South Koreans lock themselves up to escape prison of daily life

South Koreans lock themselves up to escape prison of daily life

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For most people, prison is a place to escape from. For South Koreans in need of a break from the demands of everyday life, a day or two in a faux jail is the escape.

"This prison gives me a sense of freedom," said Park Hye-ri, a 28-year-old office worker who paid $90 to spend 24 hours locked up in a mock prison.

. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji
Participants prepare to be locked up.

Since 2013, the "Prison Inside Me" facility in northeast Hongcheon has hosted more than 2,000 inmates, many of them stressed office workers and students seeking relief from South Korea's demanding work and academic culture.

. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji
Park stretches inside a cell.

"I was too busy," said Park as she sat in a 5-sq-m (54-sq-foot) cell. "I shouldn't be here right now, given the work I need to do. But I decided to pause and look back at myself for a better life."

Prison rules are strict. No talking with other inmates. No mobile phones or clocks.

. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji
A participant takes a nap.

Clients get a blue prison uniform, a yoga mat, tea set, a pen and notebook. They sleep on the floor. There is a small toilet inside the room, but no mirror.

The menu includes steamed sweet potato and a banana shake for dinner, and rice porridge for breakfast.

. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji
An administrator distributes a meal to a participant.

Co-founder Noh Ji-Hyang said the mock prison was inspired by her husband, a prosecutor who often put in 100-hour work weeks.

"He said he would rather go into solitary confinement for a week to take a rest and feel better," she said. "That was the beginning."

. Incheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji
Park works at her office.

A downturn in South Korea's high-tech, export-driven economy has intensified a hyper-competitive school and work environment that experts say adds to a high incidence of stress and suicide.

South Koreans worked 2,024 hours on average in 2017, the third longest after Mexico and Costa Rica, in a survey of 36 member countries in the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD).

To help people work less and earn more, the government has raised the minimum wage and cut the legal cap on working hours to 52 per week from 68. But the policies could backfire and put at risk more jobs than they create, economists say.

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Slideshow

Participants take a walk before being locked up.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

Participants take a walk before being locked up.

Park takes a selfie with her friends before being locked up.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

Park takes a selfie with her friends before being locked up.

Park and her friends prepare to be locked up.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

Park and her friends prepare to be locked up.

Mobile phones of participants.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

Mobile phones of participants.

A participant meditates before being locked up.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

A participant meditates before being locked up.

Participants bow before being locked up.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

Participants bow before being locked up.

Park walks to a cell.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

Park walks to a cell.

An administrator serves meals.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

An administrator serves meals.

A participant eats a meal inside a cell.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

A participant eats a meal inside a cell.

A window of a cell.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

A window of a cell.

Park sits inside a cell.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

Park sits inside a cell.

A participant looks through the window of a cell.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

A participant looks through the window of a cell.

Park receives a certificate of parole after spending time at Prison Inside Me.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

Park receives a certificate of parole after spending time at Prison Inside Me.

Prison Inside Me is shrouded by fog at dawn.
. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

Prison Inside Me is shrouded by fog at dawn.

Park walks home from work.
. Incheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

Park walks home from work.

Park uses her mobile phone on her way back home from work.
. Incheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

Park uses her mobile phone on her way back home from work.

Park uses a laptop at a cafe.
. Incheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

Park uses a laptop at a cafe.

Park shows her Youtube channel at a cafe.
. Incheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji

Park shows her Youtube channel at a cafe.

Noh said some customers are wary of spending 24 or 48 hours in a prison cell, until they try it.

"After a stay in the prison, people say, 'This is not a prison, the real prison is where we return to,'" she said.

. Hongcheon, South Korea. Reuters/Kim Hong-Ji
Participant are seen through the windows of Prison Inside Me.