I woke early Saturday morning to hit the trails early. I was first, as usual—the sun had just risen (sort of…it was overcast) and the air was chilly, so that coupled with the diminutive nature of the park village lead to few people, especially early in the morning. I poked around Naesosa Temple first and then headed up the trail. Again, I evaded entrance fees by waking early J. The temple was pretty neat, but its shop was even more enticing for me…they had so many tea sets, and they were so beautiful! Alas, they were not open yet, so I decided I had to come back that way to check it out that afternoon. I climbed to the ridgeline and saw my first people of the day—two older women who must work at the temple, judging by their clothing. I had a couple maps, but I really had no idea where I was going. The maps I had all lacked elevation and distance indicators, and I also suspected some areas of the park might be closed, since it is supposedly fire season in Korea (this, even though it’s rained the past couple days now). Since the park was so small, though, and I wanted to see everything, it seemed the day would require quite a bit of climbing up and down. I decided to stick to the ridge at first—I wanted to make sure I saw everything up there first, before I descended. I managed to do the portion behind the temple, but then the trail was closed off for fire protection. Thwarted again! I had to retrace my steps, and then I climbed down into the main valley to Jikso waterfall, which was entirely devoid of water at the time. Still, it was an interesting sight. I got some good pictures at the reservoir downstream, too. By this point, the skies had begun to clear and hordes of hikers had started meandering the trails. Most of them appeared to be going the opposite direction—from the trailhead below the waterfall to Naesosa Temple, or Wolmyeongam Hermitage to Naesosa. I am pretty sure I was the only one stupid enough to travel all of the available trails twice, but that is what I did. I wandered to the trail junction below the waterfall and turned to the hermitage, which required another steep climb. I’m usually not much of a temple-seeker—they often seem to be so much the same for me—but this weekend was different. I saw some truly fabulous temples. Then again, maybe I was different—maybe I had more patience or was more open to the experience than I have been. Whatever the case, the hermitage was splendid. The buildings were colorful and attractive—they seemed to have more dragon motifs than most, and must have just received a coat of paint—and it had an absolutely stunning view of the park, as it was situated high on a steep hillside that opened to the mountains in every direction. Sunrise here must be incredible as it peeks over the park. Best of all, they had a huge barrel of lotus leaf tea for the taking—just what I needed in the noon chill! I had run out of water, but this was even better. I don’t know how they brewed it, but it tasted better than the stuff I make ever does. There was a faint aftertaste of apple cider to it—strange, but delicious.
And then I headed back the way I came. It was easy at first, since I headed downhill, but climbing back up to the ridge on an empty stomach with 15 km on my legs was more difficult. I did pass several groups of older Korean men and they were surprised to see me power past them, I think. I was going faster than was perhaps advisable, but I figured the end was in sight and I’d soon be resting on a bus, anyway. The downhill was sweet for sure.
I really liked this park a lot, even though it was small. I’d love to go back and do the sections that were closed off. The terrain is so rocky that there are many places to sit and enjoy the sea and mountain view—rare in Korean parks that are so heavily forested. It seemed there was a perfect picnic nook every 100 feet! And I have to go back and look for tea sets, too…when I got there, I realized I had next to no money left and couldn’t afford to buy anything, except some well-deserved soondubu (a type of tofu stew) and, of course, persimmons. At least now I know how to get to the park, and it’s not all that far away, either.
I proceeded to spend an absurd amount of time busing to the next park, Seonunsan, which was probably 20 minutes away by car but a direct bus connection was not available. I’m sure it could have been easier than I made it, but I’m really not familiar with the cities in this province at all, so I stuck with the bigger cities to ensure connections. I made it that evening, which is all I’d hoped for, anyway. With darkness descending at five, there’s little afternoon hiking to be had these days. I was surprised by the size and vitality of the tourist village at the base of the temple, especially compared to the one I’d just left. This was only a provincial park and naturally I’d expected it to be smaller—the entry in my guidebook had been much smaller, too—but not so. There were many huge hotels, several noraebang, and a whole line of restaurants…and this was just in the portion near the bus stop! I saw on the way out that there were many more restaurants along the road, along with several nice-looking pensions. I’m not sure what goes into renting a pension, but I’d be tempted to do so here…they looked luxurious. Besides, I LOVED this park…I’m DEFINITELY going back! It was difficult to find a room, though. The place was hoppin and prices were high. I managed to get a room for 30,000 won by telling them I was alone and making a sad face. As usual, they had to explain to me what a fabulous deal I was getting. I don’t know why, but it seems whenever I buy something the sellers go to great length to tell me what the original price is and what I’m getting it for. I really don’t care—just give it to me! It seems so silly to tell me that the bag of apples is usually 6000 won and I’m getting it for 5000, especially when most of them seem think I don’t understand a word, anyway. Speaking of which—I definitely had a lot of people try to talk to me this weekend. They seem more friendly when I’m alone—maybe because they feel pity for me. Koreans don’t understand solitude. Anyway, without exception everyone was impressed with my very meager skills. My fellow expats must be doing terribly with the language if I am able to get this much praise! I’m usually embarrassed to say how long I’ve been here already, with the conversational skills I have—or rather, lack!
