Golgulsa Temple Stay (Third Day)

At 4:00 a.m., crawling up a hill in the dark, you begin counting the hours until you leave boot camp temple. Your legs move out of stubborn will but remind you with every step that they'd rather not.

Eventually you make it to chanting, and follow along on the slow chant even though you're reading hangeul. Feeling brave, you try the same on the fast chant (for the musicians, think: syllables at around 140/minute or so) and quickly are lost. Out of boredom you make up your own words, partially cathartic, and partially reviewing recently-learned Korean words:

paegop'ayo, p'igonhaeyo,
sundubu chige meoggoship'eoyo, chagoship'oyo
ilbangt'onghaeng means "one-way street"
pissan ieyo, kakka juseyo
man-on, man-on, kakka juseyo
tari apayo, manhi apayo
(repeat)

English:
I'm hungy, I'm tired
I want to eat soft tofu stew, I want to sleep
"ilbang tonghang" means one-way street
that's expensive, give me a discount
10k won, 10k won, give me a discount
my legs hurt, they hurt a lot

And so on. The second full day, apart from the tiredness (lack of sleep) and aching body wasn't terribly distinguishable from the first but for the 108 bows.

The 108 bows, or baek-pal bae, are done to show humility, contemplate mistakes, and reflect on the decision to live rightly. These are not waist-bows. These are feet-together, in a controlled motion (read: using the legs) fall to the knees, press head to the floor, stand up in another controlled motion (same leg muscles), and repeat for 20 minutes bows. By halfway through your cushion is sweat-stained by your forehead. And then you have lunch, archery, chores, and training.

An aside on archery would fit nicely here, so I'm going to throw it in. It's fun. It's exhausting. Just pulling the bowstring back takes a fair bit of arm and back strength. Letting it fly with accuracy while you're shaking from the effort isn't easy by any means. Proper technique is essential--small failures result in scraped thumbs (from the arrow, your thumb acts as a bridge), or reddened arms (from the bowstring snapping them).

The rest of this story is pretty much the same, and will be omitted, as I am trying to keep this brief because there was a centipede on the cubicle next to me in the PC bang, now it is out of sight, and I fear it will pop up from the keyboard when I am not looking, and I will scream. More on Golgulsa and my return to Gyeongju (and the very excellent Yangdong folk village) soon.

[Pic: Sunmudo training center.]

Golgulsa Temple Stay (Second Day)

We were told that we would need to get up at 4:00 a.m. (with our "wake-up call") and could not be late for chanting at 4:30, so naturally I set a back-up alarm.

There was no need.

A monk hitting a wooden block and chanting quite loudly circumambulating our room at 4:00 sharp. We hiked up three stories or so on a steep hill to meet the

Schedule, in brief:

4:30 chanting.
5:00 sitting meditation (30 minutes)

At 5:30, we did walking meditation and stretched when we reached a clearing at the bottom of the field. We then hiked back up the hill to have our breakfast.

I should take an aside here to marvel at Golgulsa's layout. It is truly a place where everything is uphill, both ways. The temple is structured like a V, with the cafeteria building at the bottom the V. It is uphill to each peak of the V, and the dorms are halfway up the left side. The dorms are, however, beneath the temple where morning chant is held, and morning chant is beneath the pagoda where walking meditation first goes. Hence you go uphill to chant and uphill to walking meditation. Then, having gone downhill during walking meditation, you go uphill for food and then further uphill (to the "chant room") for 108 bows.

These are not tiny hills. These are three-to-six story hills that you would not want to go down on on anything with wheels. These hills hurt.

What about training? Well, that's up the other side of the "V." (the right side). So, going from your dorm to the training center means going downhill, to go up, and going back involves the same (but more uphill).

Returning to my first full day, we had our breakfast (rice, kim chi, and tofu--tofu was a once-a-day treat), and had an hour and a half of "relaxed" sunmudo training. By relaxed, I mean there were spells of sitting and lying meditation. We did not kick or punch. We stretched and held poses. Poses like supporting your whole body on your forearms and tiptoes. For a full minute. Or until you collapsed. Nice, kind, easy, "relaxed" training.

Then, instead of returning to the chant room to do 108 bows (explained later), we were told we would go hiking. A compatriot who was finishing a month-long stay said, "it's got to be better than bowing," and we were off. We were hiking up a trail about 200 vertical meters, and took about 90 minutes total time to climb the hill, turn around, and descend through another path. Along the way we saw mushrooms of varying colors, from tan and gray to a rather bright purple-pink, and some so sizable they would substitute for small birdbaths. We looked out on forested hills and small villages, and talked briefly in broken Konglish. When we got back we were too late for tea but ready to go to lunch.

