well, there are so many things, really, but let's start with this:
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Part two of our story begins
At the bottom of the first of two very steep, very rocky ascents to our final destination – the Sochongbong Mountain Hut, where we had planned to sleep for the night. At this point it was about 4:00 pm, and we have been hiking since about 7:30 am with some breaks here and there. Jim made us stop for a (much needed) break complete with bunny ears. (You see, jim has these great bunny ears that he brought with us on this trip. They are featured in *many* photos of the trip. They lent a certain comic relief to the whole ordeal, for sure. And I thank him for that. God knows I needed comic relief.)
Anyhow, the bunny ear photo shoot ended, and we headed up the trail via a shortcut jim had discovered while being a monkey in bunny ears, jumping from rock to rock up the river. We met
some hikers who were coming down. They said we had a ways to go to reach the temple that was the halfway point to our hut. It would take us about a half hour to get there. You will recall the young monk who told us it would take 2 hours to what we found the next morning was actually a 10 minute walk up a lovely path. You see, there are many liars on Seorak-san. Sure, they disguise themselves as highly enlightened minds, what with their robes and prayer beads and bowing and all, or as weathered, experienced hikers of the expert degree, but make no mistake – they are liars! Still, the thought of just a 30 minute walk was heartening, gave me hope, made me want to sing out loud, really. Until I saw the walk. Right. Switch back, narrow, straight up. Rocks. Nothing but rocks. I just kept thinking, damn. These monks have been hoofin’ it up and down this mountain with nothing but small sandals for centuries. I can *do* this. But of course, they usually don’t hike with a 40 pound back on their back.
[An aside: but I also recalled the number of men we had encountered on the trail who were carrying a variety of construction supplies on makeshift metal frame packs on their back – generators, fuel, tools, etc. you see, a horrible flood has destroyed probably 85% of the bridges and stairs along the river trails in the park. There were orange metal bridge and stair parts everywhere along the river trail. Massive structures that had been snapped and snarled by the force of the water and falling rocks. So there were a ton of construction crews on the mountain repairing the trail, and replacing the metal with new wooden bridges and stairs. With the construction came the need for lots of supplies to be delivered and removed from the mountain. So we saw huge airlift packages at different points on the trail. And we spotted lots of helicopters flying around making the deliveries. It was a trip to see that much work being done at that altitude. I was talking to my folks about this, and they mentioned that on a recent trip to Telluride, they saw the same thing on the top of the mountain there – but that construction is of the luxury condo and hotel variety. Very disturbing phenomenon of the destruction of peaceful wilderness for the erection of high end boutiques restaurants and enormous homes at Mountain Village. There’s a great film that was made about it – a parody and media advocacy piece called “The Lost People of Mountain Village.” But I digress. Basically, if dudes can carry generators on their back, I can make this ascent, I thought to myself.]
And we did. 45 minutes later, we finally got to the temple – Bongjeongam. and it was incredible. It was nestled in high, misty peaks. Tons of people walking everywhere. Lots of construction, which, like the trails, seemed to be the case for all of the temples on the mountain. Buildings at
lots of different points on the peak. We headed straight for the very cold, much needed water fountain. After dropping our packs, we headed up the stairs (I KNOW, more stairs), to see the pagoda at the top which contains a relic of the original Buddha brought back from China by the monk who established the monastery in 643. the view was unlike any other I’ve ever encountered. Misty Asian mountain tops. Truly majestic. And in the distance we saw a small cabin on the face of the peak next to us. Could that be our hut? No, it’s too high. It’s too far. No, the monk later told us, that’s it. But don’t worry, he said. It will only take you 20 minutes to get there. Famous last words. And we already know we can’t trust the monks. Why? Because they are liars! (I mean no disrespect to the wonderful monks. I am making, how you say? A joke!)
I said out loud, “Now, that’s just a lie.” And of course, it was. This trail was all rocks, steeper than the last uphill trail – there were ropes to help us up, and seemed truly never ending. For most of the hike, I had a fear of falling backwards down the mountain, pulled over by the weight of my pack. A couple of times I had some close brushes with being knocked down. But I had made it safely up. Then I had to use a rope. Man, a rope. So I grab hold. I’m exhausted. My legs have had it. I’ve had it. And this kid behind me grabs the rope at the same time. Which throws me off balance and does, in fact, knock me over. Not off the mountain thankfully. But it gives me enough of a scare to jolt me into a crying spell. So, there I am, suddenly surrounded by Korean hikers, crying on a rock while Jim berates the kid and puts his arm around me. We continue on our way. And since I opened the flood gates, it sure wouldn’t stop. So, in between positive
motivational mantras, I just cried. For most of the rest of the way up. Woohoo! Mountain climbing is fun! Jim hiked ahead of me, and suddenly I hear a whoop and a holler and an “Oh my god!” I pulled myself together, walked as fast as I could, and in a daze, emerged into a clearing with beautiful wildflowers and a dozen faces staring at me as I made it up the last set of stairs to the hut. I turned around, and the view before me made me cry even harder. It was the most breathtaking, surreal, mythical view I had ever seen. We were at about 6500 feet at that point, looking out onto the eastern stretch of the park, with nothing but peaks that seemed to float in the sea of mist and clouds that engulfed the lower portions of the mountain in the distance. It was 6:30 pm. We had arrived. 12 km. 1500 meter ascent. And we had been greeted by the most amazing payoff I could have hoped for.
We were led to our little sleeping hut (a small room with a 6 foot ceiling) where 15 or so of us would pack in like little sardine Korean hikers to “sleep” for the night. We dropped our packs, got out our dinner gear and sat outside at a picnic table to take in the view and watch the sunset. I iced my knees with a strange “Magic Chilly Pack” obtained from a science project at school that involved smashing the bag with your fist to feel the cold created through a chemical reaction. They worked for about 2 minutes. But I look really hot with them strapped to my knees…(PICTURE HERE)
We met some very lovely people, ate some ramen, and generally just decompressed. Then it was lights out at 9:30. And oh what a joy that was. I was the only lady in a room full of dudes – except for one Korean couple. I think there was one other woman. Anyway, there was one dude whose snore was truly one for the record books. Ungodly, inhuman. Never disturbing him, but keeping the rest of us up all night. And then there were the 3 am departures. What? 3 am? How can you even walk at 3 am? And where can you need to be? (of course, I’m one to talk – I was a little impatient to get up and go, to say the least. But I wasn’t down with 3 am. 7 am, yes, 3, no.)
So, 6 am came. I was exhausted, but got up anyway. What I won’t regale you with here is the tale of the early morning breakdown over when we should leave to make our descent. It was a strange and silly. But it did let me break through some stuff, do some yoga on the mountaintop, and find a gorgeous flower at my feet as I looked down from where I had been practicing. And in a very hippie manner, I asked the goddess of the mountain to please help me pull it together and make it down the mountain in one piece, with a little more insight and a little less impatience when I reached the bottom.