Alone in the hotel room that night, I watched some TV. Unfortunately, the only thing in English was an absolutely terrible reality TV show called Pirate Master. It was just agonizing to watch how the show exploited human greed and encouraged the participants to backstab each other on their way to a half million dollar prize. I read a short story recently in which the main character makes this observation: "People have put a man on the moon. A wonderful achievement, but still there is hatred based on class and race and when we read about such cruelty and hatred, it seems as if it is about the Christians and their Crusades centuries ago. Which of these phenomena, I wonder, reflects humanity? What does progress really mean?" And I say: There are so many amazing things being done in the world—people giving their time, their energy, their money, to people less fortunate in an effort to help them. Idealism is rampant, especially among my generation. But then there are shows like this. What reflects humanity in this case? What is the natural human impulse? Are we essentially greedy beings, or can we exist beyond the “give me” impulse? I’d like to believe we can, but I myself wage a constant battle against selfishness. It’s certainly disheartening that the public and the media encourage us to overindulge in ourselves all the time, when in fact I think we need constant checks against acquiring too much—both because it draws away from what other people can have, and because possessions tend to corrupt. The more you have, it seems, the less you give. It might not make sense, but it’s true. We have an overdeveloped sense of entitlement along with a keen urge to acquire. It does not make for a healthy society. I finally had to turn it off, though unfortunately, this doesn’t make the problem go away.
I again woke early, but this time in the rain. It was sprinkling all day—not enough to drench, but enough to sap at one’s spirits and make everything damp. But I marched through it anyway. I hadn’t come all this way to be defeated by rain! And I’m so glad I didn’t turn back, since I loved the park so much. The temple itself was nice, but not all that fabulous. Worth a wander, but it wouldn’t draw me back. It was the intense scenery, even obscured by fog and rain. It was drama and rock and wildness and extremes and awesome. At every moment, at every turn, I was newly impressed, my breath taken away yet again, as another intense scene unfolded before me. But finally I was driven away by both the time and the weather—it was really starting to pour, and I wanted to peek around the valley tea shop before departing. There I fell in love with yet another horrifically expensive tea set, but I think I’ll take the plunge for this one if it’s still there in the spring. Then I’ll know we’re meant to be, if it’s still there J. Fate might not work for me in terms of a man…we’ll see what it does for me in terms of tea! The shop was actually really nice—cozy and warm and had all sorts of handmade items for sale. It was a dangerous spot for me. On the way back down, I saw a huge Buddha carving etched on a wall and climbed to the top of a pinnacle on which a tiny prayer hall was perched. There were all sorts of people out by then—grandmothers, groups of hikers, old men, families…all trudging through the rain together. It was a pretty neat atmosphere. Unfortunately, I still have no idea how the park is set up, since I never got a good view from above but just wandered as my feet took me. Guess I’ll have to leave that for next time!
I indulged in another village meal upon my return to the bus stop. This one is marked by an interesting incident: my first Korean fight. There I was, stirring my bibimbap and dabbing my chopsticks into the delicious array of vegetables before me, when I heard a resounding crash! The men in the back of the room had been noisy since I got there, but I hadn’t paid any attention—figured they’d been drinking (one of them was openly staring at me and tried to start a conversation before his wife herded him away). Korean men can be such train wrecks when they drink. And when I looked up, the low table had been turned over, dumping an entire tableful of dishes and food and drink. At first I thought perhaps it had been an accident—drunks are clumsy, after all—but then two men started throttling each other in the back corner while everyone else looked on in horror. One man was turning red as the other strangled him. It was a complete disaster. And it seemed so outrageous…I mean, this was 1 pm on a Sunday! How can you let yourself become such a wreck at that hour? Why is this acceptable in this country? They were finally separated and I assume they were calmed down, since they had to ride a tour bus back to wherever together. From what I could gather, the other men gave the restaurant some money to cover the damage. I watched them clean up—few broken dishes, but it was quite a big mess that was complicated by the fact that much of the food was red and spicy and much of the drink was a dark red berry wine. Good recipe for stains, there. I think everyone involved, including the restaurant workers, was embarrassed I had been there to witness such an event. Some of them apologized and tried to explain to me. I was mostly shocked the whole time, but now, I am just disgusted. Seriously…you get to be a middle-aged man and you’re involving yourself in midafternoon fights? Where exactly is your life headed? Not someplace I want to go, definitely!