A Nice Night for a Hike

For the first time since 1991 Hangeul Day was recognized as an official public holiday in South Korea. "What's the deal with Hangeul?" you ask, using your best (probably terrible) Jerry Seinfeld impersonation? Well, Hangeul is just a fancy word (actual Korean word) for the Korean alphabet which was so graciously invented by King Sejong the Great of Choseon and officially indoctrinated some 567 years ago. On October 9th, (January 15th if you live in North Korea in which case you aren't reading this blog anyway), schools, offices, (some) businesses, and (no) hospitals were closed for the day so that the people could celebrate all 40 characters properly. In spite of only being barely literate with the Korean language, we (more on that later) decided to spend our entire day off in the comfort of our beds, sleeping until the early evening. Why? Because in the wee hours of the morning we were in Busan, racing to the top of Jangsan, a mountain that faces to the east...and the sea that occupies that area...east...of Korea...

Who and/or what were we racing against and why was this particular race being held under the guise of darkness? The simple answer is: we were racing against the sun. Jangsan is famous for affording beautiful views of the sunrise as it breaches the horizon east of the sea...the sea that lies east...of Korea...

This was never intended to be a race though. Especially not against an adversary as formidable and consistent (thankfully) as that giant blinding light in the sky. The question then is this: where did we go wrong? And how many times did we go there? The answers lie in the text that follows, which I've titled:

The Search for Hangeul: A Hangeul Day Celebration

Part One: I Would Celebrate Hangeul Day by Reading the Trail Markers if There Were Only Some Trail Markers Marking this Trail That I'm On OR: (How We Added 400 Meters in 40 Minutes)

Like all memorable quests, ours (myself, Caroline and our pals Jeff and Alyssa who devoted followers of this blog might remember from such posts as this one) began in a train station at around 10:30 in the evening. Having boarded the final train for Busan Station, spirits were high as we anticipated an easy 2 hour hike to the top of Jangsan. Jeff and I had filled our packs with tools and provisions: a portable, gas powered grill, one small pot for boiling water, one french press, one small plastic bag of coffee. The girls were carrying oatmeal and fruit. Each of use had our own 2 liter bottle of water and someone was carrying an extra bottle for boiling with. I, of course, had forgotten my flashlight.

Research was done. The train would arrive in Busan about 90 minutes after departing Daegu. We'd have about an hour to kill near the station and we decided that it would best be spent fueling ourselves with coffee. The plan was to find a 24 hour coffee shop, (which is sometimes easier than finding a coffee shop that opens before 10 AM if you can make sense of that), where we would waste about an hour getting good and caffeinated before cabbing it to the park. Ideally, we'd begin the hike around 2:30 AM. The sun was due to rise around 5:30 so we'd be able to have breakfast at the top while we waited. 

The train arrives in Busan as scheduled but it's here that our seemingly flawless plan begins to go awry. All of the cafes, even the one with a big "24 hrs" window display, are closed. We settle for four cups of coffee-flavored-water at the local Lotteria, a fast food chain likened to McDonalds but more accurately comparable to some fast food knock off you're likely to find in an Indiana rest stop along Interstate 80. After "finishing" our "coffee" we head for the cab stand in front of the train station.

The streets are empty so the cab ride is quick and simple, and we're dropped off about ten minutes away from the park's entrance. Having wasted no time up to this point, the four of us make our way to the large circular area (full of exercise equipment and old men and women exercising on said equipment...after midnight...on a Wednesday...) where the main trailheads are located. It's here that our night takes a turn in the wrong direction...literally...

At the center of this outdoor fitness center, there is a large map. According to the map, the right most path leads to the peak, which is labeled "Peak" and estimated to be about 2200 meters away. We head to the right and begin slowly ascending towards the top...or so we think. Twenty minutes later we come across the first trail marker since the giant map. It reads "PEAK 2600 meters". Somehow, the same place that was 2200 meters away from the start of the trail, was now 400 meters further. Confused, thoroughly, we continued on...

