Anthony in Korea, Day 9, Thursday, April 30, 2009-Photos

I cannot believe where I am right now. Late this afternoon I decided to go on the Insangdon Shamanist Hillside Walk. This is area is a village if Buddhist and Shamanist temples up in a mountain, high above the city of Seoul [see the amazing pics above]. It is a 20 minute, very steep uphill walk from a subway station, and although I almost dropped dead from exhaustion, it was more than worth the effort.

I am surprised and sad that nobody in Seoul recommended that I come here. A place more different than Seoul city there could not be. As I type a Shamanist ritual is taking place…a woman is beating a drum and chanting/singing in Korean. The Shamanists and Buddhists used to be the majority of Seoul and Korea. This area in the hillside dates back hundreds of years, well before Christianity and industry began to envelope the city and country. It is truly amazing; here I am, sitting on a rock on a hillside, listening to nothing but nature (and chanting). Before me I see trees and flowers and birds. To my right and left there and small Buddhist temples nestled in the rocky slops. And directly behind me...? Well, directly behind me (uh-oh, here comes a Buddhist Monk! What should I say? … OK, I said hello in Korean and he smiled…good! He is walking with a wooden stick along the rocks and he seems happy and peaceful) … anyway, directly behind me is the huge Seoul cityscape. Wow, this is a huge city. It’s actually one of the largest in the world (11 million people), so it’s even bigger than New York. The contrast between the place that I am at right now and the skyline behind me is like black and white. It is here at Insangdon that I have realized I really do not like Seoul per se—I like what Seould used to be, or, rather, what it is drifting away from. It used to be a family-centered, Buddhist/Confucianist/Shamanist society, with little interest in modern skyscrapers and cash capital. But with the onset of Capitalism and Christianity the soul of Seoul is now different than before. Indeed, these rocks upon which I sit have been here for thousands of years, if not millions, and the Shamans have been worshiping on them for hundreds. But the skyscrapers you see in the photos—they are not real…they were built in a desperate race to ‘modernize’ in the last 20 years, with credit and capital that really doesn’t exist, borrowed from banks and corporations, and they are partly the reason the place I am sitting now is so unknown to and unvisited by the average Seoulite. It is truly a shame.

The Shamanists and Buddhist seem so happy here. They have very little of the modern world to speak of—just nature and prayer and ritual and simple clothing and, presumably, simple food (although there is a 7-11 type convenience store at the bottom of the hill so they could get a hot dog or some toilet paper if they really wanted to!). These people are at one with nature and self, and honestly, I am tempted to ask if I can join them, just run away from the modern world and live up here in the hilltops above Seoul for the rest of my life…

I’d better head back down the hill—it’s getting dark.

Insangdon is an unforgettable place, so much so that I am going to have a separate post on this blog to showcase two short videos that I took. In the first, you will see a woman chanting and bowing, performing a shamanist ritual in the mountains. The Shamanists (and the Buddhists, I think, as well) kneel and “pray” to the rocks and to nature, and even leave food a drink for deceased loved ones. I should not have been recording any of it (my guidebook warns not to), but I did so anyway. I hope the video is clear. The second recording is shorter, a simple panoramic view of Seoul city, from the mountains, from the exact same spot where I saw the woman chanting, only the opposite direction. I am not sure if I really captured the essence of the contrast that I witnessed, but I hope you enjoy it.

After descending the mountain, I went to Myeongdong, a place Olivia brought me on one of my first nights in Seoul. It’s an entertainment district loaded with bars and restaurants and, of course, people. First I went to a piano bar and wrote some emails and added to my novel. The waitress/piano player was so nice; she played Billy Joel songs and smiled a lot and tried her best to speak English and ask me about my life in America. After, I went to a Korean restaurant where, finally, I had authentic Korean bibimbap. For those of you who don’t know, bibimbap is to Korea what spaghetti and meatballs is to Italy. It’s one of the national dishes, and of course it was served along side several banchan, or side dishes, including (of course) kimchi, as well as some sweet beans and a vegetable that was quite delicious. I love how the Koreans serve side dishes along with the main meal by default. You don’t have to pay for them—they are technically free. Just order a main dish and here comes the side dishes. Not a bad way to eat!

The bibimbap was superb. It’s a simple dish, really—a sizzling bowl of rice, veggies, and mean (in my case, tofu), topped off with a raw egg. What you do is mix it all together the moment it is served—the bowl is so hot that the egg gets cooked so you wind up with a delicious mélange that tastes even better than it sounds.