Our way down was pretty damn hard. Despite the assurance that the day “would be easy, not at all as difficult as what we had just done coming up.” (Because, of course, since we didn’t know what the hell we were doing, we chose the most challenging course up to the peak that exists on
the mountain.) But, kids, what have we learned about people on the mountain? They LIE! All of them. Liars The way down was another 8 or 10 km on rocky paths and stairs. So, going down was not easy. But it *was* gorgeous. Nothing but huge peaks, enormous waterfalls, TONS of stairs, many bunny ear photo shoots (and mini motorcycle shoots), breathtaking river valleys and cliffs towering over our heads. The water was crystal green. The pools from the waterfalls glided into smooth rock that led back into another waterfall. It was unbelievably stunning. And there weren’t that many people around. That was the best part.
We made it down to the next stopping point – another mountain hut frequented by rock
climbers due to the close proximity to two very fabulous rock faces the tower above it. And we were *beat*, legs shot, muscles quivering. Dying for food. And this hut was great – four times the size of the one on the peak. A restaurant, a store, even a whole section of crazy ginseng and other roots (like a mandrake!) in giant glass jars. We ate and had some soju, played cards with the guy who ran the place. Soaked my legs and knees in the cold river that ran right by the hut. Did some yoga on the rocks:
Made our way up to our space in the huge room. Did some yoga, and managed to get a whole audience of Korean climbers watching me by accident. Had a funny time doing some yoga with the guys that ran the place. He was clearly trying to have a yoga-off with me. It was hysterical. Here we are in my favorite stretching posture:
And we couldn’t move. Like seriously not at all. We got up the next morning, and we hiked our way out of the park, ready for a relaxing couple of re-coop days on the beach. After 10 minutes of hiking down, we found a nice, flat, rock path, and then an actual paved road! It was incredible. Just as we were lamenting that we wouldn’t be seeing any more 40 foot waterfalls, we walked across a gorgeous bridge and into another temple where there sat a tall, slate black statue of Buddha with a sunray crown. I was in awe of it. Gorgeous. Surrounded by dragons and turtles. And beneath the statue was a shrine. We spent a bit of time meditating and just sitting in awe of where we were under the belly of the Buddha. Amazing.
And then out of the park. The front entrance of the park is a circus. Tourist trap galore. Bandannas. Chocolate-dipped corn dogs with sprinkles (but my guess is that they are actually squid dogs, not actual hot dogs). I left the park with a kiwi juice and some tater tots I had found near these corn dogs. Here I am. Saying goodbye to the lovely, terribly difficult, Seorak-san (me goodbye pic)
I feel like we found a secret in Korea. Sure, thousands of people travel through that park every day, but for us, as we hiked the cliffs and descended into the valleys along pristine rivers, it was as though we were the only ones there. Yes, everything in Korea is hard. There are walls everywhere – in language, in cultural differences, in trying to order dinner, in climbing 11 km of rocky trail, in finding my own space here. Little by little, the walls are coming down. And on the other side of those seemingly impenetrable walls is a beauty unlike any I have ever experienced. The intensity of the mountain, in its hardship and in its splendor, didn’t just pull a few bricks here and there out of those walls. It smashed some of them completely, leaving me feeling a little broken by the force of their collapse, but still able to walk away, unscathed save for a few scratches and sore muscles.
We headed to the beach via city bus. Got off to catch another bus and found a park with a pretty impressive sculpture garden. Seriously, Korea has the most impressive public art. Everywhere. Here are some of the sculptures we found.
naskan...
And finally, we made it the beach town. Nasksan, famous for its seaside temple. We had to walk down the main road and up a small hill to our hotel – the Naksan Beach Hotel, the oldest and biggest in the town. The hill just about killed us, but then there were stairs. F*ing stairs. We hate the stairs. But at the top, there it was, a giant white ship of a hotel. Seriously built in the Cold War. A perfect place for the president to entertain fellow dictators and their mistresses. The lobby was straight out of James Bond – chandeliers, muralesque wall art, and a map of the world that stood behind the front desk, one of those metal wall ones with tiny little lights that marked cities around the world. Some were red, some were green. Not sure what the demarcation was – wasn’t day and night since the colors were different everywhere, not along time zones. Perhaps anther hold out of the Cold War – these cities are dirty capitalists, these are our comrades.
We had a little room up more stairs which had no bed – a common style in Korea – just cushy floor pads. We immediately showered and headed to the spa in the basement. A traditional Korean spa, but with the added “only one of its kind in the country” feature of sea water hot and cold pools. A very basic spa –hot and cold pools, dry sauna, steam room, showers and little washing stations. Just like Kabuki in SF but without all the lounge space and the cucumber water and the salt scrub. But only – get this – $4.00. SO CHEAP! Had a lovely time hanging out with all the Korean ladies. Grandmas, moms with their kids, adolescent girls, toddlers. It was awesome. And lots of the ladies were very sweet to me. They were surprised to see a foreigner there. No one they had ever met who wasn’t Korean enjoyed the spa. Well, how could you not??? It was great. Took a long nap afterwards and went back the next day after our day at the beach.
Ate bbq’d clams that night and explored the little town. The beach was *full* of people lighting off fireworks. Totally great. And though I’m not sure, I think since it was high beach season, the town was going off with excitement. A total carnivalesque atmosphere. Carnival games like pop the balloon and win a giant teddy bear or shoot the target and get a bottle of whiskey. Carnival rides like the pirate ship and the tilt-a-whirl – called the “Tagdisco” in Naksan. Circus. So many people! The next day at the beach was more of the same. You see, beaches in Korea are curious places. One of the main things you notice as soon as you move here as a foreigner – at least one from the US – is that Korean folks don’t have much trouble with being in close proximity to one another. There isn’t much of a sense of personal space. It takes a little getting used to. But at the beach, it’s a pretty hilarious site. Here’s this huge beach with tons of places to sit, and here are all these people, renting little umbrellas that have been placed like two feet apart from each other, all pushed as far up to the shore as possible. We crammed ourselves right in with the rest of them.
And the Koreans don’t seem to like to swim much. They like to float around on big yellow inner tubes, or be pulled around in inflatable boats, or perhaps take a ride on Shamu, which was a very popular beach toy out there. But when they do get in the water, they typically are wearing all their clothes. Some people wear suits – but even the bikinis come with these little skirts that the ladies wear to keep themselves covered. And the east and west coast differ in their ratio of clothes-wearers to scantily clad lads and lasses. I still can’t figure out which is which, but I think the west coast has less clothes. We noticed that there was this huge clump of inner tubes in one spot in the water, and I couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on. Again, a HUGE sea, yet only a small portion of it used to pack ‘em all in. Well, there appeared to be *one* wave. One wave that kept coming in at the same exact spot. So you’d hear this big “whoooooooooooaaaaaaaa.” And then another a few seconds later. Pretty amusing.
And in between all us beach sardines (do you detect a pattern here?) there were dudes walking around selling all sorts of goodies. Like bags of fried chicken. Because sometimes, when you’re on the hot beach smashed in between hundreds of people, you want to gorge yourself on fried chicken. Some people, apparently, did. Other dudes were selling these deceptive little bowls of ice dessert goodness. You seem you can never really tell where the red beans are going to show up. I had my first encounter with red bean ice cream on a long walk in Gwangju where I bought a popsicle that I saw a kid eating. I took a bit or two and got a funny taste in my mouth. Well, these dessert bowls are a treat called a ice flake sundae. It consists of a pile of nice ice flakes topped with a *pile* of red beans, canned fruit, chocolate or fruit sauce and some other such shenanigans and is then served with milk poured on top. Because of course, who *doesn’t* want a milk ice flake red bean sundae that eventually turns to milk water on a hot day at the beach. YUM!
