It takes a village: What a remote Korean island taught me about community

Karel Kym visited Gwansa Island off Korea’s southwestern coast during Chuseok and reflected on how generations of residents have sustained its remote village. With about 30 residents and no grocery or convenience stores, the island depends on collective effort amid geographic isolation and scarce resources. Kym says the community’s persistence also raises questions about the future of rural and island communities as younger people move to major cities. She sees the village as a place where a small community helps protect Korea’s cultural heritage.

Gwansa Island has a population of approximately 30 residents.

Kym documented parts of the island in short videos on social media, but said a camera could not fully convey the generations of work and sacrifice behind life there.

The ancestors of current residents built homes and paths and found ways to survive in an environment where resources were scarce and the mainland was far away.

Karel Kym is a master’s student in International Peace and Security at Korea University and a recipient of the Global Korea Scholarship.

Kym is from Quebec City and founded Québec2Korea, a project exploring and sharing people-to-people connections between Quebec and Korea.

Published Oct 26, 2026 12:20 pm KST

Gwansa Island sits near Jindo, North Jeolla Province. Courtesy of the writer

There’s an undeniable contrast between Korea’s national development and the quieter achievement of sustaining a remote village.

During Chuseok, I had the opportunity to visit Gwansa Island, a tiny island off the southwestern coast. With a population of approximately 30 residents, the island is far removed from the fast-paced lifestyle that so often defines modern Korea.

There are no grocery stores and no convenience stores. Instead, there is the sea, the mountains, a handful of homes and a community whose history stretches back generations.

What struck me most was not how little the island had, but how much its people had built.

As someone from Quebec, Canada, I have often been fascinated by Korea’s extraordinary development — the famed "Miracle on the Han River." Technology and economic transformation turned Korea into a global powerhouse.

However, on Gwansa Island, I discovered another side of the Korean miracle that is quieter, less visible and just as remarkable.

There is an old saying: “It takes a village to raise a child.” But what happens when the village itself needs to be raised, protected and kept alive?

The village did not simply appear. It was built, maintained and passed down from one generation to another.

I documented parts of it through short videos on social media, hoping to introduce this lesser-known side of Korea to others. I quickly realized that a camera could capture the island’s landscapes but not fully convey the generations of work and sacrifice that made life there possible.

It is the miracle of people who — despite geographic isolation and limited resources — have managed to sustain a community through generations of collective effort. The ancestors of today’s residents had to establish their own way of life by building homes, creating paths and finding ways to survive in an environment where almost nothing came easily.

Since resources are scarce and the mainland is far away, neighbors are more than simply people living next door. They are part of the same story, sharing the responsibility of keeping their home alive.

Gwansa Island also raises an important question about the future of rural and island communities in Korea. As younger generations increasingly move to major cities, what will happen to places whose existence depends on a small and aging population?

Gwansa Island reminded me that a village’s true wealth can also be found in the determination of those who refuse to let it disappear.

It takes a village to raise a child. But sometimes, it takes generations of people to raise a village.

On a small remote island in Korea, I was reminded that a tiny but strong community can protect a nation’s cultural heritage.

Karel Kym is a master’s student in International Peace and Security at Korea University and a recipient of the Global Korea Scholarship. Originally from Quebec City, she is also the founder of Québec2Korea, a project dedicated to exploring and sharing the people-to-people connections between Quebec and Korea.

卡雷尔·金在韩国中秋节期间造访了位于西南海岸的宽沙岛，并思考了世世代代的居民是如何维系这个偏远村庄的。岛上约有30位居民，没有杂货店或便利店，在地理位置偏远、资源匮乏的情况下，村民们只能依靠集体的力量维持生计。金表示，随着年轻人涌向大城市，村民们的坚韧不拔也引发了人们对农村和岛屿社区未来的思考。她认为，这个村庄是一个小型社区守护韩国文化遗产的典范。

格万萨岛约有30位居民。

Kym在社交媒体上用短视频记录了岛上的部分景象，但他表示，摄像机无法完全展现岛上几代人的生活和牺牲。

现在居民的祖先建造房屋和道路，并在资源匮乏、远离大陆的环境中找到了生存之道。

Karel Kym 是韩国大学国际和平与安全专业的硕士研究生，也是全球韩国奖学金的获得者。

Kym 来自魁北克市，创立了 Québec2Korea 项目，旨在探索和分享魁北克和韩国之间的人文交流。

发布于2026年10月26日下午12:20（韩国标准时间）

冠沙岛位于全罗北道珍岛附近。图片由作者提供。

韩国的国家发展与默默维持偏远村庄的生存之间有着不可否认的对比。

中秋节期间，我有机会去了冠沙岛，这是一座位于韩国西南海岸附近的小岛。岛上大约只有30位居民，与现代韩国快节奏的生活方式截然不同。

这里没有杂货店，也没有便利店。取而代之的是大海、群山、寥寥几户人家，以及一个历史悠久的社区。

最让我印象深刻的不是岛上资源匮乏，而是岛上的人民创造了多少东西。

作为一名来自加拿大魁北克的人，我一直对韩国非凡的发展——著名的“汉江奇迹”——感到着迷。科技和经济转型使韩国成为全球强国。

然而，在冠沙岛上，我发现了韩国奇迹的另一面，它更安静、更不为人知，但也同样令人惊叹。

有句老话说：“养育一个孩子需要全村之力。”但是，当村庄本身需要被养育、保护和延续时，又会发生什么呢？

这个村庄并非凭空出现，而是经过一代又一代人的建造、维护和传承才形成的。

我通过社交媒体上的短视频记录了部分经历，希望能向他人介绍韩国鲜为人知的一面。但我很快意识到，相机可以捕捉岛上的风景，却无法完全展现世世代代人们为了维持岛上的生活所付出的辛勤劳动和牺牲。

这是一个奇迹，这些人尽管地处偏远、资源匮乏，却通过世代的共同努力，成功地维系着社区。如今居民的祖先们必须白手起家，建造房屋，开辟道路，在几乎一切都来之不易的环境中摸索生存之道，建立起自己的生活方式。

由于资源匮乏，且与大陆遥远，邻里之间不仅仅是住在隔壁的人。他们是同一个故事的一部分，共同承担着守护家园的责任。

冠沙岛也引出了一个关于韩国农村和岛屿社区未来发展的重要问题。随着年轻一代越来越多地迁往大城市，那些依赖人口稀少且老龄化的地区将会如何发展？

格万萨岛让我意识到，一个村庄真正的财富也体现在那些不愿让它消失的人们的决心上。

俗话说，养育一个孩子需要全村之力。但有时，建立一个村庄却需要几代人的共同努力。

在韩国一个偏远的小岛上，我意识到，一个虽小但强大的社区可以保护一个国家的文化遗产。

Karel Kym是韩国高丽大学国际和平与安全专业的硕士研究生，也是全球韩国奖学金的获得者。她来自魁北克市，同时也是Québec2Korea项目的创始人，该项目致力于探索和分享魁北克和韩国之间的人文交流。