Changing Lifestyles : Kim’s Seoul of Simplicity : Populism is altering food, sports and fashion in South Korea. ‘Money is sin and poverty is pride’ under Kim Young Sam.

There he was, the new president of the Republic of South Korea, doing nothing more extraordinary than slurping a bowl of noodles on national TV.

But that simple gesture by Kim Young Sam earlier this year rocked the nation like a thunderclap. After three decades of military rule, lavish lifestyles and personal fortunes amassed on public time, the signal was clear: In Kim’s new Korea, wealth and privilege are out. Populism is in.

Kim, a longtime dissident who nearly died from a hunger strike and who was inaugurated in February as the first civilian president since 1961, called for restoring traditional values of thrift and hard work. Those values, he said, had been lost amid what he calls the “Korean Disease”--corruption, luxury and moral laxity--which he blames for everything from crime to the sluggish economy.

So enter noodles; exit steaks. Roh Tae Woo, Kim’s predecessor, used to serve steaks and gourmet Chinese food for lunch, inviting top chefs from the Lotte, Shilla and Walker Hill hotels to whip up meals that ran from $60 to $90 a head.

But one of Kim’s first acts was to change the menu at the presidential quarters, known as the Blue House, to reflect the tastes of common people. Now kalkuksu, a traditional dish of noodles flavored with garlic and other spices, is the favored meal. Average tab: about $6 a head.

The new austerity is not Kim’s alone. Taking a cue from their chief executive, bureaucrats and business elite have drastically scaled back lavish entertainment. Golfers have fled the courses and are taking up tennis or hiking instead. Luxury car dealers, real estate brokers and other peddlers of privilege are struggling to survive as South Koreans hunker down into low-key lifestyles.

“Money is sin and poverty is pride,” said Sohn Jie Ae, a Korean journalist.

If steaks are out, so are kisaeng houses, high-priced entertainment places where the government and business elite would eat, drink and make deals in private rooms attended by beautiful women--sometimes dropping $600 a head. No more. The entertainment expenses of all government agencies and the ruling party have dropped to one-tenth the previous level. Kim figures the national treasury will save $1.8 billion this year.

Still, Hwang Myung Suk, owner of a cheap noodle-and-burger shop called Mom’s Bakery, which is near the government offices, hasn’t yet capitalized on the thrift-is-in mood. Business is down for her as well.

“This street used to be filled with government workers coming out for lunch, but no more,” she said, as she nibbled on pumpkin seeds in her empty restaurant. “The workers have gone too far: They’re all eating in the government cafeteria instead.”

Thanks to the war on wealth, what Koreans regard as the quintessential rich man’s sport, golf, is very much on the outs. Kim has closed down the Blue House golf course and declared that he would not play once during his five-year term. In attempting to open his presidency to the people, he has taken aim at anything smacking of privileged access and back-room deals, and golf is symbolic of both. Also, he was reportedly dismayed that South Korean soldiers assigned to guard the presidential palace were deployed to chase after golf balls.

Also out: luxury imported cars, high-priced villas and, as cultural icons, the children of Korea’s nouveau riche known as the Orange Tribe. Small and medium-sized firms are in, while giant conglomerates, such as Hyundai, are out. Academics are in; retired generals are out.

Tuxedos are out, after Kim abolished them for state dinners. He also nixed presidential suites at the airport and turned exclusive presidential homes in Pusan, Taegu, Kwangju, Chonju and Cheju into libraries and other public places. Roh’s $100,000 annual budget for souvenirs for guests (key chains and umbrellas) has been axed, as have official welcoming ceremonies at the Blue House (airport welcomes have been deemed good enough).

Kim’s populist campaign appears to be more than media hype. Just ask Lee Il Ho, manager of Ojinam, a kisaeng house near the government offices in Seoul. The restaurant, a model of elegance, and class, offers 10 private rooms decorated with Oriental scrolls, Korean porcelain and silk cushions. A lovely Korean garden is enclosed by high stone walls. Average cost per head, including band and tips to the women who literally feed the guests, is $250.