But these dudes selling stuff. Beer, chicken, ice flakes, etc. They just walked wherever the felt like, trying to navigate the maze of people shoved right up to the shore. That included walking directly on our blankets. Which is kind of annoying. Like really annoying. Shoes full of wet sand and who knows what else. Thankfully they didn’t do it when we were lying down on them – no foot on the back or anything. But annoying nonetheless. I muscled a few off of my blanket a few times.
We started the night walking around, finding weird things to do, like have our feet eaten by tiny little fishes at Dr. Fish’s:
The rest of the evening was spent trying to figure out why I was having more meltdowns, playing cards, and accidentally ordering our own kiwi red bean ice flake sundae. Seriously one of the scariest food items I’ve seen here:
And so was the beach-going experience in Korea. We got some good time to relax and let our muscles heal, even though there were a few more meltdowns for me in the process. We’re hoping to get down to an island in the south in September to have a little more mellow time at the beach when no one is there.
On our long trip home – 11 hours of traveling on buses, long because of crazy traffic – I watched a strange Korean TV show that had a piece about Beijing. Mostly about street food and the building for the Olympics from what I could gather. And when Jim woke up, we decided that that it would be our winter vacation spot. So, Beijing January 2008 it will be.
And so, back in Gwangju. Back to school. Back to trying to figure out life in Korea.
Some thoughts I’ve been having after reflecting on this trip:
My tales of adventure here surely illustrate the hilarity and insanity and beauty of life in Korea. But they don’t always capture the converse or transverse or inverse of this life I’m living – the life that’s a little harder, a little more exhausting, a little less glitz and glamour. There’s always a life below the surface, isn’t there? This blog has been my only communication with the world since I’ve been here. The rest of the story is often too exhausting to share – it takes so much energy and brainpower to communicate exactly what it’s like to be here sometimes. Some words I might use: isolating, disconnected, uncentered, confused, or lost, even. I never imagined it could be true, but I *do* feel like I’m lost in translation. It may be trite or silly to say, but it feels true. And so, though I haven’t been in touch very much since I’ve been here, I know that if I am to make it here, to thrive here rather than just survive, I’m going to need to be. I’m going to need all of you.
So, here comes what I need: post that comment on my blog – it’s open to anyone now. Shoot me that email with the picture of your new (or old) puppy doing silly things (anne, bryan, amy!). Send the email about what your life is like with the new (or old) little one(s) in the house (john & jen, lisa & gavin, ruby, craig & rene, evan & jody!). Just be in touch. And I will be, too. I know I need it to get me through.
I send you all so much love from across the world.
catie
Anyhow, the bunny ear photo shoot ended, and we headed up the trail via a shortcut jim had discovered while being a monkey in bunny ears, jumping from rock to rock up the river. We met
some hikers who were coming down. They said we had a ways to go to reach the temple that was the halfway point to our hut. It would take us about a half hour to get there. You will recall the young monk who told us it would take 2 hours to what we found the next morning was actually a 10 minute walk up a lovely path. You see, there are many liars on Seorak-san. Sure, they disguise themselves as highly enlightened minds, what with their robes and prayer beads and bowing and all, or as weathered, experienced hikers of the expert degree, but make no mistake – they are liars! Still, the thought of just a 30 minute walk was heartening, gave me hope, made me want to sing out loud, really. Until I saw the walk. Right. Switch back, narrow, straight up. Rocks. Nothing but rocks. I just kept thinking, damn. These monks have been hoofin’ it up and down this mountain with nothing but small sandals for centuries. I can *do* this. But of course, they usually don’t hike with a 40 pound back on their back.[An aside: but I also recalled the number of men we had encountered on the trail who were carrying a variety of construction supplies on makeshift metal frame packs on their back – generators, fuel, tools, etc. you see, a horrible flood has destroyed probably 85% of the bridges and stairs along the river trails in the park. There were orange metal bridge and stair parts everywhere along the river trail. Massive structures that had been snapped and snarled by the force of the water and falling rocks. So there were a ton of construction crews on the mountain repairing the trail, and replacing the metal with new wooden bridges and stairs. With the construction came the need for lots of supplies to be delivered and removed from the mountain. So we saw huge airlift packages at different points on the trail. And we spotted lots of helicopters flying around making the deliveries. It was a trip to see that much work being done at that altitude. I was talking to my folks about this, and they mentioned that on a recent trip to Telluride, they saw the same thing on the top of the mountain there – but that construction is of the luxury condo and hotel variety. Very disturbing phenomenon of the destruction of peaceful wilderness for the erection of high end boutiques restaurants and enormous homes at Mountain Village. There’s a great film that was made about it – a parody and media advocacy piece called “The Lost People of Mountain Village.” But I digress. Basically, if dudes can carry generators on their back, I can make this ascent, I thought to myself.]
And we did. 45 minutes later, we finally got to the temple – Bongjeongam. and it was incredible. It was nestled in high, misty peaks. Tons of people walking everywhere. Lots of construction, which, like the trails, seemed to be the case for all of the temples on the mountain. Buildings at
lots of different points on the peak. We headed straight for the very cold, much needed water fountain. After dropping our packs, we headed up the stairs (I KNOW, more stairs), to see the pagoda at the top which contains a relic of the original Buddha brought back from China by the monk who established the monastery in 643. the view was unlike any other I’ve ever encountered. Misty Asian mountain tops. Truly majestic. And in the distance we saw a small cabin on the face of the peak next to us. Could that be our hut? No, it’s too high. It’s too far. No, the monk later told us, that’s it. But don’t worry, he said. It will only take you 20 minutes to get there. Famous last words. And we already know we can’t trust the monks. Why? Because they are liars! (I mean no disrespect to the wonderful monks. I am making, how you say? A joke!)I said out loud, “Now, that’s just a lie.” And of course, it was. This trail was all rocks, steeper than the last uphill trail – there were ropes to help us up, and seemed truly never ending. For most of the hike, I had a fear of falling backwards down the mountain, pulled over by the weight of my pack. A couple of times I had some close brushes with being knocked down. But I had made it safely up. Then I had to use a rope. Man, a rope. So I grab hold. I’m exhausted. My legs have had it. I’ve had it. And this kid behind me grabs the rope at the same time. Which throws me off balance and does, in fact, knock me over. Not off the mountain thankfully. But it gives me enough of a scare to jolt me into a crying spell. So, there I am, suddenly surrounded by Korean hikers, crying on a rock while Jim berates the kid and puts his arm around me. We continue on our way. And since I opened the flood gates, it sure wouldn’t stop. So, in between positive
motivational mantras, I just cried. For most of the rest of the way up. Woohoo! Mountain climbing is fun! Jim hiked ahead of me, and suddenly I hear a whoop and a holler and an “Oh my god!” I pulled myself together, walked as fast as I could, and in a daze, emerged into a clearing with beautiful wildflowers and a dozen faces staring at me as I made it up the last set of stairs to the hut. I turned around, and the view before me made me cry even harder. It was the most breathtaking, surreal, mythical view I had ever seen. We were at about 6500 feet at that point, looking out onto the eastern stretch of the park, with nothing but peaks that seemed to float in the sea of mist and clouds that engulfed the lower portions of the mountain in the distance. It was 6:30 pm. We had arrived. 12 km. 1500 meter ascent. And we had been greeted by the most amazing payoff I could have hoped for.We were led to our little sleeping hut (a small room with a 6 foot ceiling) where 15 or so of us would pack in like little sardine Korean hikers to “sleep” for the night. We dropped our packs, got out our dinner gear and sat outside at a picnic table to take in the view and watch the sunset. I iced my knees with a strange “Magic Chilly Pack” obtained from a science project at school that involved smashing the bag with your fist to feel the cold created through a chemical reaction. They worked for about 2 minutes. But I look really hot with them strapped to my knees…(PICTURE HERE)
We met some very lovely people, ate some ramen, and generally just decompressed. Then it was lights out at 9:30. And oh what a joy that was. I was the only lady in a room full of dudes – except for one Korean couple. I think there was one other woman. Anyway, there was one dude whose snore was truly one for the record books. Ungodly, inhuman. Never disturbing him, but keeping the rest of us up all night. And then there were the 3 am departures. What? 3 am? How can you even walk at 3 am? And where can you need to be? (of course, I’m one to talk – I was a little impatient to get up and go, to say the least. But I wasn’t down with 3 am. 7 am, yes, 3, no.)
