Part 1: We're all going on our summer holidays!

Our summer holidays started last weekend and we have been travelling around the country for the past week seeing a mixed-bag of sights. Seat yourself now as I tell you tales of tombs disguised as hills, cheeky chipmunks, Buddhist temples, parks featuring giant penises in lieu of trees, encounters with North Korean soldiers and a 33m-high golden Buddha overlooking it all.

Our first port of call was the ancient city of Gyeonju, former capital of Korea during the Silla Dynasty. It’s described in guidebooks as an ‘open-air museum’ because it is full traditional fare. Instead of indecently tall sky-scrapers the city centre boasts buildings of a more modest stature with pretty hanok-style roofs. The city is also scattered with little green hillocks which are in fact burial mounds containing the remains of Kings and other such important folk.

On our first day there we went to Tumuli Park to look at the various tombs housed within. We even got to go inside one of the grassy mounds and take a gander at the King’s treasures. The park itself was very pretty, though the cicadas in the treetops were making an awful racket. Even though these insects are enormous they are impossible to spot when they’re in the trees. However, every now and again one would fall from the heavens only to be seized and dragged away by an army of black ants waiting in the wings. The cicadas would then strike up an even more frenzied chorus of war cries in order to mourn their fallen brethren. 

After having our fill of tombs we went to Wolseong Park to look at the colourful flowers. The park also contained the Far East’s oldest astrological observatory dating back to AD 632. I was more impressed by the nearby Anapji Pond though. The pound was lousy with pink and white lotus flowers and of course the inevitable slew of Korean couples in matching outfits. There were so many flowers in bloom that they created a carpet completely covering the water. It pleased my beady blue eye to behold. Not far from the pond was a colourful pagoda known as Bunhwang and a large white museum by the name of Gyeongju National Museum. My favourite part of the museum was a large ornate bell that was decorated with raised floral designs described by the information placard as ‘beautiful bell nipples.’

The next day we went on a day trip to Bulguk-sa temple in the mountains outside the city. Whilst touring the temple a wizened little old lady took a shine to Gareth and offered to be his guide. She had taught herself English with the aid of a dictionary (which is hugely impressive) and was eager to practise it on foreigners. She insisted that Gareth follow her around in search of ‘lucky pigs’ that were hidden around the temple grounds. If you rub the pig statues your family will gain wealth and achieve happiness. Gareth did as the old lady bid and then we left the temple full of ‘the luck o’ the pigs.’ 

In the mountains above Bulguk-sa is the grotto of Seokguram, home to a large stone Buddha that protects the surrounding land. We decided to hike up the mountain to view said grotto but our progress was very slow as we were being melted by the sun. Also, we kept getting distracted by the dancing chipmunks that laced the forest path. The were so fast as they darted from tree to tree that it was like God was controlling them with a remote and kept accidentally sitting on the fast forward button. It made it very difficult (and time consuming) to try and capture them in a photograph. We persisted in our endeavours though because they were so gosh darn cute that we had to have one in picture form. I’m not sure why I find chipmunks so compelling though, I mean they’re basically rats just dressed in fancier fur coats… Anyway I digress; once our work was no longer impeded by the frolicking chipmunk we reached the grotto. The area was all decked out with colourful lanterns and the stone Buddha looked very stately and wise. We weren’t allowed to take any pictures of him though. 

Anyway, that concludes my tale of Gyeongju. We left Korea’s former capital on Sunday and went to Korea’s current capital on Monday. I must say that I prefer the old school architecture of Gyeonju to the urban jungle that is Seoul. I am now of the opinion that the Koreans constructed Seoul simply to confound the white man. How anybody manages to even locate their own homes or places of work in this maze of a metropolis is frankly astounding. If I was a citizen of that city I probably wouldn’t leave my apartment for fear that I would never return if I attempted to navigate my way back. Rant over.

