I haven't written anything in a while, either online or in my journal. So I can't really cover everything that's gone down. But I should try.
My dream of doing an in depth study of the
Sabuk uprising, in video or written form, may have to be a dream deferred. I was really excited about it for a while, after I and my Korean school friend met a local artist and a member of the historical society. I was looking forward to staying another year in Sabuk, learning even more. But that was back in September, before I learned the following:
Gangwondo is cutting positions, including mine, and apparently I don't have the greatest standing at my school. I don't know why. So instead of trying to transfer somewhere in the province, I'm changing once again. There's a distinct possibility of moving to Jeollanam province - home of the
green tea fields,
the Yeosu Expo, bamboo,
Mokpo friends,
Jirisan National Park, at least two beautiful ancient temples and of course
Gwangju. Besides Jeju, where I'm not quite ready to move, Jeollanam is the most beautiful and positive energy giving place I've yet seen in Korea. Of course, I haven't seen the entire mid to southwestern section so who knows what else could be waiting for me? In any case, Jeollanam could be the new frontier come April 2013 and I'm happy to set my sights there.
Winter basically began here at the end of October. The leaves are still lovely shades of red, orange, yellow in many parts, but the cold is biting in the morning and at night, after the sun sets at around 5:30 p.m. That's another reason I want to get out - sure, the ski resort is great and all, but I like to be outside just for the hell of it, no ridiculous gear, nothing fancy. It's getting harsher than 5 Boston winters in these parts nowadays.
After summer vacation on Jeju, the second semester started out strong. My conversation class is going well and I'm making a horror comedy movie with six students, which is pretty fun and rewarding. Yet, I'm tired of the incredible amounts of deskwarming - sitting by myself in my classroom after planning all my lessons. It's gotten to the point where I have trouble looking forward to the 5-day week. I quit Taekwando because I couldn't deal with the environment so there is really nothing much going on most nights, which means I take the initiative to read, go to the gym, cook and anything else associated with winter hibernation. It's good practice, except I hope my future doesn't hold me living alone for many years to come.
The constant weekend travelling is wearing me down, but I need it to make up for the relative isolation of the weekdays. Two days out of seven is just no longer enough to cover my restlessness, my thirst for adventure, working with my hands and connecting with community instead of idling away on the computer. Here are the enjoyable adventures and their aftereffects:
August 25-26 Guinsa Templestay
Buddhist templestays for tourists, expats and some Koreans are a big thing here. One of the youngest, but biggest temples in the country is
Guinsa, near
Danyang, headquarters of the Cheontae order of Buddhism. My Japanese WWOOF friend, who left Korea soon after, and my South African Wonju friend and her coteacher spontaneously chose this unusually hot, sticky weekend for our first experience. Guinsa really stands out because the monks and laypeople often pray from 10 p.m. - 3 a.m. I would get a taste of that one month later, but for now that was our sleep time and the rest was made up of walking, bowing, making lanterns, eating and taking tea with the proud, confident English-speaking female monk.
Japanese lady was really feeling the strain of Seoul and she seemed grateful for this retreat. After nearing the edge of self-destruction the previous weekend myself, I was also more than happy to revive myself again. We looked at the stars from the balcony way up high on the hill and we realized we felt close to the stars because we are made from them. At 3 a.m. we took a hike up to light candles in a special morning ceremony and saw the magnificent sunrise above the mountains in the valley below. After leaving Guinsa, we drove down the lovely winding road to Danyang, full of greenery. We walked and took tea in Danyang, a truly beautiful little city that I would revisit again. We said goodbye as she boarded the bus back to Seoul and I knew that we would meet again, but that life in Korea would be that much less fun with one less person to share experiences. No matter, I make my own fun nonetheless.
September 1-2 Seoul Hardcore
The end of summer brought a huge typhoon and all of Korea got hit in one way or another. There was supposed to be a reggae festival an hour from my town, but it got rained out. The other teacher in Sabuk was going back home to San Francisco and for the first time and his last weekend in Korea, we hung out in Seoul. Not only that, but we were in a totally new part of Seoul -
Mullae Arts Village, south of the Han River on the Hongdae side, with a winding alley maze of industrial and craft warehouses. And in a basement we joined Korean and foreign punks for a short but lively hardcore show. It was just like being back in an alternative scene in the city, with bikes and basements and cigarettes and beer and warm summer nights. A slice of another life, hardly ever happens nowadays.
I ended up in Mullae because a Korean girl from Couchsurfing invited me to meet her and her travelling Swedish mate. It was nice to be back among anarchists, travellers, musicians. The Swedish guy with a blonde mustache proceeded to get drunker and drunker as our night moved to the familiar outdoor Hongdae club and sitting on a wall outside. I didn't want this partying until 4 a.m. thing again, because I was hardly even partying, but it was nice anyway. I made a new friend.