After about forty minutes, all trail markers have disappeared...or at least all of the trail markers that read "PEAK xxxx m". Eventually we come to a fork with the sign pointing right telling us that it leads to a village...which is appearing on a sign for the first time...and a trail leading left which again leads to a place that was previously unlisted. At this exact moment, a pack of young Koreans on ATVs come charging up the trail behind us. Perfect! we think. We know enough Korean to ask them directions to the top of the mountain. Unfortunately, these young guys are so dumbfounded that the four of us are hiking to the top of a mountain at this hour, that they spend quite some time laughing at us and asking us why we're doing what we're doing. Finally, one of them jogs a few feet up the leftward trail and tells us that we're almost at the top.  The top, he says, is at the end of the trail going left.

We thank them and they leave but something seems strange. At the beginning of the trail, the peak was 2200 meters away. The trail heading left marks the final destination in that direction as being 500 meters away. There is no way we'd hiked 1700 meters in an hour, especially since we were climbing so gradually that we could still see some the other peaks above us. A decision needed to be made.

Here's what we knew:

The hike, according to multiple resources, should take 2 hours at the most.

The trail should have been heavily signed.

The trail wasn't supposed to be especially steep, but it should begin to climb almost immediately.

There were multiple peaks to hike to, some being deeper in the mountain.

There was a military base somewhere on the mountain.

There were areas sectioned off because of landmines.

After a quick deliberation, we decided it best to hustle back to the area with the large map...or...if you're scoring at home...the bottom of the mountain.

Part Two: In Honor of Hangeul Day I am Now Reading Dozens of Trail Markers that All Seemingly Lead to Nowhere But In the Same Direction OR: (How Many Trails Can Go Left and Still Terminate in 500 Meters?)

Back at the beginning, we searched the map for a trail leading left that might give us a decent view to the east of the mountain. We settled for Anbu, which was (supposedly) only 1900 meters away and was marked as a peak. It also appeared to be on the eastern face of the mountain. Could this have been the destination that we were looking for to begin with? It only took about 30 minutes to get back to the bottom, so we still had roughly 2 hours before the sun was due to rise. With a bit of luck, we would be able to make it to Anbu with enough time to spare for coffee and oatmeal.

Unlike our first attempt, this trail was rapidly climbing and was heavily marked with signage. The only problem being, signs literally pointed in every direction imaginable and at every junction, destinations had either disappeared completely or were being called by different names. Of course, Anbu was one such destination. Frustrated, we continued on, choosing our course based on which "trail" appeared to be changing elevation the quickest.

Having powered through for more than an hour, we reached another clearing full of signs for trails, (and also more exercise equipment), one of which indicated that Anbu was 300 meters away. A short time later, we had reached Anbu...a small clearing among some tall pine trees...with trail markers...about six of them...one of which read "PEAK 900m". It was the first sign to indicate the mountain's peak since we'd embarked on our second attempt. 

We emerged from the trees following a trail that lead through a clearing and up towards a radio tower. We reached the peak with an hour to spare and the only remaining challenge being the wind, which blew in strong from over the ocean and made lighting the gas stove extremely difficult (and probably dangerous). Luckily, we were able to keep the flame burning long enough to boil water for coffee.

And there it is--an extremely mediocre sunrise thanks in large part to the clouds that moved in right before dawn. I think there's an old cliche about the journey being the best part of blah blah blah, and that certainly holds true in this case. There's nothing quite like getting lost in the woods at three in the morning in a foreign country only to finally find your way just in time to brave the elements with aluminum foil blankets...on top of a mountain...

Whatever. Happy Hangeul Day.

I Saw a Mask Dance in Andong...

