The Birkin bag lady

Helen invited me along to see Miss Birkin sing french songs.
It was really enjoyable actually.

The only problem was that I understood a fraction of the songs so I kept getting distracted by trying to work out the rest of the song. I enjoyed it a lot more when I stopped doing that and simply listened to the singing.

It was a pretty nice concert. What really made it fantastically brilliant  was the music. Jane Birkin is not a bad singer and she is singing songs here that are very suitable for her but the musicians were really incredible.
There was a violinist, a drummer and a pianist who turned out to be a top-notch composer and one of the leading producers of the show.

Also, the venue was quite pimp.

Temple Stay - Geumsansa

I went with Adventure Korea on a templestay to Geumsansa temple.
(Ironically on St. Patrick's weekend. I am a disgrace to my national stereotype.)

It's not just for idle foreigners either. Temple stays are open to all.
The object is to experience regular temple life, retreat from modern life and all that sort of thing.
(Despite the rules, we didn't seem to forsake our cameras or phones. I didn't take pictures inside any of the temples because that is just gauche.)

Personally, I would say the trip is worth it just for the fresh air. Geumsansa is on the slopes of Moaksan in Jeollabuk-do. 
Hillwalking and mountain-climbing is Korea's favourite pastime (The first being co-ordinating your outfit with the rest of your walking group.) so while we were there there was an endless stream of hiking groups making their way through. They seemed to use the temple a their starting point before climbing the mountain. (or simply going for a nature ramble.) It can be arranged to have your dinner in the temple refectory if you want.
This is fairly common. Historically speaking temples were banned from city limits so a great many were built in the countryside among the mountains.

Geumsansa is a large complex with several smaller temples and shrines within it. It's notable for containing many significant historical artifacts. (Officially designated national treasures. One of the reasons for our strict curfew.) I recall one of the group complained about the protective covering over one burial site because their photos would be 'much better' if it wasn't there. =.= It's not as it there was a giant bilingual sign explaining the cover and the value of the monument right beside it...oh wait, yes there was.
Everything is also decorated in a very colorful manner.

We met in Seoul and took a bus down to Geumsamsa. (Stopping at a truckstop that I found quite expansive.)

We were issued with nametags and a schedule for our weekend. The workers at the temple were great. I think they were volunteers and 'parishioners' (For lack of an appropriate term). They helped organise us and served as assistants to the monks.
The first thing they did was dispense our temple gear which was a nice mixture of comfortable and durable even if the velcro ended up leaving a red mark on me later on. (I did like the little fastenings at the leg.)
We expected to be put into a 'dorm' but it ended up that Helen and I shared a room instead with neat little dual sliding doors (The extra set was a mosquito net.) I also had my first experience with what I reasonably assume to be a yo, which is just like a futon in concept except Korean. It was more comfortable than we expected although another night may have made it less so.

Then we were taught the proper ways to sit and bow.
At the end of the weekend I had crippling pain in my legs (Taekwondo was fun the next day I can tell you that much.) and a firm conviction that before spiritual fulfilment Buddhism is going to give you strong leg muscles.
We were also instructed when and where to bow and places that we were not allowed to go. We had to bow to monks we met on our way and they laughed at us silly foreigners.

After that, by consulting our handy-dandy timetable, we made lotus lanterns. Which is simple but fiddly and messy at the same time. The problem that struck me is that someone had to pre-make all of the 'petals' we used to stick onto the wire and paper base lantern. Sounds like a mild exercise in insanity. (Also someone used all the red 'petals' lickety-split and earned the silent buried wrath of about thirty people.)
 Then we were instructed to write a 'wish'. I struggled with this. I don't actually believe in wishes so I just wrote something vague in Irish since it was the weekend of March 17th.

We ate lunch in the refectory where the rule seemed to be that if the monks appear you get out the way bitch. Oh and eat everything you take. (Another reason that Buddhism is good for your health.) There is no meat because they're vegetarian which is why I could not live the lifestyle in any form.

