As a mother of two, I feel guilty and responsible for the staggering youth unemployment rate. The hopelessness and the desperation expressed by many of today’s young Koreans trouble me deeply.

Seeing young people doing their best in whatever position life has landed them in moves me and inspires me. It must be a sign of getting old that I want to do something to make their day a little better when I see them try so hard.

Just the other day, I was looking at a box of doughnuts and mochi, Japanese sticky rice desert filled with red beans. Another sign of getting on with age is that one tends to become chatty.

Whereas before I would have just picked up the box and paid for it, probably only muttering “Thank you” as the young woman at the counter handed me the receipt and the box, I lingered that day and asked if the doughnuts were too sweet. She cheerfully answered, “No. We don’t use much sugar in our batter.” When I continued, “How about mochi? They are usually very sweet,” she replied with a big smile, “These are really not sweet. In fact, I like them better than the doughnuts.”

It was the end of a long day for me and I was sure it had been a long day for her too, standing on her feet all day, quite possibly having had to answer similar questions from numerous customers. Her sincerity and smile was so infectious, I ended up buying the two remaining boxes. This way, she would be done with selling for the day. I wanted the young salesperson to know that being dedicated to her work, however menial or insignificant it may seem to others, will somehow be recognized and rewarded.

Just half an hour before that pleasant encounter, I had been upset with the unprofessionalism of the wait staff at the restaurant where I was eating.

When I asked about the serving size, the young server stared at me with a blank face as if I had asked her a very stupid question or as if she had no idea why I was asking it. After a few seconds of awkward silence, she finally blurted, “Just right.” I had to try mighty hard to resist the urge to pull her closer and ask, “Just right for who? For you? For me? How would you know what is just right for me?” I had had a tough day at work that day, readers may surmise.

Maybe it was just that kind of day, with the server literally dropping plates on the table; having to wave my arm in the air for way too long before I could have my glass of water filled; and waiting at the empty counter for what seemed like several minutes so that I could pay and leave. My complaint lies not with the poor service, but with the lack of professionalism shown by the restaurant employees.

Yet, such experiences are quite common -- whether it be at a humble mom-and-pop diner, or a swanky establishment billed as a hot spot. On one too many occasions, I have had to resort to yelling “Here!” much to my chagrin.

A few years ago, I found myself interpreting for a team of chefs from Korea who were holding a special Korean cuisine promotion event at the Taj Mahal Palace hotel in Mumbai. A few hours before the restaurant was to open for dinner, the wait staff had requested a session with the Korean chefs on how to serve Korean food. This was something that had not occurred to the team from Korea.

The very professional staff, some of whom appeared to have spent a lifetime waiting on tables at the hotel, knew that to do their job properly they needed to know what dishes to recommend, how they should be served and how they should be eaten. For example, what soup should they recommend with bibimbap? How is bibimbap eaten? They asked many questions standing on a very narrow staircase next to the kitchen, carefully jotting down the chefs’ instructions. They took pride in their professionalism.  

I recently asked a restaurateur friend how long her staff stay on the job. About one year on average, she said, with some staying as briefly as two months. While some have been with the restaurant for more than a decade, they are the exception, she explained.

While she rigorously trains her staff, she said it is ultimately up to the individual. It is unfortunate that some of the young staff quit all too quickly without having figured out what they want to do. “I tell them that if you do well here, you will do well anywhere,” she said.

“Your beginnings will seem humble, so prosperous will your future be,” read the signs that are frequently found at entrance to shops and restaurants. But one does not go from humble beginnings to great prosperity by merely wishing it. The phrase “Heaven helps those who help themselves,” which by the way has nothing to do with the Bible but is attributed to Aesop, ought to be remembered as well. To achieve greatness, you have to work hard at it and persevere.

By Kim Hoo-ran

Kim Hoo-ran is the culture desk editor at The Korea Herald. She can be reached at khooran@heraldcorp.com. — Ed.