A Good Thick Skirt

There have been many invasions of Korea by the Japanese throughogwaout the recorded history of Asia.  There was a signficant invasion that began in about 1910 and ended up with Korea becoming a Japanese colony until 1945.   Gunsan was one of the most signficant sites of the invasion as it was one of the biggest ports in Korea.  The Japanese forced the Koreans to ship enormous amounts of rice to Japan…in some years more than half of the local production, causing many people to die of starvation.  Gunsan area produced about 40% of the rice in Korea, so this had a significant impact on the entire country. Like most colonial powers, they then took over the farms and forced the local population to work for them.

Gunsan has the largest collection of Japanese colonial architecture in Korea, possibly in the world.  The city has decided to make it into an attraction, and they continue to develop the harbour area,  where the most significant buildings are still standing.  We spent the day wandering around looking at the buildings, which are clearly a different style of .architecture than Korean buildings.  The time is “frozen” at about 1930.  Many movies and TV dramas have been filmed here.  We stayed in a traditional yogwan.  Wan means room or place, and a yo is a mattress on the floor stuffed with cotton – a bit lumpy and hard but worth it.  Our room had Japanese style sliding windows with decorative wood over the windows.

The museum in Gunsan is one of the best that I’ve seen here.  It’s ranked by the government as the 5th best in the country.  There is a village inside set up to resemble a 1930’s street scene, and  you can get a real sense of how the Japanese shaped the city.  The store fronts are from actual businesses and each one has a photograph of it in place.

By the time we got to bed we had walked about 10 km, and were ready to sleep.

Back to the Mammoth Bakery this morning – when you find a palatable cup of coffee in Korea it is definitely an experience to repeat.  A chocolate croissant this morning with two cups of coffee.  A group of tourists came in.  One of my games when I’m travelling is to see tourists and try to guess their nationality from their dress and behaviour, and then get close enough to hear what language they’re speaking.  These tourists didn’t even give me a chance- they were extraordinarily loud and their German could be heard throughout the entire cafe.  It seems to me that sometimes people speaking in their own language get confused; thinking that just because other people can’t understand them means that they also can’t hear them, so there is no need to keep their voices down.

Our plan for the day was to visit Mungyeong Mountain and the weather was incredibly co-operative, cool and sunny.  We walked about halfway to the top before we gave up and retreated.   The Korean name is Mongyeong Saejae, which translates into something like mountain too steep or too high for even a bird to climb.  It was the highest and most dangerous mountain pass when the original road was built in 1400 or so.  It was fortified when the Japanese invaded in 1592.  There is a walk to the top built on the site of the old road, and it travels beside a mountain stream.  The water is the clearest I’ve seen in Korea, and the fish can be seen clearly.  There are myths about various ogres and things that lurk under various rocks.  The leaves were just starting to turn colour and the path wandered among wonderful shades of red and yellow, with the occasional tree with leaves that were almost purple.

At the bottom of the hill people were flocking to begin the climb.  As is the norm in Korea, they were specially kitted out in their hiking outfits: brightly coloured jackets, backpacks, spats, boots,walking poles and scarves.  The scarves are co-ordinated to show which group or club you are from.  Clearly, in our jeans, running shoes and t-shirts, we were woefully under dressed.  At the other end of the spectrum, about halfway up the mountain we met two young women walking down in short skirts and high heels.  We didn’t see even one foreigner on the mountain, which meant that there were lots of people looking at me, and several asked Youngik how tall I was.  One kindly older woman expressed to him her concern that it would be hard for me to find a husband since I was so tall, but he was able to reassure her that I actually had a husband who was taller than me.

Mungyeong is also the place where the best apples in Korea come from, so we had to buy some.  They are really delicious, but not like any kind of apple that is familiar…crisp, juicy and a little tart.  The other specialty here is five-flavour tea which seems to be a syrup made from 5 different fruits and sugar.  You then mix it with hot water and float pine nuts on top.

As we were wandering back down the mountain I heard music playing out of the forest.  I imagined that it was some kind of classical music but it was amazing mixed with the fresh air and the colour of the leaves.  We found a small path leading in the general direction of the music and decided to follow it.  Imagine our surprise when we stumbled on a small cafe, and there was a woman on the balcony playing a saxophone.  She had a small computer that was accompanying her.  The music was mournful and wound its way through the trees.  We sat and had tea at the cafe, and listened and listened.

