Chueseok (Day Two)

The View of the City from the Top

The view of some mountains from close to the top

One of Beatrice's numerous puppies

Beatrice, standing tall, udders-a-blowin'

As I said earlier, I'm just not going to have the time to compound all that happened over this weekend into one post, so here's what happened on Sunday:

Marie and I had talked about doing a temple visit the previous night, one that she hadn't been to yet, and so after an early lunch at McDonald's (you have to go every now and then just to maintain sanity), we hit up the subway once again. No real stories about this trip down the tracks that I can remember.

Seongnam Temple, about a 40 minute bus ride from Busan, was considerably less tourist-filled than Beomeosa and Tongdosa, despite the fact that we were visiting on a major Korean holiday. I preferred the lighter crowd, since it allowed me to take pictures without constantly feeling guilty of intruding on what is typically a spiritually-integral affair for most visiting. Of course, these pictures will be posted as soon as I arrive back from school.

I've visited three temples at this point, and to be honest, it's difficult for me to really distinguish much between them all. There's always a certain awe you carry when you visit these places, because of the natural beauty, the spiritual significance, and the cola machines that somehow rest a few feet from buildings that have been being used in Buddhist ceremonies for God knows how long. Certain aspects of each do stand out; for instance, Beomeosa has a botanical garden that's gorgeous if you're into that shit, plus it has a remarkably-small cave temple filled with miniature statues.

The highlight of the the Seongnam visit came from our climb up Gajisan Mountain. Leaving the temple area, we followed a trail up to what seemed like a Third World village, with houses that looked near the point of collapse, picked crops smashed along the dirt, and most noticeably, a pack of what seemed like rabid dogs. The first of the canines to approach us was a white female Jindo with mammaries hanging down several inches from her underbelly, and after she let out a few violent barks, her owner stepped out and waved us to go through the town and up the mountain. As we walked past the three houses that comprised the community, dogs--mostly puppies-- began appearing from every nook and cranny to growl and yelp at us. The whole time, the first dog (who we lovingly named "Beatrice" based on a story that Marie was telling me earlier in the day) pranced a few feet in front of us, content in leading us along.

Gajisan wasn't more than a two hour hike really, and probably translated to about 3 kilometers (at most). Unlike every other mountain that I've hiked here though, the traffic was non-existent; if you go to any of the major mountains in Busan, you're more than likely going to be amongst a sea of people as you travel up, but I don't think Marie and I saw more than five people the entire trip up, three of whom were Buddhist nuns. Despite the mosquitos and the badly-marked trail, Gajisan has easily topped any of the other hikes that I've been on in Korea.

And so much of this was due to Beatrice... I'd imagine that she was specially trained to guide pasty-faced tourists up the mountain, but if ever I were to be convinced that animals possessed spirits and true intelligence, this would be the time. Whenever we arrived at a fork in the trail, Bea would be waiting for us, and would then promptly lead us onward. Every now and then we thought she had left us behind, but without fail, she'd come galloping down the mountain only to end up behind us, almost as if she was taunting us for being so fuckin' slow. An all-rock jury rigged rest stop sat about 30 minutes from the top of Gajisan, and when Marie and I stopped there to do things inappropriate, Bea watched on; once we were ready to move again, she took lead. No scenic vista from whatever-the-fuck mountain peak could ever compete with the experience of being guided by this dog, and for that alone, I give my highest recommendation to hit up Gajisan.

When we got back down, the scenes of poverty that we nearly fleed from earlier instead seemed painfully beautiful. The puppies that once growled at us (and with rabies apparently being a huge problem in rural Korea, this had us concerned) were now playing along the trail. The owner who had once seemed a tad drunk now came across as some Doolittle-ish animal savant. Bea, of course, came by once more before we left and gave us the same tongue-hanging grin that you see in the included photo. I don't throw out the word "magical" often, because I'm well aware of how gay it makes me sound, but our climb up Gajisan could be described in few other words.

More photos on the proceeding post... sorry for the wait on this one, bro.