...is the title of the tenth lesson of my 6th Grade English textbook and also the title of the first lesson that I ever taught in Korea. In order to commemorate (not really) my first year of teaching English we decided to hop on a bus and head 90 minutes north to the lovely city of Andong. Andong is known for being the self-proclaimed "Korean Cultural Capital" and for having been visited by Queen Elizabeth II after she requested to see the most Korean part of Korea, but I was mostly interested in the slightly freaky masks and this:

Photo credit

Jjimdalk (찜닭), is one of my favorite Korean dishes and there just so happens to be an entire alley dedicated to serving it in Andong, (where it also is said to have originated). I'm no expert food critic and rather than pretending to be, I'm going to keep this next bit straight to the point: 

Andong Jjimdalk (안동찜닭):

A Simple Critique From a Simple Man

Andong Jjimdalk is good. It has noodles. It has onions. It has potatoes and carrots. I think I remember pieces of cabbage. The gravy is possibly derived from a soy sauce base. It's steamed in a giant cauldron. It's a little spicy. It's delicious. You should probably order a side of rice too. It pairs well with all drinks. We had water this time but sometimes we order cider and sometimes we even order beer. I'll challenge anyone to find a more perfect dish and therefore I'm giving this jjimdalk, along with all other jjimdalk variations a perfect 9/9 score, (I've already explained my theory about 1-9 being the perfect ranking system in an earlier post but I'll gladly explain it again. I'm opposed to the idea of "10" being a perfect score. I like 9 because that allows for a one number (5) to represent the absolute middle while the other numbers more accurately reflect the upper and lower echelons...in my opinion anyway...).

After another successful food review, I'll move on to the real reason for our visit to Andong: the International Mask Dance Festival.

There are several small stages within the festival grounds with performances taking place throughout the day, and one main mask dancing arena where a longer performance goes on at specified times. We caught a matinee version of "Enyul Maskdance (은율탈줌)," which has also been designated as "Important Intangible Cultural Property No. 61."

The performance consisted of 6 Acts, though sometimes it was difficult for me to determine when one act ended and another begun. Anyway, I'll do my best to chronicle the show in it's entirety.

Act 1: Lion Dance

A man and his lion take the stage. The face of the man is actually more unsettling than that of the lion who has proceeded to jump around in circles. The lion also has six legs instead of four so now I'm not quite sure if this is even a lion anymore. Perhaps it's a large, white, fuzzy insect...After reading my program, I learn that it is indeed a lion with six legs and he and his keeper are chasing the evil spirits from the stage.

Act 2: Sangjwa Dance

Sangjwa is a young Buddhist monk who comes to salute in all directions, this according to my program.

Act 3: Palmokjung Dance

A group of fun loving monks take the stage and begin dancing wildly. None of them appear to have hands...or maybe they all have wings...I'm not sure, but they sure do love to jump.

After consulting the program I've learned that the 8 monks have been corrupted by Buddhism and that is why they dance so wildly...still no information about their really long shirtsleeves...

Act 4: Yangban Dance

Straight from my program this time--A monkey appears to imply that aristocrats are worse than monkeys. I don't remember seeing a monkey or anything that resembled a monkey so I'll begrudgingly move on to the next act.

Act 5: Noseung Dance

A monk, who is probably drunk...or poisoned...or just ill...crawls to the center of the stage. After dancing for a brief time, he sits and begins to chant. My program confirms the monk's inebriation, apparently he's been drinking chrysanthemum liquor and now he is indeed chanting Buddhist scripture.

Act 6: Yeonggam Dance

This was the longest act of them all and it was also the easiest one to understand. Apparently this young woman...

...is in love with this man...

...who is married to the old lady standing on his right.

After some dancing, the younger woman confronts the older woman and eventually kills her with repeated blows to the shoulders...

At first the husband is pretty angry but he seems to get over it quickly. I won't ruin the ending...mainly because I stopped taking pictures for some reason...but a shaman comes to sort everything out. After some really cool dances, the shaman helps the spirit of the dead woman and all living parties appear to go on living happily ever after.

Getting to Andong from Daegu is simple. Just head over to Bukbu Intercity Bus Terminal, (북부정류장) or Dongdaegu Express Bus Terminal, (동대구 고속버스터미널). Buses leave every 40-60 minutes and only cost around 8,000 won. Once you arrive in Andong, stay at the bus terminal and hop on the number 46 bus towards Hanhoe Village, (하회마을). That's where most of the goings-on are going on.