As we kept on down the mountain I noticed that many of the people coming down seemed very jolly – laughing loudly and slapping each other on the back.  When I remarked on it, Youngik told me that all of the people we had see drinking out of thermoses were probably drinking soju, the Korean drink that is approximately vodka made out rice, and drunk straight.  Just what I would want in my water bottle for a day of mountain climbing.

Breakfast this morning at the Mammoth Bakery – reputed to be one of the three best bakeries in Korea.  It’s been here since 1974 and serves the best coffee we’ve had so far, with excellent croissants,  and other French style baking.  It would be really interesting to find out how someone started this kind of business that long ago…even 15 years ago, it was almost impossible to find even the most basic baking here – not even bread.  Now there are many bakeries, but this one was really outstanding.

Hahoe Village was our destination for the day.  It’s a UNESCO World Heritage site, which has had people living in it since at least the mid 1650s.  They say the houses have been continuously inhabited, but in order for mud and thatch houses to be that old they must have had constant maintenance.  At what point have you replaced the entire house?  And then, is it actually the same house or a new one?

I was a little disappointed because you can’t go inside any of the houses – there are people living in them.  The main source of income seems to be guesthouses or homestay.  It might have been interesting to stay there, but it was $160 a night, which is about 4 times our daily budget.  We did have a lovely walk around the village though – the leaves are just beginning to turn colour and we were able to walk around the fields and under the trees.  Even though it was pouring with rain, and quite chilly, it was a great day for walking.  Poor Youngik, I don’t think he realized just how much I like to walk.

Then we went to the Byoungsan Seowon.  It was a very old Confusion academy where people studied for the traditional government exams.  It was established sometime in the 1350s, and was used until about 1870.  There is a seating platform that is angled so that the students could contemplate the mountainside while they studied.  There was no one there but us, probably because of the rain, so it was easy to imagine the scholars sitting there.  It is considered to be the most beautiful seowan in Korea.

Andong is famous for salted grilled fish.  There is a very old man here who has been designated as a cultural treasure by the government because he had an uncanny knack for determining the correct amount of salt to use for each fish.  He’s now about 75 years old and is responsible for training other people.  The fish is mackerel and it is served very simply—just salted and dried when it is caught, and then grilled and served with rice and side dishes.  We enjoyed it for lunch, and then for a treat back to the bakery for another cup of coffee. You can see him on Youtube at https://youtu.be/L3ZCPBnqYJk

The rain finally stopped and we walked around town, managed to find a bank that could recognize my bank card (so now we have money), and then an early evening so we can dry our pants and shoes.

We rounded off the day by watching the movie Bucket List, which always make me cry.A

We got up early enough this morning to be in the orchard by 7 am.  The orchard is on a hill, and the higher we climbed, the stronger the smell of citrus.  About half of the trees were uja trees and the other half were a mixture of both kinds of persimmon.  We were going to pick some persimmons to take with us and Youngik`s mother wanted me to pick some uja so she could make uja cha for me.  Uja is a kind of citrus fruit that is quite sour, and it is cut up and layered with sugar. After a while it turns into a syrup that is mixed with hot water to make a delicious tea.  Standing in the orchard with the breeze from the ocean and the smell of citrus made it a very special start to the day.

Back to the house for a traditional Korean breakfast: rice with beans, fish, soup, and side dishes.  Then, we set off on our way.  After a while we thought we should stop for coffee.  Ever hopeful, we went to a different coffee shop and asked for drip coffee.  This time the barrista said she didnt recommend it because it was quite old.  So, Americanos for two.  What is unclear to me though is how you can make a lukewarm Americano.

A short nap for the driver and then back on the road.  In Canada it would take about 3 hours to go 300 km.  In Korea it seems to take about 5 hours.

We arrived in Andong in time to go to the Mask Museum.  It was really interesting; the traditional wooden carved masks are all from a play called Bongsan.  Essentially, it`s making fun of the aristocratic class.  All of the masks for the aristocrats show them with weird diseases like leprosy or scabies, or as idiots from too much intermarriage.  It was an art form that allowed the lower classes to complain about the upper class.

There was a display of what is called `trick art`- it`s a picture on the wall and if one person stands in the right position, and the other person stands in the right position  and take a picture, the first person looks like they are part of the picture on the wall.  If this sounds confusing, the results are posted on Facebook.

The rest of the masks are from all over the world including one lonely Haida mask.  It would be interesting to hear its story and how it got there.  Perhaps the other odd thing was that the music that was playing over the sound system was Edelweiss, from the Sound of Music.