It was unfortunately necessary to base ourselves in Seoul though as it’s the most well-connected city in Korea so it’s convenient for travelling to other parts. We decided to spend a day sightseeing in Seoul before leaving for greener pastures. We went to the Seodaemun Prison Hall where the colonial Japanese used to torture Korean patriots. Some of the torture devices were on display and there were tableaux displaying the techniques the Japanese used to hurt and humiliate the Koreans. The solemnity of the whole set-up was marred somewhat though by the fact that visitors were allowed to play with some of the torture apparatus and go into the cells and pretend to be prisoners. I fit perfectly into a child-sized torture coffin. That is an odd thing to brag about, I know… There was one room that was genuinely chilling though. The room was completely devoid of furniture and was empty save for the black and white pictures of former inmates that wallpapered the walls. It was very unsettling.

 

After the prison museum, we went to Changdeokgung Palace to go on a tour of the ‘Secret Garden.’ We had already undertaken this tour once before in winter but we thought that it might be nice to see the garden again when things would be a little warmer and greener. However the nymphs of the clouds had other ideas and at the very moment the tour started they gathered pitchers of water from the rivers and started dunking them on our heads. The rain continued until the tour ended 90 minutes later. The only way we could get around the garden was by running quickly from pagoda to pagoda in order to seek momentary shelter. Still, even during monsoon season I think Korea is dryer than Ireland. 

On Wednesday morning we boarded the bus to the town of Samcheok where we explored gigantic limestone caves nestled in the mountains and admired the phallic statues in the local ‘Penis Park.’ I shall leave my tales of mountains and members until another blog though as I am quite tired now and I desire feeding.

Until we meet again!

Mud Fest!

Greetings all,

The Boryeong Mud Festival started last Saturday and I was in attendance. Boryeong is famed for its mud which is rich in minerals and is apparently very good for your skin. Every year they dump a load of this mineral mud down by the beach and set up a ‘Mud Experience Land’ for the good people of South Korea to revel in. Though to be fair, it attracts more foreigners than Koreans. Koreans are conservative folk and I guess there is something a tad hedonistic about a bunch of scantily clad young people spending nine days writhing about in the mud, their bodies smeared with filth.  Upon entering the festival grounds one is inevitably greeted by the sight of an orgy of mud covered limbs coming at ya like an angry brown octopus and I guess this is a tad shocking for anyone with delicate sensibilities.

We finished work at half nine on Friday night and caught the bus to Boryeong at ten. We were joined by 50 other ‘waeguks’ (Korean for foreigners). The bus was a ‘Norebang’ bus which means it was equipped with its very own karaoke machine so we were able to sing and make merry all the way there. Some of the English translations (or more aptly mistranslations) on the Karaoke screen were most hilarious. The line ‘So many times, it happens too fast’ in Eye of the Tiger was transcribed as ‘Knock on the door, I’m having a bath.’ 

 The journey took about four hours as we had to make many pit-stops due to the copious amounts of drinking that went on in the bus’s environs. When we arrived we dumped our stuff in our minbak and then went out for the night. We were actually very fortunate in our choice of room at the minbak. My group was one of the first to reach our new abode so we got our pick of the litter. Our room was one of the few to have its own bathroom and there were only 5 people sleeping on the floor (6 if you count the drunk girl who wandered in on the second night.) The minbak provides you with bedding which you can avail of to make your nest in the corner of the room as there are no beds. Tis not the most comfortable of arrangements but it's cheap and that’s all that matters.

On our first night we went to the beach for a while. Some people went swimming and some played with fireworks. Then we went in search of booze and chicken. We arrived back at the minbak at about 5 in the morning. We probably would have reached our abode a tad sooner if we had not accidently ventured into the wrong minbak. But in our defence, all those buildings look inconveniently alike.Upon finding the right minbak we slumbered for about four hours and then woke up in the morning feeling as fresh as recently trampled daisies.

After a refreshing breakfast of tuna wrapped in rice and seaweed we went down to the beach to join in the festivities. There were many attractions to behold including a mud pool, mud slides, mud prison and coloured mud body paint. We had a gay old time splashing about in the mud and only left when the combination of mud and rain made things a little too liquidy. We therefore went slip sliding away back to our minbak. I don’t have a whole lot of photos from the day’s activities as mud and cameras do not a good combination make. However, here are a few to feast your eyes on. I think my favourite photos are the ones of the rather politically incorrect mud people statues that just look like white people in black-face. 

