Tall Tales From A Short Canadian

Hi,

While my photos will never do my experience of Beomeosa Temple justice, I am quite confident that some real gems await viewing on the two rolls of film I spent yesterday. All in all, this was the coolest thing I’ve seen in Korea so far. A 45 minute crowded subway ride and a 15 minute bus-ride up the mountain led me to one of the most reknowned Buddhist sites in Korea. I was immediately blown away by the mountain scenery. During the bus-ride, we gained a good deal of elevation, and despite the haze, I could see layers of mountains in the distance. The forest here was a real forest, with big, old-growth trees, mostly pines and gigantic bonsai-looking trees. I even saw two or three new species of birds, altough they evaded my pentax admirably. The temple itself was spectacular. It was kind of cool to see all these (sometimes vain and superficial) Koreans in their tight, google-getting clothes, high-heels, and make-up, getting right down and reverent in front of all the Buddha statues. I laughed at one point when a family entered a temple. Their shoes were parked neatly outside the temple doors, and at least one or two pairs were flashing (yeah, some of the shoes have light-bulbs here–a truly impressive and crucial improvement to footwear). It was a neat contrast.

Anyway, after googling (my word-of-the-month) with awe all of the lower temples, I decided to head up the trail behind the temples where I saw many Koreans, dressed as if they were about to ascend major peaks, heading up a rocky but well-marked trail. I followed. About twenty minutes up, I came to an off-shooting trail, and followed it. It brought me to a whole different temple set. Again, I hope my pictures work out, because this place was what my interest in Asia has always been about. Not only were the architecture, art, atmosphere, and altitude all awe-inspiring, but throw into the mix a chanting monk with a drum, a lack of tourists, bells bobbing and bonging in the mountain breeze, and millions of tiny lit candles glowing from several rocky apertures, and you end up with another world entirely. I sat outside of the main temple for close to an hour, listening to the singing monk and the chimes and admiring the rocky peaks around me. It was so refreshing to see a different side of Korea. Generally, it is the commercial side of Korea that screams endlessly into your senses here. And man, is it ugly! But this… this was priceless. I can’t wait to go back. Actually, I fully want to do a temple stay at this or another temple.

Anyway, I hope the pictures I took will turn out. I cannot wait to post them, but am still awaiting my first real paycheque before I can afford it. There were so many golden Buddha statues in all of those temples, ranging from miniature to monolithic, but I couldn’t with clean conscience bring myself to aim something clumsy and mechanical at representations of the Awakened One. I had many great photo opportunities involving monks and nuns going about their daily business, but elected not to take them either. I felt very anti-Buddha even carrying a camera around in place where people essentially work every moment of every day to detach themselves from cravings and habits. Cameras seem like extensions of man’s craving, craving to possess and control. As soon as you photograph something, it loses its Suchness, it becomes a representation of a representation… Ok shut up, Steve.

(I should add that I witnessed a Buddhist monk step out of his chambers and snap a picture of himself with a digital camera so as to assess how he looked. Hand-mirrors became obsolete here with the rise of digital cameras and cell-phones. Korea really is a land of contrasts).

So, having a bunch of poisons still knocking around inside of me, I decided to continue my ascent of the mountain. I was wearing old skate shoes and a casual jacket. Most of the hikers I passed eyed me with curiosity and disapproval, especially when they took into account that I was not wearing hiking boots, didn’t have gloves, knee-high socks, a hiking staff, or gortex of any kind. Was I crazy?! No. The trail was nearly as well-trodden as a city sidewalk, but these Koreans love their outdoor gear almost as much as their haendupones (hand-phones). And shit, they did look better than I did! So on and on I went, always up, until I hit the apex of the trail. Cool! I’d made it to Geumjeong Fortress, which I’d read about but actually had no intention of getting to today. I don’t know the whole history of it, but it consists of Four Gates (one of which you can see in my photo album) and a kind of down-sized great-wall-of-china type thing snaking along the hills and mountains. I cursed the smog, which was obscuring an expansive view of the valley below. The view I had, however, was still worth the hike. Had I continued, I could have visited more temples, seen more mountains, and viewed more of Korea’s largest fortress, but being out of shape and full of Friday’s toxins, I elected to enjoy a kimbap roll on a rock and begin to descend.

A family next to me (while I ate) googled (last time, ok?) me like I was an alien, or a freak-of-nature, perhaps. A kid, about 8 or 9 years old, exclaimed indiscreetly: “Yongoogin!”, which means British, or may mean anyone who speaks English (although I am usually refered to as “Megoogin”, which means American). He was going on about me and the family just stared and nodded. It made me wonder what it’d be like if this situation were reversed. Imagine: A lone Korean comes wandering into a heritage site in Canada and you’re sitting with your family having a picnic. “Look, it’s a Chinaman!” one of you shouts, pointing rudely, and you all just eat and stare. That kind of shit just wouldn’t fly back home. And yet, it is not uncommon here in Korea. Well, the little fucker wasn’t done with  me. When I dusted myself off and began walking towards the trail, the boy jumped up and said something to his family about  the Yongoogin, and started following me with a stick in his hand. He was just so loud and undisciplined (as I had been on Friday, come to think of it), and he was destroying the peace of mind I had achieved at the temple earlier. I raced down the trail, having fun bounding among the rocks, and the Korean boy, following at a distance, pretended to shoot me with his machine gun, as if he were playing the hunt-down-the-foreigner game (again, could we get away with that in Canada?). When I got around the bend and out of view, I seriously considered preparing myself to ambush the little puke, hopefully scaring him enough to make him piss his pants, but hearing the sound of his family not far behind him, and feeling all zen and shit, I decided to just go on with my day.

I went back to the second temple and tried to regain my peaceful feeling, but my brain was messy, and so I just went back down to the main site, snapped a few shots of the pagoda there, and jumped into a packed bus with the other sardines. While exhausting, the day was a big hit for me. I can’t wait to spend a weekend with those quiet, bald, introspective monks sometime.  

Sunday stands in great contrast to my Friday night. Following a dinner with friends, I had ended up at a  local, mostly expat bar call “Starface”, where for $15 you can drink all you want till 3 AM. A three piece band (consisting of good looking, scantily-clad Korean women… not nearly as hot as you, though, Nic!) kicked off the night playing pop melodies on violins and cellos, and they were followed by a tight jazz-blues fusion band. Great night, but oh the price! All weekend, my polluted brain had my Buddha-Nature lost in smog!

BEOMEOSA

GEUMJEONG

Happy Chinese New Year,

Tee Cha Su Tee Bun