On to our motel.  Youngik chose it online, and when he made reservations they said the room was 40,000 won for a yo room for the night, or 50,000 if we wanted beds.  We thought we would be ok with yo – they`re like a thin futon (or an Air Canada omelette) that you spread on the floor.  For $10 a night we thought we could sleep on the floor. When we arrived and I went to pay with my credit card, they said 45,000 if you use card, so we had to wander around looking for a bank. grrrr. Back to the motel to pay for our room, which turned out to have bizarre wallpaper that looks like shelved o business text books.

Out for dinner; we decided to eat the local traditional specialty, jjindak, which is a kind of chicken stew with noodles, a little bit sweet and a little bit spicy.  We found a restaurant nearby that had many recommendations of all of the TV shows that it has been on.  Dinner came, and it looked and smelled delicious.  Then, to our surprise, they brought two extra side dishes…french fries sprinkled with something white, possibly Parmesan, and corn niblets with a cheese slice melted over the top. I told Youngik that I was not aware that french fries and cheese slices were traditional Korean food.

Back at the motel, Youngik asked at the office where the nearest laundromat is, and they said we could use their washing machine.  They even gave us some soap, which made up for the pain over the visa card.  Now I have clean clothes, and it is time for bed.  Youngik has lived with me for long enough that he is not troubled by our room being festooned with my wet underwear.

After breakfast this morning we went to pick up the rental car and set out on our road trip.  As with car rentals everywhere there is endless paperwork, and an attempt by the car company to prove that the car is pristine and that any damage is your fault.  In this case they weren’t far wrong because we set out from an underground parking lot and scraped the car on a concrete wall. Oh well….

When we left the city, Youngik set the navigation system to take us to his parents’ farm.  It has a horrible voice, a nasty combination of whining and nagging.  Anyway, after turning this way and that way, it took us up a very small side road and led us to a burial site and told us we had arrived at our destination.  Guess we need to bring a navigator with us next time.

We arrived safely at the parents, eventually. They live on an island, Narodo, off the south coast.  It’s extraordinarily beautiful, protected from the ocean by another island, Big Narodo, which happens to be where the Korean space station is located, and where their satellite was launched.  The parents live at the top of a hill overlooking a small bay.  The drive up to tuheir house is a winding land with a rock wall on one side and a sharp drop off on the other.   This part of the hillside has been terraced over a period of at least 300 years, and the houses and roads have just fit in around the farms.

The neighbour didn’t want us to park on the road because it is time for the millet harvest.  Originally, they would dry the millet in the sun and then beat it with sticks to crack the hull.  Now they dry it in the sun on a tarpaulin, and when it is dry enough, drive a tractor back and forth on top of it.  This means that it works best if it is spread on pavement.

When we arrived we had a snack of figs and two kinds of persimmons, all from the farm.  The trees grow in front of the house on a terrace that is only about  6 feet wide.  One of the persimmons was the kind I have had before, about the colour and texture of a peach. The other one was a lot redder and the inside was sort of translucent… and vaguely jelly-like.  This allowed me to add one more to the very short list of fruit that I don’t like.  It tasted the great, but the texture – ugh.

For dinner we had the same kind of fish cooked three ways: grilled, raw and in soup.  Living this close to the ocean means that fish is the mainstay of the diet.  Since their combined government pension is about 100 dollars per month, and many things are near the same price as they are in Canada, free or cheap fish, and growing their own fruit and vegetables is a necessity.

Gwangju is famous as the site of the democratic uprisings, May 18, 1980. At the time, Korea had a military government that had taken over after the death of the President (or perhaps they murdered him, it depends who’s telling the story).  The government that it was time to quell the discontent that was starting to arise across the country, and that university students were the ones getting out of line.  There were some demonstrations that were met with tanks and guns.  The story gets increasingly murky as are two official versions of what happened.  Either way, a lot of people ended up getting killed, so many, in fact, that they had to create a new cemetery for them.  There are still debates with the government about how many were killed – the number that the army admitted killing is about 25% of the number that families reported missing.

The park we went to was the site of the police station in 1980, which had been used as a detention centre and court.  Even though all of the people who were arrested were civilians, they were all tried in military court with senior army officers as judges.  Several were sentenced to death.  As is almost predictable in this setting, there was torture and beatings, to force people to confess.  There are lifesized statues throughout the park of people being beaten and tortured in various ways.  It was a sad and depressing display.