Tongyeong or: How I Spent My Second Chuseok in Korea

On the 15th day of the 8th lunar month, Koreans take three days to celebrate the Autumn harvest. Chuseok, as it's properly called, is a time when family members return to their hometowns in order to pay tribute to their ancestors. From what I gathered last year, children return to their parents' houses, meaning there's no debate about who is hosting the feast every year. My coteacher told me that almost all Korean families will spend some time at the home of their grandparents on their mother's side, as well as some time with their grandparents from their father's side. If there are no surviving grandparents the responsibility lies with the eldest sibling. Last year, we were lucky enough, (and forever grateful), to have been invited to spend our first Chuseok with our friend Yuri and her family. If you're wondering how that went, I went through the hassle of copying and pasting the link right here: Chuseok in Gwangju

Chuseok landed on a Thursday this year, meaning we'd have the day before, (Wednesday), and the day after, (Friday), off as well so if you're keeping score at home and are capable of the most basic form of basic math, that means we'd have a five day weekend.

Last spring, a friend of ours spent a few days visiting a small port town called Tongyeong. She raved about it and we've been investigating it ever since. The five day weekend provided us an excellent excuse to purchase a bus ticket, (about 12,000-13,000 won), and endure the 90 minute ride, (buses leave from Seobu Intercity Bus Terminal, 서부정류장, every 40-60 minutes), to the southern coast.

I've recently been studying some Korean history and I've taken a liking to the (very) late, great Admiral Yi Sun Shin, (이순신). Heralded as one of the greatest naval strategists to ever sail, Admiral Yi is best remembered for his stunning defeats of the Japanese Navy during the Imjin War of the late-1500s.

Of his four campaigns during 1592, the third, and most important battle was fought in the waters south of Tongyeong, near Hansan Island. Previously, naval battles were fought in straight lines or in circular, rolling attacks. At Hansando, Admiral Yi first employed his new Crane Wing Formation, where he stacked his heavy battleships in the center with his lighter ships flanking their sides, essentially in a "U" shaped formation. Two Turtle ships, or Geobukseon (거북선), anchored the flanks on each side.

The Turtle ship's were light and fast allowing them to attack enemy ships up close and out of the range of heavy artillery. It was common for the Japanese navy to approach enemy ships in order to board them and attack with foot soldiers. Yi's ships were topped with iron spikes, so trying to jump aboard from a taller ship almost certainly meant impalement. 

Each Turtle ship was equipped with eleven cannons on each side, including two in the stern and the bow, meaning that these ships could attack head on or while in retreat. There were numerous hatches and small holes along the sides from which arrows, guns and mortars were fired. The dragon figurehead at the front of each ship held up to four additional cannons and was used to confuse the enemy by emitting smokescreens.

Yi was wildly victorious at Hansando, destroying 66 of the 133 Japanese ships while retaining all 56 of his own and losing only 19 men in battle. While the victory at Hansando is most impressive it pales in comparison to the Battle of Myeongnyang. In October, 1597, Admiral Yi lured 333 Japanese ships into the Straight of Myeongnyang near Jindo Island on Korea's southwestern coast. By the battle's end, 31 Japanese ships were completely destroyed, 92 others had been rendered disabled, and approximately 8,000 Japanese soldiers had been lost. Two of Yi's men were killed. Three were wounded. And all 13 of his ships remained intact. You read that last part right. Thirteen of Yi's ships were responsible for the defeat of 333 Japanese vessels.

If this guy had played for the Cubs he'd almost certainly have a statue in front of Wrigley Field.

Coincidentally, I was just attacked by 6 third graders wielding plastic samurai swords. After a brief struggle, one Derek Teacher was able to successfully repel the little hooligans. I'll be erecting my own statue in the English classroom later this week.

Now that I've bored everyone with historical facts, here are some other highlights from the trip.

Dongpirang was a poor neighborhood and slated for redevelopment when a bunch of resident artists protested by painting murals all along the alleyways. The artwork saved the hillside community and is now one of the most visited attractions in the city though I have to imagine property value has since increased dramatically.

