Korean War Memorial Visit

"War divides the country" is the more accurate, and less used, way to describe Korea. After all, the uneasy truce that created the Demilitarized Zone, was a cease-fire, not a peace treaty. Cessation? Often illusion; numerous attempts on executives' and citizens' lives have been made by the North for the past forty years, and continue today. Seoul didn't always have a top-rated international airport, Jongno Tower, or even the perpetual "armpit" (Lonely Planet) that is Itaewon ... in most of our Parent's lives, it doubled as capital city and wasteland ... a role it's held for hundreds of years. As I type this I sit in a valley between mountains that nearly perfectly geographically divided the country, hence was a strategic target throughout the fighting. The weathered faces that hock radishes in the market have seen more suffering than most care to elucidate.

But the Koreans I've encountered don't use the "proper" terminology to connote threat or fear so much as hope. Everywhere there are cries that the bloodline "will" be reunited. Only once realpolitik takes the forum floor is that hope winded. A massive and determinative war, or even a regime collapse that results in a flood of refugees--neither of these are pretty pictures to those whose mandatory military service reminds them of what life could be like.

Metaphorically also Korea (South) is a divided country. Traditional markets and BMWs, G20 membership and FTAs ... but today I drop the metaphoric for the literal. Oddly enough what brought me to Seoul that weekend was an ATEK meeting, a meeting for those expats who, displeased with foreigner abuse, seek to share information that can be used in the spars of litigation. Having a few hours to burn I visited the War Memorial before the meeting.

Quickly I noticed the conflict between somber rememberance and capitalistic opportunity. There's a wedding hall at the war memorial.

Actually, two.

Let me repeat that:

There are two wedding halls located at the memorial to a war that is still technically ongoing, a war that tore a country in half for forty years and counting.

(Korean wedding etiquette is something deserving of its own post, and I'll get to that in another catch-up post over my vacation.)

But I digress.

Ignoring the Wedding Hall there are numerous displays of arms and maps, ranging from ancient to modern. Most interesting about the War Memorial is that it is not exclusively about the 20th century conflict we know as the "Korean War." It is about war, in Korea, since the time of arrowheads and spears. Since Goguryo was invaded by Baekjae and then Silla and the Mongols crushed Baekjae, and went on to take Goguryo, unifying the three Kingdoms into "Goryeo," which gave Korea its name ... some hundreds of years ago.

I could keep commenting but often the symbolism is obvious and the words are vacant. The flickr photostream is here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/badukkong/sets/72157623028162228/.

And I would like to thank the Korean government for offering gas-mask use training in English. I walk past the glass cases of emergency equipment every time I take the subway in Seoul, it's only with an odd ease that, like most around me, I assume their use will remain unnecessary for years to come.

A Muesum Without Walls, Part 4: Yangdong Folk Village

At Golgulsa, one of my roommates highly recommended the Yangdong Folk Village outside of Gyeongju.

The folk village previously had not made my radar as it was (1) a half hour bus ride plus a half hour walk outside of Gyeongju and (2) a folk village, which could not, to my mind, guarantee much more than the shopping of the folk craft village.

I was wrong.

Yangdong folk village, though not readily accessible, is a stunning collection of Joseon dynasty homes, lecture halls, and other buildings. Its noteworthiness comes in its scope (taking hours to walk through), its preservation of commoners' hut-like dwelling homes, and the fact that some of the homes are even still occupied. Occasionally a halmoni will glance up from her television while you photograph her house.

We arrived and were greeted by a bilingual volunteer guide who directed us to the four national treasures contained in the village and gave us English guidemaps. We mentioned we were hungry and she walked us to the restaurants. (There are only two restaurants in the village to preserve its character.)

On our way into the restaurant, a man offered us slices of peach (not cheap), and we sat down. We had a very nice doenchangcchige (like miso soup but thicker and with more veg and tofu) and p'ajeon (spring onion pancake with soy dipping sauce) and side dishes for ... the same price those things would have been in Wonju. The two allowed restaurants in Yangdong serve great food and don't gouge you!

This naturally put us in a good and we headed out to explore the village to be greeted by ... the bilingual volunteer! She had walked back up to the restaurant area to offer to give us a personal guided tour, in our native language, of the village!

(Perhaps now I should mention there is no entry fee for the village, so this was all "gratis.")

She took us to the varied historical treasures in the village, and explained the very human history of the village. Though a Confucian village, Yangdong is known as the son-in-law village because it is where men would go live with their wives' families. The two founding families were competitive, each building up successive pavilions and lecture halls such that the village has about seven times as many as would be expected.

We toured traditional humble restrooms (mud hut, straw roof, hole), luxurious houses with separate male and female quarters, and the hillside and valleys along the way. Our guide told us how to make a stomach-soothing drink from maeshil (plums) and sugar.

About three hours later, we had seen the national treasures and most of the village. Our guide politely disembarked, and we headed back to the restaurants to try the recommended cheongju (filtered rice wine). We went to the other of our two options, and had a significant quantity of wine as well as very, very nice kim chi and tofu for a mere 12k won.

From there, we walked back down the highway parallel to the railroad tracks to our bus stop, snapped a few photos and went home.

But to reiterate: 24k won (under $20 US) spent, four hours entertainment, food, history, and a guided tour. Definitely on the "recommended" list.

[Photos on Flickr but not yet grouped.]

[Ed: Pic of humble homes in Yangdong.]

Thngs to do in Seoul, Part 4: The National Museum

The National Museum

***The Archaelogical Gallery

“There’s too much stuff there. After a while you just think, ‘It’s another broken cup. Great.’ "

My friend’s take is a rather popular way of seeing the National Museum. Six wings large, the permanent collection is quite imposing and not something that can be seen in full, even in a 10-hour day.