After we had washed the mud from our bodies we went back to the beach to set up camp. I had not been long at the beach before disaster struck; I wandered off from my party for a few moments and got swallowed up in the throngs of mud people. This was very unfortunate for me as I was born without a sense of direction and for many years I have been afflicted by an inability to find my way home. I wandered about for a while but I couldn’t see anybody I knew as the beach was long and teeming with people. Usually it is easy to find a foreigner in Korea as we stick out like, well foreigners in a country full of Asian natives. However, the mud festival was riddled with round eyes. It was therefore impossible to find anybody as all foreigners look alike. Luckily I was befriended by a group of Columbians and a man from El Salvador. I ended up spending the next 4 hours discussing the merits of Spanish poetry with the man from El Salvador. When evening fell the men rather chivalrously offered to escort me back to my minbak. This was no easy feat as I genuinely had no idea where it was and could only remember the names of a smattering of vague landmarks in the area. However, the men delivered me at my doorstep safe and sound. I arrived just in time to join a group of people who were going for an indoor barbeque and after being fed and watered all was well with the world again. There was a large stage on the beach built for the purpose of entertaining the masses with live music. I later learned that the whole time that I was lost on the beach I was at one side of the stage and my friends were on the other. D’oh.

On Saturday night we went down to the beach to watch a fireworks display and do some beach-time drinking. Then we retired to bed while it was still early enough as we were bleedin’ knackered. The next day we packed our trunks and said goodbye to the Mud Festival. The ride home was a more subdued affair than the journey up as most people were hung-over and sleepy so we just watched a movie on the bus to while away the time until our arrival in Jinju.

The Mud Fest came at a good time as things have been a little stressful at work. There have been more dramatic exits on the part of disgruntled staff and more tomfoolery on the part of our boss. I was feeling rather stressed on Friday because of the situation at work and a number of other things and one of the Korean teachers noticed this. She therefore decided, in a rather unusual move, to throw me a surprise birthday party. I was just coming to the end of a laborious 75 min evening class when some of the teachers walked into the classroom armed with a birthday cake. They proceeded to turn off the lights and ordered the kids to serenade me with a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday.’ This was of course highly baffling to me as my birthday was 5 months ago. They told me that the cake was an effort to cheer me up. It was a noble gesture to be sure but the whole thing was a little too surreal for me, not to mention highly mortifying. These kids are ruthless, if you show any sign of weakness they will lose all respect for you and become unmanageable in the classroom. Therefore, telling the kids that I was sad and making them sing to me was a not a good way of maintaining my reputation as a serious and dignified teacher. Sigh, they will never respect my authoritah again. The teachers meant well though I’m sure.

Anyway, that’s all my news. Hope all is well in the Motherland. 

P.S. Here is a pic of a hotel that is rather inappropriately named 'Full House' advertising vacancies. It made me chuckle.

Shabu-shabu to you.

Fellow humans, I salute you.

Here are some words:

Three of the expats had their birthdays during the week so we had plans to spend the weekend on an island by way of celebration. Unfortunately, monsoon season has started here in fair Korea and the torrential rain scuppered our island plan. We therefore had to go with plan B: a group of us shared a bowl of spine soup, we followed this with some drunken bowling and then we rounded the night off with a big bowl of  homemade carbonara at 3 in the morning. Twas an unusual yet enjoyable night.

The eatery we went to was a Japanese shabu-shabu restaurant. They serve a kind of Japanese-style hot pot. Ours looked like a witch’s brew; it contained the spine of some unfortunate animal, many a vegetable and some boiling broth. We all ate from the same cauldron which was lit from beneath by a fire. We had to fight over the bits of animal carcass and the best spoils went to the mightiest warriors. I found that growling loudly and embiggening my body usually scared off my fellow predators. Once you had wrestled away a tasty morsel you had to strip the meat with your chopstick and then wash it down with the soupy stuff. It was quite a predacious plunder but I guess you don’t win friends with salad.