Amazingly, on Sunday morning I rallied for helping out at Hansol Farm again. Tired and slightly hung over, it was still a beautiful sunny day and a nice quiet train ride out east to Namyangju. The typhoon had hit the chicken houses hard and they needed hands to build them up again. I love this place and have now been there four times. Just being there brings me hope.
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| Enjoying a swim in the Hansol River. Photo by Kota Fukuyama, WWOOF Korea. |
September 8-9 Korea Burn
Reluctant to miss another Group WWOOF weekend, I nevertheless decided to brave a post-typhoon rain to go camp in the trees by beautiful
Gijipo Beach on the western Chungcheonnamdo coast. Luckily, it didn't rain for the rest of the weekend. It was the first time I had seen a really natural beach in Korea, the water was still warm enough for swimming and it felt like summer wasn't ending yet. With little to no drugs, plenty of booze, body paint, costumes, DIY tents, mostly crappy DJ music and a not-so-successful burning of the wooden men, hundreds of almost all foreigners proceeded to fuck up the beach for a couple days. Though by the next morning, we had done a decent job of getting our surroundings back into place, I'm sure the passing Korean couples and families were pretty taken aback by the half nudity and other debauchery. I'm also sure that Korea Burning Man is mild compared to any others anywhere else in the world.
New Korean friend and Swedish travelling man were back in action, enjoying what seemed to be their last weekend before he headed off to New Zealand. We took walks, enjoyed the beautiful sunset, cooking on the camping stove, dancing, discussing. But I wasn't camping with them - I joined with lady English teachers, all of whom were nice company and it was an overall good time. I wish there were more Koreans and I wish the feeling of "being on holiday" as English lady said could last longer. As at
Jisan, it was crazy to see all the different expats, this small fraction of an already small non-Korean village spread out all over the country. Some people have tattoos all up and down their body, which they have to keep covered up during the day. In Korea, I somehow have this strong sense that if you're not actively out to meet Koreans, you can hardly choose your friends. You have to find the best of what you can in the people around you because our village is not infinite. That's why I prefer to dip into the larger pool around our village, but I can't say I've been entirely successful in that.
September 15-16 Namyangju Slow Food Conference
Slow Food Korea and WWOOF Korea are connected, both working to promote fresh local food and Korea's organic and natural farming traditions. They work to connect with people from all over Asia and around the world. I got up hellishly early on a Saturday morning to catch a bus out to Seoul and then to volunteer at the conference, but once I was there, I enjoyed it. I met a lot of Korean university students, older volunteers and I learned about the
Korean Beautiful Store, which sells cheap used clothes and other goodies. A nice find. We had a beautiful dinner, stayed at a lovely house rented by elderly residents with their own gardens and enjoyed the beautiful surroundings of Namyangju, the organic farming center of Korea and maybe Asia. Of course, I had to leave far too early on Sunday because I live out in the non-farming sticks. But just before leaving, I bumped into the Hansol farmers, making it all worthwhile.
The thing about it is, as I've discussed with the WWOOF manager, Korea is very much about showing the best side of itself and that means huge museums, theme parks and fancy expos, even when it comes to something as supposedly pure and natural as working the land. Money rules everything here and nowadays people have to fight for the alternative to the money economy. As the crisis hasn't yet hit Korea - at least not on the same level as elsewhere in the world - many people aren't necessarily interested in seeking out free resources and mutual aid. As this is somewhat built into the culture itself, it definitely hasn't disappeared and in fact exists on a deeper level than in Western society. But despite all Korea's work to promote its culture on a large scale, it seems to accomplish this through sleekness and attempts to hide anything that is a bit messy, the reality of everyday life. Marching forward into the future, stamping out relics from the past, while still proudly upholding thousands of years of culture. An interesting contradiction, I think.
September 22-23 Hwaeomsa Temple, Gucheon Hermitage Tea Planting
An absolutely gorgeous sunny late summer weekend. I slept at
Siloam, a really nice jimjilbang near Seoul Station, the biggest transport hub in the city. They have separate dark sleeping bunks - always nice to find one of those. It comes to my attention that I've only tried the nicest jimjilbangs, the ones in Seoul, and so may have a positively skewed idea of what these places are like. They've definitely become a routine fixture on my travelling route though.