We had the evening ceremonies, where I learned that the monks of this sect have rhythm and mad drumming skills. We all got a chance to ring the bell to hell before sitting through evening ceremonies and walking meditation.

We ended the evening with a Q&A with the monk which was very interesting. I learned that nowadays monks must go to university much like priests at home. Unfortunately there were several stupid questions. The monk had unending patience but his opinion on some questions were apparant on his face. (The look basically said 'Give me strength')

Nothing to top the 'Hitler -reincarnation' question Stephanie heard on her temple stay. But a fair amount of silly questions. This monk was a young man and still in university pursuing an advanced qualification. He told us he liked soccer and later someone asked "What do you wear when you play soccer?" I think he wanted to leave when they asked that in all po-faced seriousness. (For the record, the answer was a soccer uniform.)
It was interesting to hear their concept of spiritual punishment (Hell is horrible, yes but you serve your time and you're out.), reincarnation and how the temple functions in general.

There was a 'dawn ceremony' which we could have opted out of. I did. The tour guide gushed about it being part of the experience but I couldn't wake up enough (at 3:00) to go there without tripping, falling, going back to sleep and/or gravely insulting the monks and the temple.
Also I had to get up before seven to reach the meeting point in time, I hadn't slept all day and this was after about two hours sleep.

At the regular meeting time we had morning meditation. (Where I learned how unflexible I still am. I get phantom pains just thinking about it.) Afterwards was a traditional formal monastic meal. We learned the special way to unstack the bowls, fold the cloth covers and serving the food. There are special movements to indicate you have enough too. It is strictly forbidden to take anything that you will not eat so I had a small breakfast, not caring much for radish.
This included a special way to wash the dishes. If you do it right then your water should be mostly clean. It's then used in a special ceremony to slack the thirst of those suffering in hell.

Then came the communal work. ("Woo! Free labour." shout the monks.)  One group whose dish water was not sufficiently clean had to wash dishes. Our group was sent to sweep up the yards of leaves.
Pro tip: Watch out for hibernating frogs. I nearly killed one. Oops. Not the kind of karma I needed.

Afterall those splintery brooms we went for a walk in the mountains which was very nice indeed.A brief respite before the arduous task before us. We had to make a necklace of prayer beads - 108 to be precise.
To put one bead on your necklace you need to perform one full bow. This involves a half bow at the waist, kneeling down, placing  your hands flat on the mat, placing your forehead flat on the mat, reversing your hands before raising them up while you remain face down. Then you have to reverse all of these movements to get back up. That is exactly one bow (and worth one bead) and you must kneel down and get up in a special manner.
To sum up this part: "Oh god, my legs."

That was pretty much everything we did. I enjoyed it despite my lack of leg strength. It was definitely an interesting experience.

Norigae

No-ri-gae are traditional Korean decorations that hang off my mobile phone and are badly designed by teachers teaching Arts & Crafts.

(The kids did a better job.)

Hanbok, hanbok, pretty, pretty, princess.

I'll admit to having cultural jealousy. We don't have a national dress. (Peasant rags in nineteenth century depictions Do. Not. Count.)

Korea has a really pretty one in the hanbok.
When the school held a 'hanbok day' for Chuseok there was an incredible amount of squee in this direction. SO cute and a rare chance to see the boys in pastels and silks. Super cute.

We found out about a place where we could play dress-up like big kids. (One of our Korean co-teachers was all 'Oh, you have to try hanbok')

Mi Su Da is a cultural experience in the Namsan Hanok Village close to Chungmuro station. They are associated with traditional theatre which unfortunately we did not have time for.

You can experience traditional clothing, games, music and tea ceremony. We opted for the basic package since it was late in the day which comprised of hanbok, photo and tea.

The changing area is very professional and it has excellent security. We simply wore the hanbok over our clothes and little clogs were provided for us.