So, 6 am came. I was exhausted, but got up anyway. What I won’t regale you with here is the tale of the early morning breakdown over when we should leave to make our descent. It was a strange and silly. But it did let me break through some stuff, do some yoga on the mountaintop, and find a gorgeous flower at my feet as I looked down from where I had been practicing. And in a very hippie manner, I asked the goddess of the mountain to please help me pull it together and make it down the mountain in one piece, with a little more insight and a little less impatience when I reached the bottom.
Our way down was pretty damn hard. Despite the assurance that the day “would be easy, not at all as difficult as what we had just done coming up.” (Because, of course, since we didn’t know what the hell we were doing, we chose the most challenging course up to the peak that exists on
the mountain.) But, kids, what have we learned about people on the mountain? They LIE! All of them. Liars The way down was another 8 or 10 km on rocky paths and stairs. So, going down was not easy. But it *was* gorgeous. Nothing but huge peaks, enormous waterfalls, TONS of stairs, many bunny ear photo shoots (and mini motorcycle shoots), breathtaking river valleys and cliffs towering over our heads. The water was crystal green. The pools from the waterfalls glided into smooth rock that led back into another waterfall. It was unbelievably stunning. And there weren’t that many people around. That was the best part.We made it down to the next stopping point – another mountain hut frequented by rock
climbers due to the close proximity to two very fabulous rock faces the tower above it. And we were *beat*, legs shot, muscles quivering. Dying for food. And this hut was great – four times the size of the one on the peak. A restaurant, a store, even a whole section of crazy ginseng and other roots (like a mandrake!) in giant glass jars. We ate and had some soju, played cards with the guy who ran the place. Soaked my legs and knees in the cold river that ran right by the hut. Did some yoga on the rocks:
Made our way up to our space in the huge room. Did some yoga, and managed to get a whole audience of Korean climbers watching me by accident. Had a funny time doing some yoga with the guys that ran the place. He was clearly trying to have a yoga-off with me. It was hysterical. Here we are in my favorite stretching posture:
And we couldn’t move. Like seriously not at all. We got up the next morning, and we hiked our way out of the park, ready for a relaxing couple of re-coop days on the beach. After 10 minutes of hiking down, we found a nice, flat, rock path, and then an actual paved road! It was incredible. Just as we were lamenting that we wouldn’t be seeing any more 40 foot waterfalls, we walked across a gorgeous bridge and into another temple where there sat a tall, slate black statue of Buddha with a sunray crown. I was in awe of it. Gorgeous. Surrounded by dragons and turtles. And beneath the statue was a shrine. We spent a bit of time meditating and just sitting in awe of where we were under the belly of the Buddha. Amazing.And then out of the park. The front entrance of the park is a circus. Tourist trap galore. Bandannas. Chocolate-dipped corn dogs with sprinkles (but my guess is that they are actually squid dogs, not actual hot dogs). I left the park with a kiwi juice and some tater tots I had found near these corn dogs. Here I am. Saying goodbye to the lovely, terribly difficult, Seorak-san (me goodbye pic)
I feel like we found a secret in Korea. Sure, thousands of people travel through that park every day, but for us, as we hiked the cliffs and descended into the valleys along pristine rivers, it was as though we were the only ones there. Yes, everything in Korea is hard. There are walls everywhere – in language, in cultural differences, in trying to order dinner, in climbing 11 km of rocky trail, in finding my own space here. Little by little, the walls are coming down. And on the other side of those seemingly impenetrable walls is a beauty unlike any I have ever experienced. The intensity of the mountain, in its hardship and in its splendor, didn’t just pull a few bricks here and there out of those walls. It smashed some of them completely, leaving me feeling a little broken by the force of their collapse, but still able to walk away, unscathed save for a few scratches and sore muscles.
We headed to the beach via city bus. Got off to catch another bus and found a park with a pretty impressive sculpture garden. Seriously, Korea has the most impressive public art. Everywhere. Here are some of the sculptures we found.
naskan...
And finally, we made it the beach town. Nasksan, famous for its seaside temple. We had to walk down the main road and up a small hill to our hotel – the Naksan Beach Hotel, the oldest and biggest in the town. The hill just about killed us, but then there were stairs. F*ing stairs. We hate the stairs. But at the top, there it was, a giant white ship of a hotel. Seriously built in the Cold War. A perfect place for the president to entertain fellow dictators and their mistresses. The lobby was straight out of James Bond – chandeliers, muralesque wall art, and a map of the world that stood behind the front desk, one of those metal wall ones with tiny little lights that marked cities around the world. Some were red, some were green. Not sure what the demarcation was – wasn’t day and night since the colors were different everywhere, not along time zones. Perhaps anther hold out of the Cold War – these cities are dirty capitalists, these are our comrades.
We had a little room up more stairs which had no bed – a common style in Korea – just cushy floor pads. We immediately showered and headed to the spa in the basement. A traditional Korean spa, but with the added “only one of its kind in the country” feature of sea water hot and cold pools. A very basic spa –hot and cold pools, dry sauna, steam room, showers and little washing stations. Just like Kabuki in SF but without all the lounge space and the cucumber water and the salt scrub. But only – get this – $4.00. SO CHEAP! Had a lovely time hanging out with all the Korean ladies. Grandmas, moms with their kids, adolescent girls, toddlers. It was awesome. And lots of the ladies were very sweet to me. They were surprised to see a foreigner there. No one they had ever met who wasn’t Korean enjoyed the spa. Well, how could you not??? It was great. Took a long nap afterwards and went back the next day after our day at the beach.