Back to Jeollanam, back to Group WWOOFing. Early on Saturday, four of us, including a US lady soldier at Yongsan base, took what seemed an interminable train down to
Gurye, an incredibly beautiful place and home of
Hwaeomsa, surely one of the oldest and most lovely temples in Korea. I unfortunately have had ridiculous phone and camera troubles, so I didn't snap any shots. But not to worry, if I live in Jeolla next year, I'll be sure to visit this place again and again! It's really amazing that they chose to be a WWOOF host because it means that people can have two experiences in one. When we finally arrived, after waiting at the train station and a car ride down a beautiful tree-lined road to the gates of the temple, we were met with an atmosphere of near complete tranquility and natural splendor. I say near tranquility because we were in for a surprise - the temple adopted a little boy, 7 or 8 years old, the most outgoing and enthusiastic child I have ever met in Korea. So he lives there, among the monks, but attends a regular school and has regular kid things like video games. But his life seems like it will be so fulfilling, despite an occasional sadness at the lack of actual parents. His makeshift family is extensive and loving.
We were also met with the other WWOOFers who had arrived the day before, wishing we could have come earlier! They had spent the day picking wild mushrooms (!) and now we were preparing for lunch and picking tea seeds for the next day's planting. We put on some pouches and like kangaroos with big straw hats went after the tea plants on the hill. Now that I write this, I should have asked more questions about seed saving. Need to get back on that mission soon! But regardless, we had an incredible view from our perch in the tea field and our time passed quickly. That night, we drove to another incredible temple actually carved into the side of a rock and we caught a nightime view of the entire Gurye valley. We took a long, luxurious tea with the male and female monk and talked of Buddhism and our different lives. I felt uncomfortable when it got to sitting up straight and meditating and discussing our bodies and being touched, but that didn't dampen my mood.
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| Picking tea seeds. Photo by Shirley Lin |
Sunday, we rose early and watched the sun rise fully into its golden glow as we took tea with the monks for the second time. It was planting day and armed with nothing but round green seeds and basic tools, we covered the perimeter of the gardens and up and down the steps. I don't know exactly how long it will take for the white tea plants to bloom, but I want to be there to see the change, the displacement of the artificial fences in favor of these natural ones.
Our last stop was the Gurye open-air market. Jeolla has such a different vibe from Gangwon, it's hard to put a finger on it. The people are tanner, the market is livelier, the seafood and fruit are more plentiful. The poor little boy, so happy to sing and dance Gangnam Style with us before was left behind after a trip to the bathroom. As we sauntered happily through the market, he sat lonely and crying in the parking lot. He was angry, but a lollipop seemed to cheer him up. I wish I had been more adamant about staying longer, as I ended up taking a late bus back from Seoul anyway, but lady soldier and I missed another incredible trip somewhere as we took an earlier bus back. Yeah, I can't wait to go back there...I was meaning to go during Chuseok but decided to keep my promise to return to Guinsa instead.
I had a quiet dinner by myself for my second visit at the 빙가게
"Empty House" cafe, a place that was listed in Slingshot as a radical space in Korea. It's funny how gung-ho I was in the beginning to find this or other spaces, but WWOOF and Jeju - farming and nature - have turned out to be the most subversive things I've done, if you can call them that. It's fitting. It is.
For the first time off since summer that was longer than 2 days, I managed to go overboard and outdo myself with activity. Chuseok is prime family time for Koreans so of course the roads are absolutely packed, mostly with traffic in and out of Seoul.
Besides a one-night, one day farmstay back at Guinsa, I didn't have many plans so I was bursting to get in something super cool, fun, interesting, exciting rarara. On Saturday, I ended up training it all the way to Gangneung to cycle and meet the Korean friend for the third time. She turned out to come late - due to the aforementioned traffic situation - and we ended up not watching the art cinema movie we had planned. I did manage to finally find the
Gangneung Cinematheque, thanks to another impromptu find, the new Fair Trade Coffee place tucked in an alleyway a block over from an open market. I practiced my paltry Korean with the store owner, a member of the cinematheque, and after getting lost I went back there and he walked me to the place, which is on the 4th floor of a building on the main street of the city, around Home Plus and all that. Finally, I met my friend as her bus arrived at the terminal and we went back to Fair Trade Coffee - yes, for a third time that day - but soon I was leaving Gangneung...on the empty evening express bus to Seoul.
WWOOF friends had planned an all-day Sunday hike to the top of
Bukhansan for a birthday. Even though this invite came last minute on Friday night and even though it meant a ridiculous Saturday, I went for it anyway. Glad I did. We couldn't believe there was a huge rocky mountain range in northwest Seoul, right in the city, but there it was, and it rises up just minutes walk from the Dokbawi station, past some gardens. As we climbed higher and higher, it was nothing but rock! The view of Seoul got smaller and more expansive and we napped on a big ledge. Makkeoli and kimbap were had and eventually we found an impromptu ajeosshi who showed us places where North Koreans tried to get through to assassinate former president Park Chung-hee. The sun was setting as we made our way down. It was a tiring hike to be sure, but seriously rewarding. It's funny that you mostly see middle-aged and elderly Korean hikers on the mountains - I guess the younger generation prefers computer games. Bummer. Back on lower ground, we enjoyed a birthday dinner and drinks at the
WWOOF Korea Guesthouse with a visiting Japanese friend before heading off to our respective sleeping places - me and the birthday guy, a longterm WWOOFer checked out the closest jimjilbang. Its name escapes me but it's not a far taxi ride from Anguk Station and it's relatively clean and fancy.