But these days, the restaurant is virtually empty, and Lee says Kim’s campaign is the reason.

“We’ve been told that government agencies have been instructed not to entertain outsiders for more than 30,000 won ($38) per head, so we’ve lost two-thirds of our customers,” Lee said.

The restaurant owner said his monthly revenues are down by half, to $38,000. Guests are down from an average 25 per night to seven or so. When his restaurant’s madam calls the old clients to beg them to come by, they typically tell her: “What’s the matter with you? Don’t you read the newspapers?”

Still, Lee says he can wait it out and may even benefit in the end if other kisaeng houses go broke, leaving fewer to divide the spoils. And he said he completely supports Kim’s drive to restore the integrity of public service.

“Although my business is slow, there’s a greater justice being done,” he said.

Kim Dong Kyu pretty much feels the same way. He is also on the outs, as the owner of a golf-equipment store in Seoul. But he calls his business slump a “temporary phenomenon” and says his 30% drop in revenues still leaves him comfortably above his break-even point.

“Too many public officials were playing golf during the week, anyway,” Kim said. “If this time is used productively for work instead, it will be good for Korea.”

Kim says golf has long suffered from the image of being a rich man’s sport, since it costs an average $127 for one outing--the equivalent of two days’ pay for the average household. And a golf membership at the nation’s most prestigious course, the Seoul Country Club, cost $209,000 during its peak in 1989, or nearly 10 times the average annual household income.

But the value of many memberships has dropped since Kim signaled golf was politically incorrect. That Seoul Country Club membership, for example, dropped to $172,000 just before Kim was inaugurated, and it has come down nearly $20,000 more since. Several courses report decreases of as much as 42% in the number of golfers.

A government official, who asked not to be identified, is one of those ex-golfers. He used to play every week while stationed overseas but cut that back to once a month after returning to Seoul because of the higher cost. Now, he doesn’t play at all.

“The instructions to civil servants have not been direct, but we’re afraid if we play golf we’ll be punished,” he said, citing fears of being passed over for promotions or transferred to undesirable locations. “Instead, I play tennis.”

Indeed, local tennis courts report more crowds, and sporting goods stores say sales of climbing gear have picked up. The surge of interest in hiking was partly fueled by Kim’s decision to grant access to the Inwang Mountains near the presidential palace, which had been off-limits to the public for 25 years for security reasons. Kim also opened the streets in front of the palace.

“Privileged people may have seen this area all the time, but people like myself could never dream to see it firsthand,” said Nam Sun Hee, 38, from the Cholla region in southwestern Korea. “I am very glad that common people can freely come here now.”

The campaign against privilege has even hit the trendy Kangnam area of Seoul, former stomping grounds for the so-called Orange Tribe. Notorious for their fast cars, designer clothes, drug use and casual sex--members proferred oranges as sexual invitations--these privileged youth have been run out of Kangnam with crackdowns on drugs and a ban on traffic along the main drag known as Rodeo Alley.

Luxury car dealers are on the skids. Kolon International in Seoul, local agent for BMW cars, says sales have dropped by half this year; it is now selling only about four cars a month. Dealers say this crackdown is worse than past campaigns against luxury imports.

“Customers are afraid if they buy a luxury item, they’ll be investigated by the customs office or government,” said a Kolon dealer, who asked not to be identified. “Although there were similar fears one or two years ago, the government’s investigatory strength seems stronger now, so customers are more afraid.”

Top fashion houses and furniture stores have also seen slumps in business, while owners of second apartments have been trying to sell them at rock-bottom prices.

“It’s a great time for buyers at the moment,” one real estate agent in Itaewon told reporters. “The problem is that no one is brave enough to buy.”

Chi Jungnam, The Times’ researcher in Seoul, contributed to this report.

The New Austerity

What to eat, how to play and who to be in Kim Young Sam’s South Korea: IN: Noodles; Typical meal: $6 OUT: Steak; Typical meal: $60 *IN: Tennis; Cheap daily fees OUT: Golf; $209,000 membership (Seoul Country Club 1989) *IN: Academics; Knowledge is power OUT: Retired generals; Military is out of power