Ate bbq’d clams that night and explored the little town. The beach was *full* of people lighting off fireworks. Totally great. And though I’m not sure, I think since it was high beach season, the town was going off with excitement. A total carnivalesque atmosphere. Carnival games like pop the balloon and win a giant teddy bear or shoot the target and get a bottle of whiskey. Carnival rides like the pirate ship and the tilt-a-whirl – called the “Tagdisco” in Naksan. Circus. So many people! The next day at the beach was more of the same. You see, beaches in Korea are curious places. One of the main things you notice as soon as you move here as a foreigner – at least one from the US – is that Korean folks don’t have much trouble with being in close proximity to one another. There isn’t much of a sense of personal space. It takes a little getting used to. But at the beach, it’s a pretty hilarious site. Here’s this huge beach with tons of places to sit, and here are all these people, renting little umbrellas that have been placed like two feet apart from each other, all pushed as far up to the shore as possible. We crammed ourselves right in with the rest of them.
And the Koreans don’t seem to like to swim much. They like to float around on big yellow inner tubes, or be pulled around in inflatable boats, or perhaps take a ride on Shamu, which was a very popular beach toy out there. But when they do get in the water, they typically are wearing all their clothes. Some people wear suits – but even the bikinis come with these little skirts that the ladies wear to keep themselves covered. And the east and west coast differ in their ratio of clothes-wearers to scantily clad lads and lasses. I still can’t figure out which is which, but I think the west coast has less clothes. We noticed that there was this huge clump of inner tubes in one spot in the water, and I couldn’t figure out what the hell was going on. Again, a HUGE sea, yet only a small portion of it used to pack ‘em all in. Well, there appeared to be *one* wave. One wave that kept coming in at the same exact spot. So you’d hear this big “whoooooooooooaaaaaaaa.” And then another a few seconds later. Pretty amusing.
And in between all us beach sardines (do you detect a pattern here?) there were dudes walking around selling all sorts of goodies. Like bags of fried chicken. Because sometimes, when you’re on the hot beach smashed in between hundreds of people, you want to gorge yourself on fried chicken. Some people, apparently, did. Other dudes were selling these deceptive little bowls of ice dessert goodness. You seem you can never really tell where the red beans are going to show up. I had my first encounter with red bean ice cream on a long walk in Gwangju where I bought a popsicle that I saw a kid eating. I took a bit or two and got a funny taste in my mouth. Well, these dessert bowls are a treat called a ice flake sundae. It consists of a pile of nice ice flakes topped with a *pile* of red beans, canned fruit, chocolate or fruit sauce and some other such shenanigans and is then served with milk poured on top. Because of course, who *doesn’t* want a milk ice flake red bean sundae that eventually turns to milk water on a hot day at the beach. YUM!
But these dudes selling stuff. Beer, chicken, ice flakes, etc. They just walked wherever the felt like, trying to navigate the maze of people shoved right up to the shore. That included walking directly on our blankets. Which is kind of annoying. Like really annoying. Shoes full of wet sand and who knows what else. Thankfully they didn’t do it when we were lying down on them – no foot on the back or anything. But annoying nonetheless. I muscled a few off of my blanket a few times.
We started the night walking around, finding weird things to do, like have our feet eaten by tiny little fishes at Dr. Fish’s:
The rest of the evening was spent trying to figure out why I was having more meltdowns, playing cards, and accidentally ordering our own kiwi red bean ice flake sundae. Seriously one of the scariest food items I’ve seen here:
And so was the beach-going experience in Korea. We got some good time to relax and let our muscles heal, even though there were a few more meltdowns for me in the process. We’re hoping to get down to an island in the south in September to have a little more mellow time at the beach when no one is there.
On our long trip home – 11 hours of traveling on buses, long because of crazy traffic – I watched a strange Korean TV show that had a piece about Beijing. Mostly about street food and the building for the Olympics from what I could gather. And when Jim woke up, we decided that that it would be our winter vacation spot. So, Beijing January 2008 it will be.
And so, back in Gwangju. Back to school. Back to trying to figure out life in Korea.
Some thoughts I’ve been having after reflecting on this trip:
My tales of adventure here surely illustrate the hilarity and insanity and beauty of life in Korea. But they don’t always capture the converse or transverse or inverse of this life I’m living – the life that’s a little harder, a little more exhausting, a little less glitz and glamour. There’s always a life below the surface, isn’t there? This blog has been my only communication with the world since I’ve been here. The rest of the story is often too exhausting to share – it takes so much energy and brainpower to communicate exactly what it’s like to be here sometimes. Some words I might use: isolating, disconnected, uncentered, confused, or lost, even. I never imagined it could be true, but I *do* feel like I’m lost in translation. It may be trite or silly to say, but it feels true. And so, though I haven’t been in touch very much since I’ve been here, I know that if I am to make it here, to thrive here rather than just survive, I’m going to need to be. I’m going to need all of you.
So, here comes what I need: post that comment on my blog – it’s open to anyone now. Shoot me that email with the picture of your new (or old) puppy doing silly things (anne, bryan, amy!). Send the email about what your life is like with the new (or old) little one(s) in the house (john & jen, lisa & gavin, ruby, craig & rene, evan & jody!). Just be in touch. And I will be, too. I know I need it to get me through.
I send you all so much love from across the world.
catie
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Buddhas and sea salt
Just back from our incredible vacation. So many adventures. It feels as though I have been gone for weeks. Any my pictures will prove it. Somewhere around 700 photos to sort through.
the short list.
We slept in a Buddhist monastery set in a misty mountainside. And then we hiked with 40 lbs on our backs 1500 meters straight up through rocks. And we climbed lots of stairs. I mean LOTS.
You’ve never seen so many stairs in your life. And then we slept at the top of the mountain perched high above those misty mountaintops. And then we had to get down from that mountain. It was hard. And as we made our way down, we walked down even more stairs and saw forty-foot waterfalls plunging into gorgeous pools of emerald water. And then there were more stairs. At the bottom of all those stairs was a giant rock face set upon a lovely stretch of river. We slept at a cabin looking up at that beautiful rock, listening to the roar of the waterfall rush past us in the night. And I did yoga with a handful of Korean rock climbers in the cabin and laughed all the way through it. When we woke, we had lost the functioning of most muscle groups in our bodies. We hobbled down the rest of the stretch of path, found an actual, real-live, flat, paved road and jumped for joy. Sort of. See, we couldn’t actually jump. But we did very small leaps in our own
minds with ecstatic excitement. And just as we were lamenting that there would be no more forty-foot waterfalls to take our breath away, we turned our heads across a long bridge and had the wind knocked right out of us. There stood the tallest, most majestic statue of Buddah I could ever have imagined. Truly a sight to behold. And we found the secret entrance to the shrine below this magnificent being. And we meditated beneath it. And it was beautiful. Finally made our way out of the park and ate tater tots and kiwi juice on the way. Found the bus, traveled to the beach and found our hotel. Took one of those I’ve-been-in-the-woods-for-four-days-and-my-body-is-broken kind of showers and headed to the sea water spa in the basement of our cold-war era hotel. Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh. Soaked in the glorious mineral-rich warm sea water pool, eased the pain in my body in the steam room and dry sauna and plunged my body into the cool sea water tub. At last. Relief. An hour and a couple of good rub downs later, we were napping on the floor of our little hotel room on soft mats with bean bag pillows. We bbq’d clams and got lots more than we expected for practically nothing. We wandered the strange little beach town packed to the gills with people and various beach-like entertainment—like fireworks, mini-carnivals and mini-bikes. We spent the day on the beach.
