One of the things that has struck me as particularly interesting in the short time I have been here is the juxtaposition of ancient and modern in South Korean culture.
Everyone has the latest smartphones or flashy laptop or tablet computers, all connected by some of the fastest internet in the world.
Glass skyscrapers line streets, highways packed with new model cars snake endlessly on and an ultra-efficient public transport system can take you (almost) from your doorstep to where ever you need to go.
You can even get from one end of South Korea to the other in three hours by the KTX, the highspeed train that travels over 300kmh.
All this has happened in a relatively short time, about 50 years, and yet through it all, Koreans have hung to some of their ancient culture.
I don't just mean the tangible links such as the historical palaces still standing (well, rebuilt after being destroyed during war and the Japanese occupation) and the great city gates which loom over the crowded streets, but the intangible things.
Korean culture has been influenced by Confucianism, Buddhism, Shamanism and, more recently, Christianity.
Though Korean's may not follow these religions any more, aspects have become an ingrained part of their culture.
For example, Jesa, or ancestral rites. Though rooted in Confucian ideaology, the rites are performed by almost everyone in Korea, except Protestants apparently.
Because I am staying in a homestay, I was lucky enough to experience one of these rituals recently.
It was only by chance that I happened to be there and the family were rather apologetic for making me sit through the "boring" ceremony.
It was a Friday and I had worked away from the office that day so got home a lot earlier from work.
It was suggested that we go to the local market for dinner as the mother wanted to buy a specific kind of fish.
As we were leaving the market I was told the reason for this fish: that night the family would perform Jesa and we were to drop the fish off for the mother's family.
The ceremony, performed on the anniversary of an ancestors death, was for the mother's grandmother. Normally this family wouldn't attend that ceremony because, as she was married, the mother now attends the ceremonies of her husband's family.
But, the mother's brother was ill and therefore, her family needed help preparing for the ceremony.
In the tiny kitchen of a tiny apartment, there was a flurry of activity as women prepared many different dishes of fish, beef, rice, soups, vegetables, fruit and rice cakes.
In the adjacent lounge, a paper screen was set up (facing north, as tradition dictates) and before it, a laquer table that was slowly filled with food.
There was a panic among attendants of the ceremony - they couldn't find the photos of the people they were there to pay their respects to.
Eventually they were found (the grandmother whose death it was the annniversary of and her husband) and placed behind the food, flanked by large candles and perfumed by an intense incense that burned in front of the table.
The food is generally laid out specifically and according to custom - rice, meat and white fruit and vegetables on the West side; soup, fish and red fruit and vegetables on the East side. Fruits were placed in the front then meat and fish, then vegetables and finally, the rice and soups.
There seemed to be a bit if discussion around placement of food at this ceremony and I don't think it was done exactly as it should have been done.
There was a bowl of lollies at one corner of the table. Not such a traditional part of the offering and I still don't know why they were there, the grandmother's favourite food maybe.
From then until the end of the ceremony, men only were allowed into the room.
It begun with a greeting to the spirits, and then the opening of a door to allow them to enter.
The eldest man then made the "initial offering" (Choheon) of food and wine to the ancestors - basically filling a shot glass with soju (rice wine) and circulating it around the table and stopping before each photo in turn,then bowing before the table twice.
This was repeated by the father of my host family who had stepped in as the other brother was ill.
Normally, this process would continue until all the males had made their offerings.
It is meant to be a solemn occaision but this family couldn't quite remember the procedure and so had to keep discussing things and halting the ceremony. Once, one of the women had to step into the room.
After the initial offering came the "serving of the meal" in which the eldest male put a spoon in the rice bowls and bowed. This too is usually done in turn by each male, in order of seniority.
The final step in this part of the ceremony was the "tea or drink offering" where soju, poured from a teapot, was offered to the ancestors.
Once each man had done this, and bowed, they bowed twice together to farewell the spirits until the next year.
Then, we women were officially allowed into the room, we ate the food, cleaned up and went home.
The family were very apologetic for making me sit through it and could not understand that I found it fascinating. I explained that back home, we have no such rituals and generally remember our deceased family members in our own way, which was when I was told most people in Korea perform these rituals, sometimes for ancestors up to five generations back.
Once a year, on the first Sunday in May, a much more elaborate Jesa known as Jongmyo Jerye is performed at the Jongmyo Shrine in Seoul by about 1700 people for the old Kings and Queens of the Joseon Dynasty.
It is accompanied by traditional dance and music apparently composed by King Sejong.
That ceremony has been designated as a UNESCO Masterpiece of Oral and Intangible History.
