Written by Dann Gaymer

Downtown Daegu. A myriad of designer boutiques fraternized by young Korean girls in hot pants and high heels, noraebang karaoke bars, pulsing neon signs. Amongst all of this lies the Playstation Café, an altar to video game entertainment systems where patrons can revel in the fluorescent glow of pixelated sub realities.

Stalled somewhere between an arcade and a cyber café, it sits somewhere near to a “PC Room”: a subculture of Korean youths whiling away their free time in rooms filled with hi-spec PC’s, playing online games like World of Warcraft, chain smoking and consuming copious quantities of soft drinks. The PC Room subculture is so prevalent that foreigners working as English Teachers in the numerous hagwons soon learn that asking their male teenage pupils what they did on the weekend is pointless, as the answer is invariably:

“Study, sleep, PC Room.”

As the name suggests, the Playstation Café is a little different in that there are no PC’s for public use inside, only Playstation 2 consoles. Behind the front desk sits a wall of titles and a bored looking attendant. Descending down the stairs, you emerge into a long room where cool air washes around, spilling down from the mammoth AC units humming overhead. On either side, enormous flat screen televisions sag on the walls, caged in by boardroom style desks and ultra padded reclining chairs. Each screen, desk and associated set of chairs is partitioned off from the next by a few silver pipes and dangling cables and while one wall follows this pseudo-futurist theme, the opposing wall takes an almost Classical Greek aesthetic, complete with plaster columns and earthenware pots. Little attention is paid to the décor, however, as the teenage clientele almost always have their eyes glued to the screens. Like their fathers may well do in the skyscrapers owned by companies such LG and Samsung, they sit around big tables in deluxe padded chairs. Yet they do not discuss the company’s stock value, the strength of the Won or the annual report they are due to deliver. In fact, they discuss nothing at all, as most of the outward expressions they make are through the actions they command on the screens above. Despite the wall of games behind the front desk have more than enough selections to choose from, (shoot em’ ups, beat em’ ups, etc) on every screen it is the same story: simulations of Wayne Rooney and Thierry Henry belting goals into the back of nets to rapturous computer generated applause.

Strangely enough, there is not a Playstation 3 in sight, instead, the consoles are exclusively Playstation 2’s, black slabs of plastic turned on their sides, quietly humming away, processing data and generating the images sent out of the screens. The graphics the console produces could be considered obsolete, if only for the cardboard cut out spectators that line the radioactive-green pitch. On the other hand, I suppose the graphics give an almost ‘cult’ value to the games and as the enduring popularity of the Street Fighter series (until recently an entirely 2D animated affair), game play easily wins over graphics, time and time again.

Here on a humid Sunday night, every screen is being used while smoke wafts upwards into the vents between the buzzing AC units, faces cast in a strange green hue by the light flooding out from the on-screen action. Ashtrays fill up rapidly, can after can of Dr. Pepper is sucked dry, twitching eyeballs pinned to the glow. Most of the screens are muted, all the commentary that is needed is given by the teenage boys grouped around, whilst cheers or cries of anguish erupt with every goal. Much like in real life minor league football, especially five-a-side, the audience are the participants in the performance; direct interaction, no division between watchers and watched. All the excitement and cold rushes of adrenaline are there, the verbal responses, gasps of joy or bitter criticism of the virtual referee. Anybody with their eyes closed may actually believe they are at an actual football match, if it were not for the lack of smells and tastes. There is no poignant smell of wet grass or split larger, only stale cigarette smoke and spilt soft drinks.

The main question that sprung to my mind is, why come downtown to play Playstation 2 games? I am willing to bet these kids all own PS2’s and if they do not they could easily pick one up for dirt cheap in this part of the world, what with it being an outmoded console and all. Yet this is assuming that the only reason they are coming to the PS Café is for the consoles and the games. This would overlook the other vital ingredient of the clientele, the other teenage Koreans. There is, after all, limited fun to be had competing against a computer (and essentially against yourself). Here, somewhat of a competitive aspect arises; groups of teenagers can come together and flex their muscles in this public arena (the muscles in their fingers, of course, but more than anything, flexing their brains and reflexes). There is a complete engagement with the simulation, after all, if you cannot actually be five thousand miles away playing for Real Madrid, then you can do the next best thing and prove yourself as a formidable presence on the pitch, in the comfort of a padded office chair in an air conditioned room.

Who knows? In certain circles, this reality may even be considered superior.

Culture Tips: Koreans refer to Playstation cafes as ‘플스방’ (pron. ‘puhl-suh bahng’), which is short form pronunciation for ‘Playstation Bang (room)’. Often you can find PCs and Playstations co-existing in one PC bang or sometimes you can find a 플스방 dedicated only to Playstations. The below map shows two locations, where both playstations and PCs are under the same roof. Please note that Megaweb is directly below Burger King, so best way to get there is to go the ATMs to the right of the stairwell that leads up to Bennigan’s, and then once by the ATMs, look for the stairwell or elevator to the right leading down to the PC bang.