Ate ice cream. Napped. Fended off the hawkers of fried chicken and red bean ice flake extravaganzas that insisted on stepping ON me instead of around our little oasis of beach blanket. Another afternoon in the spa. A night on the town, which involved a variety of activities including having our feet and toes nibbled on my very small fish. Fireworks. Cards. An extreme Korean version of an ice cream sundae that involved, of course, red beans. And back to Gwangju the next day—an epic journey that took 11 hours, the only appropriate closure to our own epic vacation.
Ok, so that’s the short list. I’m not sure how long this post will be, but my guess is that it will be LONG. Seriously long. So many things happened to us on this crazy trip. So, let me start back from the beginning.
Seoul.
We started out in Seoul. We managed to get there in time to make it back to Smile Planet to see what those crazy characters were up to, as they had recently opened a new store in the building. We were pleased to see that the silver Barbie construction that had been in pieces on our last visit was finally installed—as a giant floor-based lighting fixture. It was set against wallpaper that looked exactly like ruth asawa sculptures. Perfect.
We ordered some espresso. And, in true Seoul style, the bill came to ₩13,200 (about $13). But just as we were leaving, I saw our friend, the barista, emerge from the workshop space with a small gift. He presented me with this lovely little amalgam of plastic goodness. It's a little plastic charm with lots of funny little toys attached to it. I'll take a picture and post it later. I squealed with glee, I do believe. Yes, squealed. We headed down to the store, called The Bus, and found what was actually a little gallery of wearable (almost) art. The first section was a selection of gorgeous pieces of jewelry made completely unwearable by elaborate and delicate glass sculptures that had been added. Truly amazing pieces of handwork.
The next section was the artist from Smile Planet. Her stuff consisted of a bunch of odds and ends packaged in airtight plastic bags and strewn on the floor in front of a rack of clothing—all vintage high end couture: ysl pants, louis vuitton dress, etc. and all in miniscule sizes for silly amounts of money.
We headed to a nearby part of town to meet up with our friends for some good Indian/Nepalese
cuisine. Finally, samosas, nan, and yummy, yummy, food. We had an excellent meal, great conversation and then headed out to walk around the stadium area to watch the Koreans shop. Seriously. It’s all anyone does. On our way to the shopping area, we came across a man and a woman having an intense fight. The woman was wailing—quite literally—and clutching at the man’s shirt. He simply stood there and watched her. He made no move to be violent. She, however, was scratching and screaming endlessly. We could do nothing but stop and stare. A couple of Koreans were doing the same. We, of course, had no idea what was really going on. We all made up stores. Was she crazy? Was she drunk? Did he just break up with her? Is she a woman scorned, having just found out about some indiscretion of his? A larger crowd had gathered by the time we crossed the street. Such a strange thing to be in another place where language and culture creates so many barriers to understanding—what do you do? What do you say? So strange.
It was around 11 or so, and the street was bumpin’ with shops and department stores and outdoor stands. We came to one end where a man was selling teeny cute puppies, of which I have about a million pictures. We wandered about and eventually parted ways with our friends. Made it back to our hotel and were off the next day for Seorak-san.
Seorak-san (part one).
This national park is located in the northeastern section of South Korea. It’s really not too far from the DMZ, so there is a heavy military presence. There were many army boys on the buses with us during our journey there. We set out for the bus station (which took almost 2 hours to get to in Seoul by Subway and taxi) and jumped on a bus to the western side of the park. As we drove, a massive storm hit the area. Lightning, thunder, extreme winds. The sight of wind
blowing across rice fields on a backdrop of dark thunder clouds and bolts of lightning was pretty amazing. The rain subsided, we made it to our destination, and we started on the path into the park. Our packs were definitely heavier than we wanted them to be, uncomfortably so, but we trudged on, figuring they would get lighter over time, and our trek couldn’t possibly be that hard, right? Right…
There was a bus that was taking folks up a 2 km road to the temple at the end—Baekdam-sa. We opted to walk. How far could it be, right? We entered the park and came upon the most beautiful river valley. It was lightly raining. We started to feel the weight of our packs. I was stubborn and wouldn’t take a break (or course)-we must keep moving I thought. (I thought this a lot during this trip—it would prove to be a generally bad idea). We dodged a dozen buses going in either direction. And just as Jim got me to sit down and drink some water, a bus pulled up and asked if we wanted a ride. It was an empty bus, not full like all the others, making it easy to accommodate us and our giant packs. So, we jumped on. And just in time, I think. The road immediately got narrower and more dangerous in its curves. We would have most certainly been in danger of death by bus had we kept walking.
So, we arrived at the temple and started to explore. We wandered over to a little statue of Buddah set in front of a large pool of water. The Buddah was a fountain, and on the basin sat a number of small plastic drinking cups. “I read about this!” Jim exclaimed. “You can drink the
water!” and so we did. It was incredibly clear and fresh and cold. As we stood there looking out onto the mist rolling over the mountains, a young monk walked toward the fountain to fill his water bottle. We chatted with him for a minute and he asked us where we were staying that night. “oh, the hut up the way, we think.” “You can stay here,” he said. Well, the hut is close, right? We showed him our topo map. “Oh no,” he said. “That will take you 2 hours.” 2 hour? To go a half a km? Are you sure. Oh yes, very. Okay…Wow. Cool. Let’s stay at the temple. He walked around and showed us the bathroom and the dining room where we’d have breakfast at 6 the next morning. He brought us to a little room with another guy who looked to be the one who makes all the sleeping arrangements. They wanted ₩30,000 at first, but when we balked at that, they said, ok, no money. Don’t worry. So, there we were. We had our own little room in a temple in the mountains. It was lovely.
We walked around a bit, and Jim met some folks who spoke English. Turns out they were a
group of Korean-Swedes in for a conference in Seoul for international Korean adoptees—a conference a friend of mine from Gwangju was also attending. So we chatted with the Swede for a while. We cooked dinner by the river and watched the lights of the temple flicker on as the sky got dark. We crawled into our little bed on the floor and looked forward to a long day of hiking the mountain. Of course, that day came much sooner than we thought. At 2:40 am, we were awakened by a group of people outside chatting away and hanging out as if it was nothing to be up at 2:40 am at a Buddhist temple. Jim finally opened our door to see what was going on, and there were the Swedes (damn those Swedes!). They were all dressed and ready to go somewhere. Where, I have no idea. But over the course of this trip, I have realized that Koreans have lots of places to go at 3 am. Lots. 15 minutes later, we hear the singing start. A monk has begun singing and playing a wooden bell. For a really long time. And apparently, the Swedes had been clued in to this event and were up to watch. (We found out later, after watching a funny Korean movie called Sisley 2 km yesterday that this song is meant to keep out evil spirits, at least I think that’s what this song was.) We finally got to sleep, only to be awoken at 5 am for yet another round of signing and bell ringing, this time with the great steel bell that sits within the temple site (I have some photos/video of the bell above). At 6 am, it was breakfast time. We were the last to get in on the food. The Swedes, of course, were the first. They are so punctual, those Swedes.