Needless to say, at this time, I thought my legs hurt. The next two days would teach me a lot.

Actually, this day would teach me a lot. We had archery (fun!) at 2:00, chores (weeding) at 3:00, and dinner (rice, kim chi, and something) after a short nap. Then we had "hard" sunmudo training. Bear walking on your knuckles is painful, the same on fingertips is incredibly difficult, and duck walking after a day of hills ... well I have to admit I wussed out and just walked like a human, despite some respiteful glares from our instructor.

Then it was time for bed.

The next day I would start to appreciate my legs more, and make up my own chanting words.

[Pic: Mushroom convex and large enough to be a small birdbath, diamater probably around my waist size (30" / 75 cm).]

Golgulsa Temple Stay (Overview, First Day)

Monday at about 4 p.m: I arrived at Golgulsa, a fairly secluded temple far to the East of Gyeongju. Golgulsa is most famous for teaching Sunmudo to outsiders. What is Sunmudo? A combination of Taekwondo and buddhist principles. A combat-ineffective, gymnastic, incredibly demanding martial art designed to harmonize body and mind and challenge the practitioner.

Pros and Cons, in short:

Pro: Best kim chi I've ever had, and damn good rice.
Con: For every meal, inluding breakfast.
Pro: Meals included in room fare.
Con: See above.
Pro: Excellent martial arts training.
Con: For three hours a day on top of all the hill walking you're doing. Not optional.
Pro: 40k won (per day) for everything.
Con: Late for anything=1080 bows.

In detail:
Golgulsa is a martial arts temple, without a doubt. Punctuality is revered, from the 4:30 a.m. chanting to the 10:20 108 bows to the 8:30 p.m. training before bed. Golgulsa specializes in "turning around" troubled children, with a combination of excessive demands and infinite patience. I personally witnessed four slacker high-schoolers sleep through things and show up late, to be told, kindly, that they now had more work to do.

As for the rest of us? Well, as I said, I began my day at about 5 starting with dinner. The finest kim chi I've had, rice, and some sides. A few hours later was training. "Excited" would understate my mindset.

The session began with stretching and "balance poses." The instructor grabbed one foot with one hand and stuck the other hand up in the air. We followed suit. He extended his leg to be perfectly straight, at a 90 degree angle. I tried my best. To emphasize that this difficult pose was only a step, he then moved his extended leg so that it was perfectly vertical. He was doing standing splits in front of us while we hopped and moaned, trying to extend our legs.

But then stretching ended and punching began. One punch at a time, easy. Three, getting tired. Five? Was tired already. Ten, in rapid succession? Gave all I had. Felt it in my shoulders for the next two days.

Then we kicked. We held the kicks at first, learning odd squatting transitional poses, and clapping our hands together inbetween kicks (we then would extend our hands with our legs, or splay our hands to our sides for added effect). Hana, dul, set, net .., we did several sets of ten, until thoroughly exhausted. We ended with tai-chi like slow-motion poses, focusing on breathing and relaxation.

Having survived the training, I was exhilirated. Gradually over the next few days my muscles would remind me that 90 minutes was a far cry from 4 days.

[Pic: The stone buddha carved into Golgulsa.]

A Museum Without Walls, Part 3: Gyeongju (Folk Craft Village, Bulguksa, and to Golgulsa)

Monday in Gyeongju was my last day getting up after 4:00 a.m., my last day not having kim chi for breakfast, and my last day feeling my legs (and liking it) for four days that went far too fast but seemed like an eternity.

I got up at a reasonable hour and took a bus to Bulguksa, a famous temple East of Gyeongju. Like most temples, this one has been largely rebuilt, but rebuilt to exacting specifications. Like most temples, it sits atop a wooded hill (like the hill I would soon curse) and looks out upon beautiful scenery, has astounding sculptures and architecture, and all in all was an amazing, and reasonably priced (4k won), experience.

Bulguksa was beautiful, if swarming with tourists, and this entry is mostly an excuse to place-save for picture links in the future. My apologies.

(FYI the "Folk Craft Village" was great for shopping, but not for folk existence--the Yangdong folk village in Part 4 was far better.)