As you can see, mine does not have the best fit. (Yes, Granny I was aware of it.) On the other hand Stephanie looks great, good colours, and Helen is suitably regal as an ancient queen. (Quite possibly a warrior with Taekwondo skills.)
They were also very comfortable to wear. These gave us the special squee you get from wearing a particularly floaty dress.

We had a lot of fun that day. Yes, we proceeded to prance around and strike period drama poses. I successfully retied the bows for the others and most importantly...

We looked unquestionably fabulous.

House of Sharing

A little while back Helen invited me along on a tour group she'd signed up for.

The House of Sharing is southeeast of Seoul in Gyeonggi province. The establishment has had a troubled history in Seoul and had to move several times before they gathered funds to build the current complex they use in the countryside in 1995. Along with residences, there is a museum, several art installations, memorials, a reconstruction of a comfort station (a much more spacious, well lit and hygienic one according to the survivors who viewed it) and meeting rooms. Due to the age of the residences it is a lot like a nursing home but what it specifically is, is a safehouse for former comfort women.

I had heard the term 'comfort woman' before but I misunderstood the details. I thought it was simply a euphemism for prostitute coined during the Second World War but it's actually more complex and bluntly horrible.

A 'comfort woman' is a female (A large percent could not really be called adults) who were abducted and/or tricked to leave home for work before being forced into sexual slavery by the Japanese military in 'Comfort Stations'. They were held as prisoners mostly in tiny dark little cells, abused, assaulted and many of them simply died.

Many of the specifics are now lost ot us for several reasons.

The first, is that when the war began to draw to a close the official in charge did what many were doing at the time and destroyed the paper trail. (Putting aside the fact that a paper trail existed for military brothels filled with slaves for the moment.)

The next is that a great many of these women disappeared. Some died of disease or the primitive forced abortions. Others were absorbed into the country where they had been transported. Some have been discovered, unable to speak their mother tongue after more than sixty years elsewhere isolated from their country.

It seems to have been determined that this official sanctioned version of rape began in 1932 in response to reports of Japanes soldiers raping women. In my opinion such logic can only be obscene arrogance or complete insanity.

It may be a mixture of both. As of now, the Japanese government refuses to issue an official apology or acknowledgement. [I'm glad to note that the Irish government gave one to the victims of the Magdalene Laundries. See, Japan. Is that so hard?]

Every Wednesday at 12:00pm since January 8th 1992 the survivors and their supporters gather outside the  embassy to protest. Their response is to close all the doors, windows and blinds to block out the elderly Korean ladies. (It is officially the longest running protest in the world.)

We were brought by bus out to the house. The group watched a video, had a discussion and went to the museum. One of the main guides was an American girl. She could be a bit leading attempting to get her audience to give her specific answers, especially considering that the group was composed of intelligent adults that came there willingly. The evidence speaks for itself so it was a bit unnecessary. However she was very passionate and outraged about her cause.

We saw maps of movements (most women to transported to different countries to help prevent escape), reconstructions of 'comfort stations' and much of artwork (Art Therapy is big here) before talking to the survivors. There were also 'relics' from deceased survivors.

Very few of these women have families of any sort, those opportunities having being robbed from them. They are addressed by the respectful 'Halmoni' which means Grandmother

The truth is that many of these women understandably did not wish to speak out about their experiences. It take a certain kind of spine to out yourself through more heartache and suffering. They felt, naturally enough, ashamed and traumatised. Talking to one of the residents, it seemed to me that she only 'came out' as a survivor because she had no choice. She was getting too old and sick to live alone and had to deal with both the government and her church trying to find a relative to live with or else why she seemed to have none.