Chu-Seok

Duders, where do I begin on what has been one of the most surreal and entertaining long weekends of my life? I suppose I should start with Saturday, since that's when it began:

Saturday

Marie and I had plans to hit up the Busan Municipal Art Museum, which currently housed an exhibit from the British Museum. Her phone call reminding me of this woke me up from a mild hangover from the previous night's PNU excursion, and two cans of iced coffee (which can be had for ridiciously cheap ($1.30 for a six pack) here compared to the States) later I was ready to go. We hopped a train, discussed the latest episode of "Dancing Subway", and got coughed on by an older Korean man who wasn't kosher with us talking on the subway. (Note: Talking on the subway here is considered to be a minor faux pas, but every now and then you'll come across someone who takes these things incredibly seriously, so just be warned). The exhibit was solid enough, even though I'm certainly not the cultured type who could truly extoll beyond saying empty and vapid things. The art stolen by the Brits spanned time and space, touching on everything from the Mesopotamians to the Native Americans, and while the museum was a touch different from my typical getaways (video arcades, theaters, whatever), I had a good time. It helped that Marie studied Classics in Rome and knows her shit pretty well; she's an ideal museum companion.

From there we hit up the UN Sculpture Park and took a quick glance over the UN Cemetary... we didn't feel compelled to go inside because it would have been a somber way to end what had been an enjoyable day, but I do think I'll go there at some point while I'm here.

On our way back to the subway station, we decided to stop in a convenience mart to try some beverages that we weren't yet familiar with. (Note: There are a ton of new choices available to the beverage connoisseur, including pine needle drinks, aloe juices, and cinnamon sodas (which to me taste like Hostess Coffee Cakes in liquid form)). Inside, there was a man drinking dongdongjeu by himself, watching Korean cartoons. I didn't think twice about it until he invited me to sit with him and drink. At first I was bashful, but he seemed excited to have some foreigners in the shop and was offering free alcohol (and dried squid, but let's not talk about that) so there was no way I was going to turn him down.

Any conversation with a Korean usually begins with, "Where are you from?" At first I would answer, "St. Louis," but it's become increasingly clear that nobody knows where that is, so when asked by the guy in the convenience store, I just said, "Chicago." This, of course, led to a long discussion on baseball, especially a former Cub named Hee Sop Choi... and whenever I say something was a long discussion, that usually means a few words of English, a lot of nodding, and a slew of awkward gesturing in attempts to get our messages across. The guy, Marie, and I managed to get through seven bottles of dongdongjeu (and three bags of dried squid), all while random stoppers-by stared at us wild foreigners as they picked up their gum, soda, and so on. Other highlights of our drunken afternoon with the convenience mart guy:

A brief dance-off between Marie and I where I showed him how to do the fake splits and she showed him how to Canadian line-dance

A demonstration he gave to us on the powers of Tae Kwon Do, only to ask me later on how to box (implied by shouts of "Muhammad Ali! Muhammad Ali!")

Three different kinds of cheers: "Gumbae!", "Bravo!", and the more standard "Cheers!", all delivered at random

He constantly referred to me as "Mr. John", and later as "Handsome boy! Mr. John!"

Most cheers were to baseball, Muhammad Ali, and "Handsome boy", but at one point he threw out there (just to see if we would notice), "Bush-y President! Bravo!" It caught me a little off guard.

Our afternoon was finished when the man had finished his shift at the store (I suppose he was working this entire time). Marie and I headed to the subway, where I suggested that perhaps I was slightly enamored with her. Just like in a Cameron Crowe film, we made out in the middle of the subway station, and that was that.

(I know I'm behind on my blog, and again, there's a lot of information to get across. I'm going to stop this entry here, and I'll discuss Sunday's craziness next time.)

(Note: The pictures of the Security Guard singing karaoke were taken from a competition being held in the Lotte Department Store. He seriously cried on stage... it was awesome. The photo of the fish signage also comes from the grocery section of the Lotte Department Store; it reads as follows:

"Fish is the flesh of fish eaten as food. Fish can be fiddly to cook. A fish steak is a large piece of fish which contains very little bones."

This is now my fuckin' mantra. And yes, I am really drunk and really sweaty in my picture with the convenience store guy... it's not my proudest moment)