At 7:30 am we were off for the day of hiking. Our plan was to hike about 10 km to a “small” peak and stay the night at one of the huts in near the peak.*
*Here are some things you should know about camping and hiking in Korea. First, Koreans are ALL about their hiking. They are insane hikers, often getting up at 3 in the morning to start their hike just to make it to their destination before the sun comes up. They have walking sticks and gloves and, for the most part, very, very small packs. So of course, hiking long distances is
no biggie. They’re equipped for it, and so they often make just day trips or, at most, 2 days. There isn’t much camping within the national parks. You have to stay at these things called “mountain huts” which cost about ₩5,000/person and consist of varying sizes of rooms with floor space for folks to sleep on. You get packed into these places like sardines…we had two such experiences, the second one better than the first.
We were not prepared for the distance or the terrain we hiked on this trip. Not at all. However, with great foresight, Jim bought us both walking sticks (adjustable, metal hiking poles) which I sneered at and said, multiple time, I don’t think I’m going to need this, but ok. Ok, is right. Had I not had that damn stick, I’d have broken both legs, I think. Seriously. It was more than handy in our climb straight up the mountain and our crazy descent to the bottom.
And so we started off, walking through the gorgeous river valley, passing another temple on the way, and stopping for an hour or so in the afternoon to eat some lunch. We got back on the road around 1, thinking we would arrive at our destination in a few hours. What we didn’t realize is that we had chosen the most difficult means of reaching our destination that the park had to offer. Straight up with nothing but rocks and ropes to help us scurry up the mountain with our giant packs on our backs.
And so I will leave you here, dear readers, as we begin our ascent into the most unforgiving mountain territory I have ever encountered. I’ll return with part two and three of the story in the coming days.
Tomorrow, it’s back to teaching. Please do send the word to me when you get the chance. I’m missing home quite a bit at the moment.
I survived the mountain.
catie
the short list.
We slept in a Buddhist monastery set in a misty mountainside. And then we hiked with 40 lbs on our backs 1500 meters straight up through rocks. And we climbed lots of stairs. I mean LOTS.
You’ve never seen so many stairs in your life. And then we slept at the top of the mountain perched high above those misty mountaintops. And then we had to get down from that mountain. It was hard. And as we made our way down, we walked down even more stairs and saw forty-foot waterfalls plunging into gorgeous pools of emerald water. And then there were more stairs. At the bottom of all those stairs was a giant rock face set upon a lovely stretch of river. We slept at a cabin looking up at that beautiful rock, listening to the roar of the waterfall rush past us in the night. And I did yoga with a handful of Korean rock climbers in the cabin and laughed all the way through it. When we woke, we had lost the functioning of most muscle groups in our bodies. We hobbled down the rest of the stretch of path, found an actual, real-live, flat, paved road and jumped for joy. Sort of. See, we couldn’t actually jump. But we did very small leaps in our own
minds with ecstatic excitement. And just as we were lamenting that there would be no more forty-foot waterfalls to take our breath away, we turned our heads across a long bridge and had the wind knocked right out of us. There stood the tallest, most majestic statue of Buddah I could ever have imagined. Truly a sight to behold. And we found the secret entrance to the shrine below this magnificent being. And we meditated beneath it. And it was beautiful. Finally made our way out of the park and ate tater tots and kiwi juice on the way. Found the bus, traveled to the beach and found our hotel. Took one of those I’ve-been-in-the-woods-for-four-days-and-my-body-is-broken kind of showers and headed to the sea water spa in the basement of our cold-war era hotel. Aaaaaahhhhhhhhh. Soaked in the glorious mineral-rich warm sea water pool, eased the pain in my body in the steam room and dry sauna and plunged my body into the cool sea water tub. At last. Relief. An hour and a couple of good rub downs later, we were napping on the floor of our little hotel room on soft mats with bean bag pillows. We bbq’d clams and got lots more than we expected for practically nothing. We wandered the strange little beach town packed to the gills with people and various beach-like entertainment—like fireworks, mini-carnivals and mini-bikes. We spent the day on the beach.
Ate ice cream. Napped. Fended off the hawkers of fried chicken and red bean ice flake extravaganzas that insisted on stepping ON me instead of around our little oasis of beach blanket. Another afternoon in the spa. A night on the town, which involved a variety of activities including having our feet and toes nibbled on my very small fish. Fireworks. Cards. An extreme Korean version of an ice cream sundae that involved, of course, red beans. And back to Gwangju the next day—an epic journey that took 11 hours, the only appropriate closure to our own epic vacation.Ok, so that’s the short list. I’m not sure how long this post will be, but my guess is that it will be LONG. Seriously long. So many things happened to us on this crazy trip. So, let me start back from the beginning.
Seoul.
We started out in Seoul. We managed to get there in time to make it back to Smile Planet to see what those crazy characters were up to, as they had recently opened a new store in the building. We were pleased to see that the silver Barbie construction that had been in pieces on our last visit was finally installed—as a giant floor-based lighting fixture. It was set against wallpaper that looked exactly like ruth asawa sculptures. Perfect.
We ordered some espresso. And, in true Seoul style, the bill came to ₩13,200 (about $13). But just as we were leaving, I saw our friend, the barista, emerge from the workshop space with a small gift. He presented me with this lovely little amalgam of plastic goodness. It's a little plastic charm with lots of funny little toys attached to it. I'll take a picture and post it later. I squealed with glee, I do believe. Yes, squealed. We headed down to the store, called The Bus, and found what was actually a little gallery of wearable (almost) art. The first section was a selection of gorgeous pieces of jewelry made completely unwearable by elaborate and delicate glass sculptures that had been added. Truly amazing pieces of handwork.
The next section was the artist from Smile Planet. Her stuff consisted of a bunch of odds and ends packaged in airtight plastic bags and strewn on the floor in front of a rack of clothing—all vintage high end couture: ysl pants, louis vuitton dress, etc. and all in miniscule sizes for silly amounts of money.We headed to a nearby part of town to meet up with our friends for some good Indian/Nepalese
cuisine. Finally, samosas, nan, and yummy, yummy, food. We had an excellent meal, great conversation and then headed out to walk around the stadium area to watch the Koreans shop. Seriously. It’s all anyone does. On our way to the shopping area, we came across a man and a woman having an intense fight. The woman was wailing—quite literally—and clutching at the man’s shirt. He simply stood there and watched her. He made no move to be violent. She, however, was scratching and screaming endlessly. We could do nothing but stop and stare. A couple of Koreans were doing the same. We, of course, had no idea what was really going on. We all made up stores. Was she crazy? Was she drunk? Did he just break up with her? Is she a woman scorned, having just found out about some indiscretion of his? A larger crowd had gathered by the time we crossed the street. Such a strange thing to be in another place where language and culture creates so many barriers to understanding—what do you do? What do you say? So strange.
It was around 11 or so, and the street was bumpin’ with shops and department stores and outdoor stands. We came to one end where a man was selling teeny cute puppies, of which I have about a million pictures. We wandered about and eventually parted ways with our friends. Made it back to our hotel and were off the next day for Seorak-san.
Seorak-san (part one).