Helen felt embarrassed when she asked the Halmoni what she did for Seollnal and got the response 'Nothing. Everyone went home so we were alone.'
I had to point out that she had beat me to the punch as I was about to ask that. 'What did you do last weekend?' is a simple enough question afterall.
We weren't actually allowed, and we were warned pretty strictly about this, to ask them anything about their experiences and you know what that's fine. Why would they want to talk about those things with every gawker passing through especially when we'd already been given a pretty thorough rundown a half hour before.
That being said I nearly leaned over to give the guy next to me a clip around the ear when he did just that. (There were a good few stupid questions that day.) The Halmoni did give an answer as well as a deflection. She said she didn't like Japanese and didn't want to talk about them. Who can blame her?

Of the survivors that have come out with their stories only about half a dozen remain. (It's undeniable that the Japanese government is simply waiting for these elderly ladies to die.) There are those biding their time and then there are assholes like Toru Hashimoto. Way to go Toru, way to make your country proud.

The House of Sharing continues their weekly protests and accepts visitors year round.

Hotteok

One thing Korea is very good at is street food.
Delicious, tempting street food.

*ahem* Anyway, while in Busan I tried Hotteok.

 



 Ultra cheap at only 1,000 won, it's a type of mini-panake 'fried' in hot oil and flattened with a special stamp. It's considered to be a winter food and is served piping hot.

There are different varieties obviously, and the kind we had was sweet. I think it was stuffed with raisins or something similar. It's crisp, crunchy and very filling.  (Which is good because I'm told the calorie count is simply outrageous. XD )

These however are less to my taste and more than my bravery can handle.

Haedong Yonggungsa - Busan

This temple is a good bit out from the rest of the city. There's quite a lot going on here and , like a great many many places in Korea, was burned down by the Japanese at one stage or another. In this case, it was during the 16th Century (?) and it was rebuilt during the 1930s.

No, not by the Nazis (Le sigh)

Naturally, we have some Zodiac animals doing their thing.
Can't have a temple without some representation.
Apparantly this is the only temple in Korea with the animals sculpted.

The temple was extremely crowded and the paths narrow so there was a lot I couldn't take pictures with. It didn't help that I was standing on a bridge either or relying on my camera phone.

Above is Samcheongji. (Three blue ponds......there were originally three) People toss money into the ponds aiming for the bowls. It's meant to be great luck if you can toss it into the bowl held by the statue. There were lots of people trying their luck here.

 

 

In general, this temple has a beautiful setting. What surprised me was how close it was to the shore.



While swimming is probably ill-advised you can certainly walk down the rocks to the water easy enough. The weather was pleasant for January but I imagine it's a lot less welcoming in the rain.

The Black Watch

Helen has a sense for when things are going on so she was able to clue me in to Black Watch being at the National Theatre here.

I was asked if was interested. Naturally I said yes. (Me, turn down a trip to the theatre? Not very likely.)

 

Looking at the picture (that weirdly keeps unrotating itself) you can see the complimentary program we got that would have cost at the very least €12 at home.

 

 

The play is designed as an immersive experience so all the action take place on a space with the seats facing down on two opposite sides. It's a little rough (Every sentence has a fuck in it)  so not one for Granny I fear.

 

It was good, the acting was good, the settings atmospheric and it was very interesting. (The slow motion wire death was hella' surprising though.) There was lots of bangs and flashes to simulate gunfire and mortars and it worked quite well. They turned up the sound a little too loud at the end though.

 

 

On the other hand they didn't speak in a Scottish accent or dialect having cut out the 'dinnae' and other similar phrases but they kept them in the broadcast subtitles which we were a bit confused by. The non-English speakers would have been far more troubled by this. We wondered why it wasn't the other way round. It was still very good but the characters didn't really sound Scottish with the script so carefully excised. They sounded a bit too English.

 

The theatre had a shuttle but it was within walking distance of our subway station so we decided to walk. It was quite steep but the area was beautiful.

 



On the way home, Helen and I went to Insa-dong where we stopped for a euhm...random jam session.

We sat on the stools and picked up instruments and banged away. Helen has actually played drums but she was nice enough to let me try this big drum thing that I don't the name of but it was a lot like a bodhran.

An unexpected diversion.