Youngik is an excellent tour guide.  When we were in the barracks he talked about how similar it was to the barracks he lived in when he was doing his army time.  The torture was learned from the Japanese when they ruled Korea…holding people upside down in a container of water, or hanging them upside down and putting red pepper up their noses.  The creative ways in which people manage to damage other people seem to be endless.

The American army got involved as well, as they feared that if the government of South Korea fell (even though it was an illegal military government) it would create an opportunity for the North Koreans to make trouble.  On May 18 last year, the General who led the army into the uprising came to Gwangju to explain that he wasn’t really guilty of anything.  He was just following orders.  The one positive thing that came out this, is that is was one of the world events that led to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights.

Back to The Alleyway for dinner and another evening with friends.

I woke up this morning wondering why nothing that I had plugged in had charged during the night…of course! it was because I had to shut off the electricity in order to turn off the TV.  I managed to get that sorted out, and get myself organized before Youngik came to pick me up.  Hotel rooms in Korea typically come with water and juice, as well as a complete array of hair and skin care products.  What I still find strange is, in a moderately priced hotel, it is all in big, partially used bottles, just like at home.  Since I don’t read Korean, I’m not always sure what they are – but this time shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, hair tonic (I think), hairspray, condoms and makeup remover.  And also strange – the grape juice is white.

It seems that here a hotel is a big fancy one, generally a North American or global chain: from Holiday Inn to Hilton.  A motel is a cheaper one, still clean, but no breakfast, and no well known name.  Cheaper than that is a yogwan – no breakfast, and not necessarily clean.  Unlike North America, motel doesn’t imply that you are arriving by car.

We decided to get a cup of coffee and a pastry for breakfast.  There are at least  two coffee shops per block in this part of Gwangju.  The pastry part was easy and very good, but the coffee was a challenge.  In spite of the fact that the menu offered drip coffee, it wasn’t possible.  They didn’t have anything to make it with — the barista recommended that we should have Americanos…which were quite a bit more expensive.  We gave in because we needed coffee, but the Americanos turned out to be dark brown lukewarm water  It seems that almost no one drinks plain black coffee here, and I’m not entirely sure that coffee shop employees know how to make it.

I went to the tailor to drop off some fabric that I had brought from Canada.  As usual we had a spirited discussion, this time translated by Youngik.  He didn’t know much about women’s clothing, so there was a lot of laughter, and I suspect, some mistranslations.  I have been going to the same tailor for 10 years, and I feel like we are friends of a sort even though we still only have about 10 words in common.  Chung Ah told us that she had watched a travel show on TV about Canada, and that she found it particularly interesting since she knew that clothes that she had made were living there.

We walked along the river to Yangdong Market to buy some things for home.  Yangdong is one of the largest markets in this part of Korea, and still remains traditional.   Along one side are the vendors selling dishes, along another side those selling quilts and drapes.  In the middle you can wander up and down among rows of dressmakers making hanboks, booths selling cheap clothes, herbalists, fishmongers and lots and lots of vegetables. I was surprised to see a bank right in the middle of the market.  Youngik told   me that the staff went out from vendor to vendor collecting their bank deposits.  That way they don’t have to leave their stalls alone in order to go to the bank.  Sounds like good service to me.

I spent the evening in The Alleyway – my favourite bar in the world.  They still have a large picture of Michael hanging behind the bar, so it feels like a good place to be.  I still have quite a few friends in Gwangju, so there was lots of company, lots of laughing and catching up, and a chance to watch Naked Gun at the same time.

Up at dark o’clock; I’ve given up wondering why planes leave at that particular time of day.  The flight from Vancouver to Seoul was full and seemed to have an unusual number of small children – unusually not babies, but 5 and 6 year olds.  They were also unusually whiny, and after the first little while, their parents seemed to have given up.  I wasn’t looking forward to 11 hours of whining, but, somehow, the worst two offenders found each other.  One seemed to only speak Korean, and the other seemed to only speak English, but shortly after contact they were engaged and a loud and lively game.  They ran in the aisles, pointing their fingers at each other and making loud gun noises.  Each time one was shot, he would flail about making gagging noises and dramatically fall to the ground.  The two young men sitting next to me seemed to only speak Chinese, but they eventually were dragged into the game as well…all of this without any common language except for gun noises and gagging. I enjoyed being a spectator – it was better than a movie, and a lot better than whining.  Even the cabin staff were tolerant – I think they also found it better than whining.