[Pic: Bulguksa]

A Museum Without Walls, Part 2: Gyeongju (Anapji, observatory, Museum, Namsan)

My second day in Gyeongju was a predictable but enjoyable tourist's path through the "major" hits.

First, I should really lavish more praise on Gyeongju. It is to Korea what Kyoto is to Japan: Not the first city you'd think of, but easy to navigate, tourist-friendly, and historically rich.

Walking slightly further than I had yesterday, I initially saw (even more) historical burial mounds set against mountain forestry in the background. Having grown accustomed to such scenery, I proceeded quickly to Cheongseomdae, the East's oldest observatory. Though appearing little more than an awkward oversized stone pillar, each piece is carefully thought out--the base, each story of the tower, and its facing all are calculated to correlate to months, days, and the year.

Shortly past Cheongseomdae was Anapji Pond, and the path to Anapji was a trail through varied gardens, including water lilies so plentiful that the waterway was hidden. Anapji itself (on a vacation weekend) was a very crowded tourist draw, but still the faithfully reconstructed buildings reflecting off the pond were quite beautiful, and there were well-kept and kindly displayed Shilla-era relics (from incense burners to cups to a game die) within the building.

The third stop was the Gyeongju National Museum. Having relegated only a few hours to this museum, I could only view a couple of the buildings, and listen to the recording of a temple bells beautiful and haunting overtones. (More on that, and TV coverage of it, in a later post.) Suffice to stay its collection, being spread out among multiple buildings is less imposing than the National Museums', but still is rich and English-friendly.

Now it was time for lunch. A nearby place offered ssam-cheong-shik (rice eaten in greens with lots of side dishes) at a reasonable price and then I was off to Namsan.

Namsan is reachable by both bus or foot from Gyeongju, but not knowing the bus routes (and having an abundance of energy), I went by foot. The small portion that I hiked in 3 hours (the Lonely Planet has courses spanning 8 hours) included a stone buddha sculpture in a buddhist nunnery, and Korea's largest collection of buddhist relief carvings--on a single rock (but yes, a different rock from the aforementioned sculpture). Trails were not particularly well marked but locals were helpful. Bathrooms were ... special.

Which brings me to another point. The hostel I stayed in these two nights was also "special." Generally well rated (but docked for cleanliness), I can assure you the detractors are not being overly critical. No bedbugs, no roachs, but that's about all I can say. It was a bed, though, which was more than I'd have the next three days, as I was about to be the victim (though glad) of a boot camp billed as a "temple stay."

[Pictures forthcoming.]

[Ed: Pic from the National Museum.]

A Museum Without Walls, Part 1: Gyeongju (Introduction)

As you may have noticed and probably don't care, I haven't posted in a while. The reason is, I have been in and aroung Gyeongju, touring on my vacation.

Gyeongju is, according to the lonely planet, known as the "museum without walls" due to the incredible amount of visible history in and around the city. Gyeongju itself was the capital of the Shilla kingdom, the kingdom that unified the three kingdoms of the Three Kingdoms period (1st to 6th century) and led through the Unified Shilla period in the 7th through 10th centuries. As Buddhism was the official religion of Shilla, there are ample temples and buddhist relics in addition to the tombs of royalty and scientific advances that can be observed here.

My first day, I took the train from Wonju (17k won, 4 hours, nice views and a 1000 won/10 minute massaging chair available) and walked through Noseo-dong and Tumuli Park, both of which house Shilla tomb mounds viewable by the public. Royal tombs themselves are, externally, little more than large hills. The wooden coffin is at the center, followed by layers of brick and mud, and centuries of green overgrowth that today is nothing more than grass in a park. However, within Tumuli Park there is also Cheonmachong, an excavated tomb which visitors can enter to see replicated structure and remnants of a king's burial chamber.

Near these parks is Kisoya, a wonderful fusion Japanese restaurant. The staff spoke enough English to substitute vegetables for fish in my meal and the Korean-brewed sake-like-drink was refreshing, if a bit pricey (6k won for a small bottle).

The next day is the real story, as it was then, with more time, that I saw Anapji Pond (a reconstructed group of historical buildings), the Gyeongju national museum, the Far East's oldest observatory, and hiked around the Namsan mountains to the South.

[Pictures forthcoming when I can upload them, I'm at a PC bang near the Gyeongju bus terminals and have no usb cable or card reader with me.]

[Ed: Picture of tomb from Gyeongju.]

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.