But you don't have to see all of it--the price is right. (See subsequent post.)

And besides, if you like broken cups, and rusted iron swords, the archaelogical wing can't be beat. When I went there I found myself learning about not only Korean history, but history of the world. The evolution of societies from stone to metal was reinforced in well-translated English; the examples were purely Korean, illustrating the change from period to period with "broken cups" and "rusted swords."

Most of my three trips (timeline detailed infra) were spent in this gallery, and I learned much of the Three Kingdoms, the Goreyo period (from which Korea gets its Western name), Unified Silla, and the ever-well-represented Joseong kingdom.

Of the five other hallowed halls of this museum, I have only explored two, due to the time constraints. (Three trips totalling roughly eight hours.)

***Historical Gallery

It has history. Lots of it. Sadly when I went the Hageul wing was closed, prohibiting me from learning about one of the world’s most recently invented languages. However there were numerous other exhibits, including a temporary exhibition about the “Tea-Horse Road,” a road traveled by Tibetans to central China to exchange their legendary horses for fine tea.

Most of what I saw was on my way out the door (it was nearly closing time), so now I’ll move on to something I saw in much greater detail:

*** Second Fine Arts Gallery

The buddhist art inside the Second Fine Arts Gallery is fantastic. Fantastic. Fantastic.

The collection is expansive but inclusive, from two-inch undetailed sculptures created during buddhism's prohibition to larger-than-life stone bodhisattvas, there is no better place (even my beloved Buddhist Art Museum) to explore Korean buddhist art.

The presentation of the works cannot be matched. I've strolled through museums too open to feel as though you were seeing anything; more commonly, I've felt overwhelmed by the amount of information surrounding me (as is easy to do in historical museums). Rarely, however, have I stepped through a narrow hall to revere a singular sculpture in meticulous lighting and feel my jaw drop.

That explanation of my sensation does little justice to the Pensive Bodhissatva that occupies his own room in the National Museum. The playful downcast look and detailed sculpting justifies its inclusion in the expansive National Treasure collection but it was the museum’s tasteful presentation that took its viewing up another step, to a truly emotional and memorable experience.

***Best part about the museum.

IT'S FREE MOST OF THE YEAR. I forget the exact dates, something like April to October, but most of the year, it is free. During the heat and torrential downpours of summer I don't really care to be outside anyway.

The Most Important Thing in or near Seoul or in Korea for That Matter: Nanum

If you are in Korea on a Saturday when they are giving tours in your language, go to Nanum. Yes, I am telling you to go to Seoul despite my last post. Yes, it will take most of your Saturday. No, it will not educate you on architecture or history before 1950. Yes, it is well off the beaten path. And yes, if you buy postcards there you will have trouble deciding who to send them to.

It is, however, possibly the most important thing to do in Korea.

So what is Nanum? It's the "House of Sharing." House of sharing what? The war past. But not the usual numbers-and-brutality war past. Very specific pasts. Very disturbing pasts.

It is a house where a few surviving halmonis (elderly women, lit., "grandmothers") tell their tales of being abducted and forced into sexual slavery in World War II.

But they weren't abducted by just anyone. They were abducted under orders of the Japanese government. (For those who don't know, Korea was a Japanese colony in the years before WWII.)

The Japanese government does not admit that this happened.

Despite numerous scholars (mostly Japanese, employed by mostly Japanese universities) finding and following paper trails to show that the girls were accounted for, like property, within the Japanese army, despite further paperwork showing the minimal medical care (designed to keep them alive and little more) was provided by the army, despite the testimony of Japanese soldiers that the rapes were government-sanctioned, and despite the living testimony of these halmonis, the Japanese government will not admit that official responsibility exists for the systemized kidnapping and rape.

The Japanese government, much like an insurance company, has offered money without admission of liability.

That money was rejected.

Some Japanese officials have made their denials particularly stern, sticking to the story that the women were willing prostitutes who followed the camps of soldiers to sell themselves.

The women tell a slightly different story. One of being taken at gunpoint by Japanese soldiers (sometimes, sadly, both Japanese and Korean soldiers). One of having their arms burned for sport by the cigarettes of high-ranking officials. Of serving fifty (50) soldiers in a day at the rate of ten minutes a soldier and the next soldier waiting, pants disengaged, outside the door.

As stated, the paper trail corroborates the women's version and refutes the Japenese government's denial.

Though the living women who have cut through the shame to tell their story are few, the trails (of paper or soldier testimony) of abducted women are in the thousands--spanning several countries and no doubt hundreds of casualties.

The Nanum grounds (donated by a buddhist organization just a few years ago) also house a museum that stores documentation of the official nature of the abductions and rapes, as well as disturbing recreations of their quarters.

The museum ends with the artwork of the halmonis, which you can purchase in postcard or book form. But as said, the face of the person to whom you sent a painting postcard would not likely rise, if that person was capable of empathy.

Luck permitting, you will then meet a halmoni. Health failing, the days of live testimony are growing rarer and rarer; failing live testimony, you will watch a DVD with their testimonies contained therein.

When I went, I was lucky enough to be invited into the house afterwards. To meet women whose bodies had been through multiple transplants (due to untreated diseases years ago), whose wrinkles were many, yet who still were spry enough to demand money when the tour guide suggested a photograph, and who insisted I sit as they stand and offered me tea.

Every Wednesday they protest outside the Japanese embassy. Just this year, the State of California passed a resolution acknowledging their suffering and officially demanding an apology from Japan. George W. Bush had the audacity to accept an official apology from Japan, and the number of people--Korean, Japanese, or otherwise--who are demanding that apology be redirected to those who were offended is growing. After a few hours spent (and a donation of your choice), you can join their ranks.

www.nanum.org