This national park is located in the northeastern section of South Korea. It’s really not too far from the DMZ, so there is a heavy military presence. There were many army boys on the buses with us during our journey there. We set out for the bus station (which took almost 2 hours to get to in Seoul by Subway and taxi) and jumped on a bus to the western side of the park. As we drove, a massive storm hit the area. Lightning, thunder, extreme winds. The sight of wind
blowing across rice fields on a backdrop of dark thunder clouds and bolts of lightning was pretty amazing. The rain subsided, we made it to our destination, and we started on the path into the park. Our packs were definitely heavier than we wanted them to be, uncomfortably so, but we trudged on, figuring they would get lighter over time, and our trek couldn’t possibly be that hard, right? Right…There was a bus that was taking folks up a 2 km road to the temple at the end—Baekdam-sa. We opted to walk. How far could it be, right? We entered the park and came upon the most beautiful river valley. It was lightly raining. We started to feel the weight of our packs. I was stubborn and wouldn’t take a break (or course)-we must keep moving I thought. (I thought this a lot during this trip—it would prove to be a generally bad idea). We dodged a dozen buses going in either direction. And just as Jim got me to sit down and drink some water, a bus pulled up and asked if we wanted a ride. It was an empty bus, not full like all the others, making it easy to accommodate us and our giant packs. So, we jumped on. And just in time, I think. The road immediately got narrower and more dangerous in its curves. We would have most certainly been in danger of death by bus had we kept walking.
So, we arrived at the temple and started to explore. We wandered over to a little statue of Buddah set in front of a large pool of water. The Buddah was a fountain, and on the basin sat a number of small plastic drinking cups. “I read about this!” Jim exclaimed. “You can drink the
water!” and so we did. It was incredibly clear and fresh and cold. As we stood there looking out onto the mist rolling over the mountains, a young monk walked toward the fountain to fill his water bottle. We chatted with him for a minute and he asked us where we were staying that night. “oh, the hut up the way, we think.” “You can stay here,” he said. Well, the hut is close, right? We showed him our topo map. “Oh no,” he said. “That will take you 2 hours.” 2 hour? To go a half a km? Are you sure. Oh yes, very. Okay…Wow. Cool. Let’s stay at the temple. He walked around and showed us the bathroom and the dining room where we’d have breakfast at 6 the next morning. He brought us to a little room with another guy who looked to be the one who makes all the sleeping arrangements. They wanted ₩30,000 at first, but when we balked at that, they said, ok, no money. Don’t worry. So, there we were. We had our own little room in a temple in the mountains. It was lovely.We walked around a bit, and Jim met some folks who spoke English. Turns out they were a
group of Korean-Swedes in for a conference in Seoul for international Korean adoptees—a conference a friend of mine from Gwangju was also attending. So we chatted with the Swede for a while. We cooked dinner by the river and watched the lights of the temple flicker on as the sky got dark. We crawled into our little bed on the floor and looked forward to a long day of hiking the mountain. Of course, that day came much sooner than we thought. At 2:40 am, we were awakened by a group of people outside chatting away and hanging out as if it was nothing to be up at 2:40 am at a Buddhist temple. Jim finally opened our door to see what was going on, and there were the Swedes (damn those Swedes!). They were all dressed and ready to go somewhere. Where, I have no idea. But over the course of this trip, I have realized that Koreans have lots of places to go at 3 am. Lots. 15 minutes later, we hear the singing start. A monk has begun singing and playing a wooden bell. For a really long time. And apparently, the Swedes had been clued in to this event and were up to watch. (We found out later, after watching a funny Korean movie called Sisley 2 km yesterday that this song is meant to keep out evil spirits, at least I think that’s what this song was.) We finally got to sleep, only to be awoken at 5 am for yet another round of signing and bell ringing, this time with the great steel bell that sits within the temple site (I have some photos/video of the bell above). At 6 am, it was breakfast time. We were the last to get in on the food. The Swedes, of course, were the first. They are so punctual, those Swedes.At 7:30 am we were off for the day of hiking. Our plan was to hike about 10 km to a “small” peak and stay the night at one of the huts in near the peak.*
*Here are some things you should know about camping and hiking in Korea. First, Koreans are ALL about their hiking. They are insane hikers, often getting up at 3 in the morning to start their hike just to make it to their destination before the sun comes up. They have walking sticks and gloves and, for the most part, very, very small packs. So of course, hiking long distances is
no biggie. They’re equipped for it, and so they often make just day trips or, at most, 2 days. There isn’t much camping within the national parks. You have to stay at these things called “mountain huts” which cost about ₩5,000/person and consist of varying sizes of rooms with floor space for folks to sleep on. You get packed into these places like sardines…we had two such experiences, the second one better than the first.We were not prepared for the distance or the terrain we hiked on this trip. Not at all. However, with great foresight, Jim bought us both walking sticks (adjustable, metal hiking poles) which I sneered at and said, multiple time, I don’t think I’m going to need this, but ok. Ok, is right. Had I not had that damn stick, I’d have broken both legs, I think. Seriously. It was more than handy in our climb straight up the mountain and our crazy descent to the bottom.
And so we started off, walking through the gorgeous river valley, passing another temple on the way, and stopping for an hour or so in the afternoon to eat some lunch. We got back on the road around 1, thinking we would arrive at our destination in a few hours. What we didn’t realize is that we had chosen the most difficult means of reaching our destination that the park had to offer. Straight up with nothing but rocks and ropes to help us scurry up the mountain with our giant packs on our backs.
And so I will leave you here, dear readers, as we begin our ascent into the most unforgiving mountain territory I have ever encountered. I’ll return with part two and three of the story in the coming days.
Tomorrow, it’s back to teaching. Please do send the word to me when you get the chance. I’m missing home quite a bit at the moment.
I survived the mountain.
catie
Saturday, August 4, 2007
takin' a break
just back from an epic vacation to seorak-san in the northeastern corner of korea. truly magestic. one of the most breathtaking places i have ever been. but also one of the most excruciatingly difficult mountains i've ever hiked. jim and i are definitely broken from the climb and descent. but oh the stories we have to tell. today is a day of recovery. finally back in gwangju after 12 hours of traveling yesterday (a typhoon hit japan which caused a pretty intense storm where we were on the end of the week-long vacation for the entire country of korea...have you ever seen a traffic jam 60 km long becuase of a rest stop?? seriously.)
checking email and bopping around on the web. found this gem that is definitely givin' me a feeling. thought i'd share it. it's a priceless (and seemingly neverending) tribute to stevie. what could be better on my day off?
and this. not sure if you've caught this one, but it's truly brilliant action by mr. colbert. he parodies the video of Korean pop superstar Rain's "Way to Avoid the Sun." Stephen Colbert was peeved that Rain beat him out for the top spot as the "number one most influential" person in the world, as voted by readers. watch Rain's video first and then colbert's...
and then colbert...
checking email and bopping around on the web. found this gem that is definitely givin' me a feeling. thought i'd share it. it's a priceless (and seemingly neverending) tribute to stevie. what could be better on my day off?
and this. not sure if you've caught this one, but it's truly brilliant action by mr. colbert. he parodies the video of Korean pop superstar Rain's "Way to Avoid the Sun." Stephen Colbert was peeved that Rain beat him out for the top spot as the "number one most influential" person in the world, as voted by readers. watch Rain's video first and then colbert's...
and then colbert...
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