultimate goal as a Korean archaeologist? What’s next for you?

I’m not sure if or when I’ll move back to Korea, but if I do, I’d love to pursue a Master’s degree in Anthropology to study modern Korean societal issues in depth. I previously took courses on modern Korea through El Colegio de México—their scholars are fantastic, and it completely expanded my perspective on Korean society. I chose anthropology because it’s the perfect tool for examining complex social dynamics.

In particular, I’d love to research the diaspora returning to Korea—specifically Latin American-born Koreans moving to South Korea for the first time. Also, a university in Chile recently launched a Master’s program in Korean Studies and is looking for professors with expertise in the field, so I’m hoping to teach a course on Korean Cultural Heritage there next year!

The conversation was incredibly warm and engaging, and time completely flew by! Although I was left with endless questions I would have loved to ask, I deeply appreciate the generosity and time Belén shared for this interview.

This chat was a powerful reminder that urbanism is never just about concrete and architecture; it is a living tapestry woven from social shifts, natural environments, and historical processes. Archaeology gives us the tools to grow as a society—it bridges our past with our present, teaching us that to build a meaningful future, we must first learn to honor and understand the footprints left behind.

I truly hope Belén’s projects and professional reach continue to cross borders, inspiring and enriching many more minds along the way. If you're curious to dive deeper into her unique perspective, make sure to follow her journey on Instagram: @belenencorea