Things to do in a typhoon

This past weekend was a 3-day here in Korea (Monday was Constitution Day). I had considered going on a trip given the long weekend but was relieved to have neglected to plan as a typhoon (maybe more than one) swept Korea, apparently causing the president to declare a state of national emergency. Not that it was really that bad up here, as the most I saw was basically a lot of rain, not much worse than springtime in Seattle.

Anyway, I took the show indoors for the most part, with the exception of an excellent (but very wet) foray into the hills just North of Seoul. That was the result of a sort of half-planned, half just brazen curiosity-driven trip to the end of the #4 subway line, to the neighborhood of Donggigae. What I came across there was a glimpse of “old Korea” (by this I mean the faded images of my early years here) at the urban fringe where development has yet to replace the old, organic, somewhat ramshackle city form with the high-rise structures that dominate elsewhere. Narrow, winding streets, and even narrower alleyways branching off the streets, snaking through the neighborhood, crammed with small shops – restaurants, rice-pastry shops, fabric shops, fish and vegetable stalls, tailors, barber shops, makeshift video arcades, mobile sellers with their recorded messages blasting over megaphones, and improvised churches are everywhere. Some churches have the actual “standard” steeple that you see everywhere, others use old radio-towers with crosses on top, still others are just tiny one-story buildings and just have “church” written on the side. Buddhist buildings can be identified by their left-facing swastikas. It’s still a little jarring to see this symbol all over the place here, even though it was in existence as a sacred symbol for many religions long before it became known to the world as a symbol of evil. A sign of how deeply it has penetrated our (or at least my) consciousness.
After winding my way through Donggigae, I found myself on the road leading out of town, which after a quarter mile or so split off to the left and entered a nature preserve area. I continued along the road, through what seemed like a squatter camp of some sort, feeling a little wary and wondering a little if I shouldn’t just turn around rather than find myself in the wrong neck of the woods…but, I continued, sensing I was in some sort of interesting place and there was more to see down the road. Eventually the road turned sharply upward, and I started up a hill, into the woods. All the while it was pouring down rain – luckily I had brought my umbrella, which as usual, seemed way too small. After a little while I came across a small shelter with a large bell in it, with what might have been 2 or 3 people huddled underneath the floor of the shelter, taking cover from the rain. Then, through the trees, I saw a small, but beautiful Buddhist temple with a garden in front. I decided after a little bit that I could probably wander quietly around for a couple of minutes, which I did – the smell of ginseng and incense hanging heavily in the air and mixing with the smell of the rain. Feeling a little like I might not belong there, I decided not to linger too long – I think I probably could have ventured inside the temple, but for fear of looking like a doofy lost-in-the-woods tourist, desecrating a sacred place, I figured it was better not to risk it. The experience I had was certainly memorable enough…

So that was Saturday – Sunday I spent much of the day with the Hos at the gigantic underground COEX mall and the Seoul Aquarium, both good places to visit in typhoon weather. COEX was both very big, and very crowded, but two things stand out as memorable: 1) they project these ads which double as interactive video games onto the floor, kids cram around them jumping, kicking, doing whatever the game has them doing – I still can’t figure out exactly how they do it, and 2) t-shirts. Like you’ve never seen them before – a t-shirt can be built on just about any slogan/catchphrase/graphic or combination thereof, they’re everywhere, and almost no two are the same. Many of them have English slogans but something usually gets lost in translation so it’s just not quite right. Which makes them both unique and entertaining reading as you’re walking along. The aquarium was cool – with a few twists that made it different than most others I’ve seen. Like the army action figures in the fish tanks, and the one aquarium that was made out of a phone booth (photos to follow).

On Monday I went to the Museum of Contemporary Art. One of the great things about visiting the Museum (which is in the same place as the giant Seoul Land amusement park) is that you are shuttled there via the one and only elephant train - a purple, motorized trolley with a big plastic elephant head on the front. Anyway, I’d been really interested to see this museum as I’m trying to wrap my mind around what Korea is today – I mean they have basically developed as a distinct culture over several thousand years, mostly because of their natural geographic isolation (mountains to the north and a peninsula surrounded by water). Over that time they have had to fight off invasion after invasion, and have been occupied/ruled by different countries at many different points in their history (the Japanese occupation of 1910-1945 being a particularly sore point). After the Korean War, the country was both devastated and divided...and during the past 50 years they have struggled to find themselves as a distinct culture again, amidst the ubiquitous force of Westernization. It sort of reminds me a bit of visiting Moscow and St. Petersburg a few years ago and seeing the cities rapidly evolving, taking on a new identity that was heavily influenced by the West but yet distinctly rooted in an undercurrent of their own history and traditions. So in an age where everything starts to look and feel more the same, it’s interesting to me to see if and how cultures react to that, and how they stand apart.

All this being said, the development of modern Korean culture seems very visible in their art. In the early years after the war, the art was tending toward abstract-expressionist, very much seeking meaning, lacking a distinct "Korean" identity (as far as I could see), probably influenced partly by the west, but also introverted and hard for a wider audience understand. As time went on, artists rebelled against this lack of coherency, and the art became much more focused on clear geometric forms, seeking meaning in structure. "Traditional" forms or references were largely ignored until the late 70's, early 80's, when they were combined with contemporary themes in an apparent realization of the need to connect with and acknowledge their past, and then finally, after the Olympic games of 1988, this strongly-defined, distinctly Korean identity was finally put forth in modern art. It was pretty fascinating to see this develop - I was especially interested in the early 80's period, partly because I was in Korea then (yeah and heavily into the art scene too ;), but also because it was this period right before the economic boom began and Korea was totally transformed. It was interesting to see this period as part of a realization of the culture and traditions of the past, just as Korea was seeing itself becoming a much more affluent and westernized nation.

Plenty of pictures to come in the next post – including never-before seen shots of *ALL THREE* parts of a night out on the town in Anyang, army guys in fish tanks, my very wet day in Danggogae, a hard-won picture of the one and only Rich Business (just the outside of course), and the old teahouses of Insadong. But as usual it’s late, and my wrist got pretty badly whacked playing basketball tonight – wrapped as it is in some sort of herbal remedy patch, oozing a very medicinal smell, it really shouldn’t be forced to type any longer…and it’s been another long post, so good night & good luck ‘til next time…

~Sean-toki