After shabu-shabu we went en masse to the bowling alley where we drank soju and also did a spot of bowling. The white pins would try to intimidate us by standing smugly in uniform formation at the end of the lane but we did not tremble. We knocked down those arrogant white soldiers with our bowling balls of justice and then went out into the night in search of more ale. We drank in a nearby pub until closing time and then retired to a friend’s house to have some carbonara. It was probably a tad gluttonous of us to have pasta in the small hours of the morning as we had already had a plate of chicken in the pub as desert after the spine soup but we had our fun and that’s all that matters.

Join me next week for more tales from the Hermit country! I shall be attending the famed Mud Festival next weekend so I shall be sure to post a blog about our upcoming capers. :)

A blog of a more serious nature.

Greetings everybody,

I hope this post finds you well.

I had a ‘girls’ night out’ the Friday before last with the expat women of Jinju. We of course talked about dresses and embroidery and other such trivial things that women delight in. We also shared a large pot of octopus soup. I was prevailed upon to sample a tentacle but I could not be coerced into gorging on the head as its eyes were looking at me. This Friday and Saturday night involved much the same fare as last weekend; drinking with the expats, munching on indoor barbeque beef and slowly melting in the unforgiving Korean sun.

The only event of note that I have attended during the last two weeks was a lecture at the local university given by a woman who had escaped from North Korea. Her story was fairly horrific. She had been raised to believe that North Korea was a paradise and that the rest of the world was violent and uncivilised thanks to the propaganda that is spread by Kim Jong-il's regime. Her eyes were opened as an adult. She experienced the famine in the 1990s and saw starving people eating the bark from trees whilst humanitarian aid was diverted to the army. She later ended up being imprisoned in a concentration camp for a minor offence. There she lived in sub-human conditions and witnessed many atrocities until her escape to China. Her life in China wasn’t much better though as she had to live in hiding from the Chinese government. The Chinese have a nasty habit of forcing defectors back into North Korea. The people who manage to make it across the North Korean border are officially regarded by the Chinese government as ‘illegal economic immigrants’ rather than refugees seeking asylum. Accordingly they are shown no mercy by the Chinese police who actively hunt them down and prevent them from moving on to other countries where they would be welcomed. The speaker testifies that defectors who are repatriated are seen as traitors and are therefore punished with torture, death and sometimes the execution of their relatives. She herself was caught and sent back to North Korea. Miraculously, she managed to escape again but not before being brutalised so badly that she has been left permanently disabled. 

We were then shown some horrific genuine footage of refugees who were trying to make their way from China to South Korea without being detected so that they might have a chance of living freely. Some of the scenes were extremely hard to watch as not all of the refugees made it. One family comprised of a 2 year old girl, a mother, a father, a grandmother and an uncle tried to make a dash through the gates of the Japanese embassy in China in order to seek asylum. The men were supposed to push the guards aside at the embassy entrance so the women and child could make it through first but they panicked and just ran through. Consequently, the women and child were caught just as they were crossing the gate and arrested.  Thankfully, the Chinese allowed this particular family to go to South Korea as their escape was caught on camera and leaked to the media and they did not want the issue to get any further press. Another family in the documentary tried to legally claim refugee status by going through the official channels and making a plea for their lives but the Chinese police just used their information to locate them and send them to their deaths. The whole thing was highly disturbing to witness. North Korea basically came across as a large prison camp; not a country.

My apologies if that was distressing to read. I am a ridiculous human being who usually only writes about the absurd so I was debating whether or not I should even mention a subject of this gravitas. However, the lady who spoke to us wants her story to get out to raise awareness of the lack of human rights in North Korea so she asked us to use the internet to spread her tale. She herself can’t afford to be too high profile; she was unable to even give us her name because she fears for her safety and that of her family still living in North Korea. 

Next time I write I shall have news of a cheerier nature as I shall be attending the Boryeong Mud Festival soonly.

That is all.