The 42nd annual NYC Korean Parade and Festival brought hanbok, taekwondo, K-pop, kimbap and traditional games to 32nd Street, briefly turning one of Manhattan’s busiest neighbourhoods into the happiest block in the city
Autumn Cheer Comes To 32nd Street
MIDTOWN. The 42nd annual NYC Korean Parade and Festival filled Manhattan’s Koreatown on Saturday, October 3, organised by the Korean American Association of Greater New York, according to amNY’s report on the Korean Parade and Festival. Festivities began at 10 a.m. at 32nd Street and Sixth Avenue, with a parade from about noon to 2 p.m. starting near 38th Street and Sixth Avenue. The event came shortly after the Chuseok harvest holiday in late September.
For one glorious Saturday, a corner of Midtown famous for traffic, tourists and office towers became a place where people played traditional games, ate fish-shaped pastries and sang along to BTS, which observers agree is a substantial improvement on its usual weekday activities.
The Menu
Attendees could sample bungeoppang, the fish-shaped pastries filled with sweet red bean, along with kimbap, bulgogi and banchan such as kimchi. For many New Yorkers, the festival offered a chance to discover dishes beyond the barbecue restaurants that line 32nd Street. For others, it confirmed what they had long suspected: that the best lunch in Midtown is any lunch eaten on Korea Way.
A financial analyst who wandered over from his office on Sixth Avenue said he had intended to grab a quick sandwich. Then I saw the bungeoppang, he said. A fish that is a cake. Filled with beans. It made no sense. Then I ate one. Then I ate three. I have not been back to my desk. I have no regrets. My boss is also here. He has eaten five.
Games And Culture
Visitors could try traditional Korean games including yutnori, gonggi, tuho and ddakji, shop for hanbok and watch performances of traditional music and dance, K-pop, taekwondo demonstrations, a children’s choir and a hanbok model contest. Many New Yorkers who had only encountered ddakji, the paper-tile flipping game, through a certain internationally popular television series discovered that the real game involves considerably less danger and considerably more laughing.
A college student from Queens who tried ddakji for the first time said she had expected something more dramatic. I watched the show, she said. I was nervous. Then a nice grandmother taught me how to throw the tile. I lost every game. Nobody was eliminated. She gave me a snack. It was the nicest competition of my life.
The Soundtrack
BTS songs Dynamite and Arirang played along the parade route, prompting enthusiastic singing from fans of all ages. K-pop has become one of South Korea’s most successful cultural exports, and New York has a large and devoted fan community. A middle-aged accountant from New Jersey, who attended with his teenage daughter, admitted that he knew every word of Dynamite. My daughter played it in the car for two years, he said. At first I protested. Then I surrendered. Now I am the one who turns it up.
The Taekwondo Effect
Taekwondo demonstrations drew large crowds, with performers breaking boards, executing spinning kicks and demonstrating discipline that drew admiring gasps from onlookers. Several parents reported that their children immediately demanded taekwondo lessons, joining the many New York kids already enrolled in the martial art at studios across the city. A mother from Brooklyn said her son had practised kicks all the way home on the subway. He nearly kicked a man reading a newspaper, she said. The man said good form. Only in New York.
Koreatown’s Role
Manhattan’s Koreatown, centred on 32nd Street between Fifth and Sixth Avenues, is one of the city’s most vibrant small neighbourhoods, packed with restaurants, karaoke rooms, bakeries, cafes, beauty shops and late-night spots. It is a destination for Korean Americans from across the region, for tourists and for New Yorkers who know where to find excellent food at two in the morning. The parade and festival, now in their fifth decade, celebrate both the neighbourhood and the broader Korean American community in New York.
Chuseok In The City
The festival followed Chuseok, the Korean harvest festival, often described as Korean Thanksgiving, when families traditionally gather, honour ancestors and share food such as songpyeon, half-moon rice cakes. For Korean American families in New York, Chuseok can be a time of both celebration and longing, especially for those whose relatives are far away. The parade offers a public extension of those private celebrations, inviting the whole city to share in the season.
The Parade Route
The parade itself moved down Sixth Avenue toward Koreatown, with marching groups, community organisations, dancers in bright hanbok and drummers whose rhythms bounced off the glass towers of Midtown. Tourists who had come to the area to see the Empire State Building found themselves swept into an entirely different spectacle and, by most accounts, did not mind at all. A couple from Ohio said they had planned to spend the afternoon in a queue for an observation deck. Instead we watched a drum troupe, ate kimbap and learned a card game from a man named Mr. Park, the husband said. The Empire State Building will still be there tomorrow. Mr. Park might not be.
A traffic agent stationed at 34th Street, tasked with holding back cars while the parade passed, said it was the best shift of her month. Usually people honk at me, she said. Today they waved and offered me rice cakes. One man gave me a fan. I would like every Saturday to be a parade. The drivers disagree, but they are not in charge.
The Last Word
By late afternoon, the festival was winding down, the stalls were packing up and 32nd Street was slowly returning to its usual role as one of the busiest blocks in Manhattan. The financial analyst finally headed back toward his office, carrying a paper bag of bungeoppang for colleagues who had missed the event. They will not believe me, he said. A fish that is a cake. With beans. In Midtown. Then he paused at the corner, turned around and went back to buy one more. For the road, he said. Some lunches deserve a sequel.