South Koreans became hooked on plastic so dizzyingly fast that by 2003 they owned on average four credit cards each and their collective debts amounted to about $100 billion.<\/p>\n
The cards had an additional allure as a status symbol, because previously in South Korea only the elite had them. \u201cWhen I used credit cards, I somehow felt that others regarded me highly and that gave me confidence \u201d\u201d and I forgot that I needed to pay it all back later,\u201d\u009d said Kang Hee-yun, an office worker in her mid-40s, who eventually had to resort to \u201ccard kiting,\u201d\u009d the trick of using one card to repay the debt on another.<\/p>\n
The bill soon came due for many South Koreans. In 2003, a 34-year-old housewife harassed by creditors leapt to her death from her high-rise apartment after pushing out her three children. Families unraveled as their breadwinners lost their savings. A sudden surge in crime and prostitution led South Koreans to bemoan their \u201cbankrupted society.\u201d\u009d Finally, after millions had defaulted on payments, the government stepped in to help bail out LG Card, then the country\u2019s largest issuer.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe excess was similar to what\u2019s happening with the American housing market today,\u201d\u009d recalled Song Ji-hoon, a Rolex-wearing lawyer in his mid-30s who worked on behalf of one of the credit card companies. \u201cKoreans wanted fancy cars, bigger TVs \u201d\u201d although there was no real money to buy them \u201d\u201d much the way those Americans thought that they could own houses with nothing but loans. Of course, in both instances, banks got greedy extending credits and mortgages to people who couldn\u2019t pay back.\u201d\u009d<\/p>\n