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| View of Seoul from Bukhansan. Photo by Ryoko Okazaki |
It was my first time to stay at a jimjilbang with someone else, but the next morning, he was already back on the road to the farm so I packed up and stepped out into the Monday post-Chuseok sunshine, myself back on the road - 3.5 hours to Guinsa. At least it was supposed to be 3.5 hours, it must have been a bit longer given the crazy traffic. It was hot and sticky on the bus and I was almost regretting my decision. But once we got up to the temple, it was late afternoon and the temperature was much cooler from a month before. I was glad to be there. In retrospect though, I wish I hadn't gone alone. I was walking around by myself before dinner and evening prayer, of course the only non-Korean in sight and people were commenting and pointing at me. It was OK but I was more self-conscious than usual and already not rested enough for the long night that lay ahead. Dinner with the monks in the smaller cafeteria was very nice and I should have been more friendly. I was feeling overwhelmed already and not wanting all the attention.
Two of the female monks had me over for coffee, followed by an hour-long chanting with the head monk in a large public hall, with men and women. It was the only time throughout the night that I managed a full hour of Kwan Seum Bosal (meaning the Buddha) chanting. I really love the more varied chants, such as this one:
Kwan Seum Bosal Buddhist Chanting but from every part of the Guinsa complex, at any given time you hear the rising "Kwan Seum Bosal" repeated litany coming from inside the prayer halls. From the outside, it's actually very beautiful and haunting. Inside the women's hall, where we rested and chanted together, you can hear the cacophony of female voices, old and young, making the Kwan Seum Bosal nearly lost in the sound. For the laypeople people here, this is undoubtedly a peaceful respite from daily life, but for me as a first-timer to the intensive chanting, it was difficult to find peace. From 10 to midnight, a female monk gave a full 2 hour speech on the Chuseok holiday. Many of us dozed off during this time, only to begin the chanting again nonstop from 12-3. This was a totally unique experience for me and one that is hard to find anywhere else. I was appreciative of the women who took the time to help me and I felt welcomed.
The next morning, I had to rush to get breakfast and join female monks for the ride to the farm. Arriving at the meeting spot and on the bus, I again felt overwhelmed by the attention but also charmed by the beauty of these awesome hard-working women. As I would soon see with my own eyes, Guinsa grows all its own food - rice, soybeans, garlic, peppers, cabbage, everything. Some female monks at a lower level work in the immense public cafeteria and some work daily on the farm. It was a bright, clear Tuesday and we peeled bunches of garlic all day from 7 - 4:30, with lunch and snack breaks. Surrounded by green mountains and field, I watched and interacted with these strong, joyous, chatty women as we sat in the sun, our hands meticulously breaking apart garlic heads and carefully taking off the skin. We were also joined by additional busloads of volunteers, with a few men in the midst, making our group total 30-40 people. If I wasn't so tired, so introverted, with so little Korean skills and a better sense of humor, I would have enjoyed it a lot more. Which is not to say that it wasn't, in fact, amazing. But I was surprised to find that even at a Buddhist temple, a supposed sanctuary from society, people still asked me why I was single? And since I didn't have a husband, maybe I was interested in becoming a monk? All I wanted was to get a glimpse of this life, not to become a part of anything. Of course, even though one person spoke English, I had no one there to translate the cultural barrier. At one point in the afternoon, I got frustrated that I couldn't get the garlic right and the smiling oldest monk called the English-speaking templestay leader to tell her I wasn't having fun. I felt embarassed - this always-smiling woman seems so truly happy and grateful to be where she is, and I'm interrupting her routine.
As with EM Jeju, I went to Guinsa by myself, hoping to get my hands dirty in the best of local food production and to learn more than I've ever had. I think I accomplished these two things, but in the process, I feel that maybe I wasn't a very good ambassador. I often forget this - I am not here just as myself, I represent my language, my nationality, my skin color, my perceived social, economic and cultural background. Using my introversion as an excuse to be closed-off and grumpy just will not cut it in Korea in the long run. It's time I shape up. And it's time that either I take friends along to places like this, or I adjust my solitary travels to keep my mental health in working order.
This is the end of part one of the post-Jeju adventures. Part two will come by the end of 2012.
