Changing Yeontan
An unwritten blog got stuck in my head long ago — like a catchy tune that begs to be sung but never fits the moment. It’s about a time-tested heating system: yeontan. While it’s still winter, I wanted to write about the way many Koreans in rural areas heat their homes. Yeontan is coal. Of course, I wish that coal-burning could be eradicated for love of the environment and future generations, but for the residents of my town in their small houses, heating with yeontan probably equals the carbon monoxide emissions of their car-owning, apartment-dwelling urban counterparts.
I don’t know when I first became aware of yeontan. Maybe when walking past frozen farm fields dotted with what looked like light brown cement cylinders. Or when I got a closer look at the same strange cylinders with concentric rings of holes drilled through, discarded and piled in large bins here and there around town. On occasion, I would see a small bongo truck — macho American pickups would take up too much space in Korea — stopping to deliver new yeontan.
One day I got a chance to watch the yeontan-changing process in the boiler room of our community’s rented workshop. It was better than changing guards at Buckingham Palace! I was fascinated. Next time, with the help of a friend, I took a turn. Tools are simple: a hook to lift the lid and long-handled tongs to grasp the yeontan. The boiler has two large cylindrical spaces fitted with double lids. Using only one side provides sufficient heat for our purposes. Three yeontans stack on top of each other inside. We have the boiler’s air-valve adjusted to keep the yeontan burning slowly, providing in-floor heating and hot water. Once or twice a day — frequency depends on air valve setting — we remove the bottom cylinder, which by that time has changed from black to brown and lost several pounds in weight.
Often the yeontan is still diligently glowing — easily hot enough to fry a dozen eggs and a pot of ramen noodles over. (Carbon monoxide scares me from ever trying.) A new yeontan goes on top of the partially burnt two. Placing the yeontan requires a bit of precision: aligning the holes of the three yeontan cylinders allows the heat and air to slowly ignite the new yeontan. Like a cow that needs to be milked, the yeontan needs to be changed. If forgotten, a more porous, disc-shaped starter-yeontan can be torched into flame and placed under the new yeontan. With a fully open air-valve, the yeontan will re-ignite. . . hopefully.
Although I’ve just moved two hours west of Cheoram, I still intend to describe and share images of the coal-mining town in a future blog. Enjoy the following yeontan depictions as a carbon monoxide-free preview:
