By Christine Kim and Ju-min Park
(Reuters) - On Thursday 690,000 students from South Korea will take the annual exams that could lead them to one of the country's top universities and eventually a good job for life.
Temples and churches across Korea will be jammed with mothers fervently praying this week, not for salvation, but for their children’s success in the National College Entrance Exam..
The experience of preparing for and taking the exam, commonly call “exam hell” in Korea, is a central part of Korea’s educational system. For three years of their lives, the central focus of all high students in Korea is that one day in November. What happens that day determines which college they will enter, which in turn determines their future beyond what they do once they get into college.
One of the little jokes of life in Korea is that college is widely considered a four-year break between Korea’s grueling secondary school system and grinding work culture.
" I have been so stressed! I haven't allowed guests into my home recently because of superstitions against strangers," said Kwon Jeong-hee, whose son is taking the so-called CSAT tests for the second time.
The exams are a major event here, and society tries to make things easier for stressed students.
During oral tests, aircraft will not take off and land, and drivers will not sound their horns.
Police vehicles will escort late-running students to the exam rooms. Even the stock exchange will open an hour late to reduce traffic jams.
A national scandal erupted in 2004 when a group of students were caught cheating with cell phones and working as a network. So serious is the exam that the offending students were handed down suspended sentences in court a few months later.
Test supervisors get special training and during the exam, they are not allowed to cough, chew gum or put on strong perfume that might distract students.
With high levels of youth unemployment and a growing informal employment sector that doesn't bring the same benefits as working for huge South Korean conglomerates that offer a steady job and pension, anxious prayers from parents don't always stop when the exams are finished.
"My son took the CSAT more than a decade ago, I'm here to get him a job" said a mother at Jogyesa Buddhist temple in downtown Seoul, which has held special meetings for anxious parents who have been praying for weeks, if not months.
Adapted from Reuters