There are numerous islands to explore south of the mainland and the ferry terminal located near the harbor services many of said islands several times a day. Bijindo came highly recommended by a few of our friends and coworkers. During the off season, only three ferries sail for Bijindo daily: one at 7:05, one at 11:00, and one at 2:00. We wanted to make the most of our time so we were off with the sunrise.

There are technically two roads on the entire island but really this road just forks and then circles through the village.

We took a quick but grueling hike, (as none of us were prepared to climb straight up for 3 km.)...

...and then we spent some time in the sun...

...before calling it a day...or a morning rather.

By mid-day, fatigue had started to set it, (evidenced below), so we ferried back to the mainland for some afternoon naps.

And finally, a special thanks to our pals Jeff and Alyssa for being great company throughout the weekend.

Taiwan -- Last Laugh

I've already mentioned how affordable Taiwan was but let me prove it with pictures of some of our hotels and hostels. Keep in mind, I'm a cheapskate, so none of these places cost more than 25 or 30 USD per night.

Lobby of the Nahee Suh Hotel, Taipei

Our view from the Nahee Suh, Taipei. 

Sitting room at the Choging House, Taipei

Our suite in Haulien

Beachfront in Kenting

All of the places were beautiful, affordable, and meticulously maintained though if I had to choose my favorite spot, it would have to have been the common room of the Young-Uh Guesthouse...  

...where Caroline has either grown to gigantic proportions...or we visited a miniatures museum.

Taiwan: Kenting

Theoretically, we were going to have about 3.5 days to explore the southern tip of Taiwan but, as mentioned a few posts ago, the bus ride from Kaohsuing took a bit longer than we anticipated, delaying our arrival until the middle of the evening and eliminating the ".5" part of the "3.5" theoretical days. There were also two days of heavy rain--heavy as in the streets became flooded within minutes--thus shaving our three days down to one. This may sound like a disastrous few days, but things actually ended up working in our favor.  Allow me to clarify a few things:

1) We knew it was typhoon season before we even booked our flights so we were prepared for some washouts. (In retrospect, we were really lucky to only have 2 days of rain. The weather was great for the rest of the trip).

2) The first day in Kenting was beautiful, (more on that shortly).

3) Our SPF 35 did absolutely nothing to protect us from the sun. The fact that we had cloud cover and rain for the next two days was actually a relief, (even cold showers hurt my skin).

4) While it rained exceptionally hard, it only rained for brief periods of time so we weren't confined to our hostel all day.

We woke up on our first day and immediately inquired about renting scooters. We were told that we would need to have an international driver's license, (which we didn't), in order to rent from most of the places. The girl at our hostel told us about a place that might accommodate us, so we headed that way and sure enough, we were able to rent scooters, (The owner looked at my American license, which is expired, copied my passport number, and handed me two sets of keys). Having no experience riding a scooter, we clumsily made our way into traffic and started for the road that snaked along the western coastline.  

I should backup for a moment. We were pretty sure we'd be able to find scooter rentals in the morning, so the night before we looked at some maps and memorized a route that promised to lead us to some of the more secluded beaches. We had no idea just how secluded the secluded beaches would end up being and therefore, just how difficult it would be to find them.

After breezing along the coastal road for about an hour, we started to notice little trails heading from the roadside into the palms and (probably) down to the shoreline. When a group of scooters passed us and suddenly darted to the left, we decided it was time for a swim, so we followed them down the sandy path and ended up here:

The beach was clean and almost completely empty. The water was warm and crystal clear, (I could still see the bottom even when I couldn't touch it). We spent the whole day in and around the water, either swimming...

...or checking out the tide pools.

We rented some snorkels and cruised around some of the tide pools checking out some of the coral and the local marine life. I spent about 15 minutes following one fish all over the cove. He wasn't too entertaining though, he just kind of swam erratically from place to place only stopping briefly to stare at things and blow bubbles. 

I've already talked about the rain but I'll just add that we were able to check out the southern tip of the island in between the downpours.

I don't know what else to write, but this entry feels incomplete so I guess now is a good time to say that Caroline and I have (obviously) decided to stay in Korea for another year. Here's to hoping that the next 12 months are just as good as the last.