Air Canada managed a gastronomic feat – two completely different but identical meals.  On this flight you seem to get two dinners and a sandwich – I’m not sure what happened to the “noodle service” that they serve on Asian flights.  (Actually, the lack of noodle service should not be interpreted as a loss). Anyway, first meal: beef.  Second meal: pork.  Unable to tell the difference except one came with chocolate cake and one came with fruit salad. The alternative both times was chicken.  I declined the sandwich for fear it was the same meal served with bread.

Arrived in Incheon and with the blessing of the travel gods, made it through customs and immigration in time to walk out of the airport and catch the bus with ten minutes to spare.  The bus stops about two hours away from Seoul so passengers can deal with biological needs: smoking, food, smoking, bathroom, smoking.  I was too tired to interpret the food choices (imagine a food court but all in a foreign language) so I just bought some lemonade and got back on the bus.  The lady across the aisle decided to share her supper with me.  She had a little bowl of boiled baby potatoes served with toothpicks, which were delicious.  Then she shared some little cakes with walnuts and red bean inside.  I’m not really a fan of these…the red bean is sweet and had a texture like hummus, but I didn’t t to offend her when she was so kind, so I ate them. They might grow on me.

Arrived in Gwangju and Youngik was at the bus station to meet me.  I am staying at the same hotel where I have stayed for the past 10 years.  The price has gone up from $30 per night to $40, which is a great deal. It’s super clean and very convenient, and has a red light over the bed in case I’m feeling romantic.

You would think after all of the travel that I do that I would know how things work in hotels, but somehow last night I got the TV to turn on and couldn’t figure out how to turn it off.  There is a console by the bed that controls all of the lights and the TV, but no matter how many buttons I pushed, all I could do was make the lights go on and off.  That’s how I discovered the red light over the bed.  Finally I gave up and removed the key from the electrical thingie near the door, and turned off all of the electricity to the room.

Meetings today at the University of Nairobi to see if they want to set up an agreement with us.

I really like the way they make chapattis here, so I have been asking for advice.  Since most of the people that I work with are men, this has resulted in a great deal of discussion and phoning of wives.  The answer is that much depends on having the proper pan, which is heavy and thick.  When I said I would like to get one, I was told that you can’t buy a real one in the store…it is necessary to get a locally made one, and they are only sold beside some road or other.   I assumed that was the end of the story.

Tonight when Normand came to pick me up for dinner, his driver gave me a present.  He had a acquired a “real” chapatti pan for me.  This is an interesting object, a little bigger than a dinner plate, slightly concave.  If you look at the bottom, it has clearly been beaten out of one of those steel plates they use on the road.  It’s certainly thick and heavy.  All he asked in return was for me to send a picture of my chapattis.

For dinner we went to an Ethiopian restaurant.  The food is shared, it’s served on a large tray.  The tray is covered with a thin layer of something like bread called injera..it’s a kind of sourdough made out of a grain called tef.  It’s made with flour and water and then it ferments before it’s cooked so it’s full of little holes and quite lacy.It has a texture vaguely like a thick paper towel, which sounds unpleasant but it’s actually quite nice.  On top of this layer, they place bits of meat, and vegetables and lentils .  You tear off a piece of the bread and use it to pick up the food.  We managed to eat about half of our dinner, and I am now so stuffed that I practically had to roll up the stairs to my apartment.

Meetings at AKU all day but we took a break and went to Karura Forest for lunch.  It is a forest right in the middle of the city, the second largest in the world after Toronto.  Before colonization it was owned by a family who surrendered it to the British on the condition that it would remain a forest.  It all went along nicely until after independence; in the late 1980s the Minister of Environment secretly granted holdings of it to his friends in development companies.  Plans to build shelved for about ten years, but in 1999 building began in earnest.  Thanks largely to the efforts of one woman, Wangari Maathai, the developers were thwarted.  It eventually turned out that the sale of the land to them had no paperwork, so they had no legal claims.  Maathai led various protests, which attracted international attention and it is now run by a committee that is organized by government but independent.

Peter, my friend, told me that at one point, when Maathai was about 75, she stood in front of a bulldozer and removed her clothes, along with several other old women.  According to the story in the newspapers, they “shook their breasts” at the men. In Kenya, seeing mothers naked is a strong taboo, and a curse on men, and since these were old women, they were equivalent to mothers.  It effectively stopped the development as the men, according to the story, ran away.  An interesting form of power.

Tonight I am back at the apartment, sharing it with two young women from Ontario.  One is on leave from Algonquin College to do some IT work here, and the other is from Toronto, a student who is here doing her practicum.  It’s nice to have company.