Tired from all the partying, on the Saturday after my birthday I decided to get out on my own for a while, and explore Insadong, a trendy little district in central Seoul. Taking a tip from Tom, I first sought out a couple of popular bookstores with large English sections, conveniently connected to the bustling subway station exits. There was a special publicity event happening outside the bookstore. Not writers signing their works, but instead, several beautiful (and apparently famous) Korean models were taking turns posing on stage for an audience of professional photographers, flaunting the latest fashions in time to thumping Korean hip-hop music. The public was left to crowd around the viewing area roped off for the photographers. After failing to resist the temptation to buy one more book, I decided to go with the flow and snap a few shots of the third glamor model to grace the stage that day.
Leaving the station, I stopped at the square in front of Bosingak, an old bell-tower site. This was the second time I'd passed by it, the first time being my first day here, when Jared and I got lost looking for City Hall. However, now it was surrounded by dozens of imposing but slightly bored looking riot police decked out with their guns, shields, barricades, and a host of white vans. I'd inadvertently stumbled into the midst of a protest – a completely serene and harmless protest at that, which I may not have recognized as such, were it not for the riot police that doubled the protesters' numbers. The young protesters were cross-legged, holding the odd sign and listening to the loud speakers play some Bette-Midler-like pop music (something about peace and solidarity). Displayed on easels behind them were framed photographs of former South Korean political leaders greeting the notorious ruler of North Korea. I was puzzled by the whole affair, but later learned that the conservative party has been in power here for some time now. They put a stop to foreign aid for the people of North Korea, on account of their government's weapons program. The liberals are a young crowd and unhappy with the changes in policy over the last few years—hence the protest in support of renewing a relationship with the North Koreans. I've also come to learn that a year or two of military service is mandatory for all men here, after finishing high school or university: hence the number of troops I sometimes see clustered around town with little to do. I thought better of making a nuisance of myself by pointing my digital camera at either protesters or police, so no pictures of the demonstration itself, just the bell-tower!
I made my way up the street bordering Insadong to Jogyesa, one of the biggest Buddhist temples in all of Seoul. On the way, I passed shop after shop selling Buddhist merchandise, and stopped in one to buy some incense, which has made a marked improvement to the smell of my apartment ever since. When I reached Jogyesa in the late afternoon, there was a sermon taking place within the main temple itself. The colourful murals on the exterior of the temple traditionally depict the story of the Buddha's life, while the ornate doors depict various scenes from nature. There was also a stone monument in the courtyard which it is customary to circle after lighting a candle. I'm not entirely clear whether the purpose was to make a wish, or pay one's respects or both.
Always remove your shoes before going inside: that goes for the rest of Korea too!
I like this sculpture of the giant calligraphy brush, with water for ink.The first place we discovered together was the Knife Gallery down a small back alley off the main shopping thoroughfare in Insadong. The gallery boasted fantastic replicas (a few authentically forged) of all types of blades from various eras: Japanese Katanas, Kung Fu, Machetes, Damascus, contemporary daggers, foils, and even cooking knives. It also included a display devoted entirely to fantasy and myth, including Excalibur, The Mummy, and a trove of weaponry and armor from the Lord of the Rings movies. It was delightful to take such a close look: though I am hardly a scholar on the subject, the power, artistry, and symbolism of the sword is something that has always fascinated me (much more so than the sterile, utilitarian reality of state-of-the art precision warfare, for instance). Swords are almost limitless in their variety and design, and their widespread symbolic significance from culture to culture, including the magical and prophetic roles they play in myth. They date back to the earliest days, inextricably linked with mankind's identity for most of its recorded history. The sword took on meaning as human ideals themselves evolved: an instrument of warfare, yes—but also a pact of loyalty, a benediction, friendship, courage, sacrifice, rank and honour, and many other things besides.
Myself and James
One hundred year old typewriter
Afterward, James and I visited a massive musical instrument arcade only a few blocks away, with row upon row of pianos and guitars, and rooms full of horns and and string instruments. I might return there if I decide that I have enough spare time this year to take up the guitar, the violin, or the clarinet again.
After shopping, James dragged me to see a nightly show at an outdoor stage just outside the mall. On the way, he explained that the host does a similar gig every night, selecting young girls and guys from the crowd at random and getting them to perform a small routine on stage. I should have been more suspicious when my host provided this information: I was headed for a set-up. Of course, even though we were at the back of a packed crowd between one hundred and two hundred in number, I was still the only visible foreigner. We got there just as the show was kicking off. I would have run for the hills when the host on stage singled me out, if it weren't for the crowd of cheering, young Koreans that turned to egg me on (I hate peer pressure). The show proceeded as follows: 8 women were lined up on one side of the stage, across from the 8 guys on the other side. Then the host asked our names and ages, and whether we thought the members of the opposite sex standing across from us were a hot ticket (of course!). Then he assigns a short variety act to each person: sing a few bars of a pop song, do a few push-ups, or dance solo or with a partner of your choice for a few seconds. They made me dance (@$^*#&!). Then there was some inscrutable process of eliminations and more contests, until only one guy and one woman remained on stage, who were thereupon awarded the equivalent of prom King and Queen of the evening status, given a prize, and cheered off stage. Woohoo! (I was out in the first half of eliminations, though I did get to dance with one pretty girl who chose me. Ah—one more reason to work on my Korean.)
Yes, I was really on that stage!
I met James again on Sunday for a trip to the Korean National History Museum in Ichon— one of the largest in Seoul, with an epic series of exhibits containing historical artifacts and artwork dating from the stone age through the entire series of feuding dynasties (Silla, Goreyo, Joseong – to name a few of the more enduring ones) up to the modern age. We spent about 3 hours there, but only had time to explore about half the exhibits in the the massive three-story building. There was one exibit on the third floor devoted entirely to the influence of Buddhism– ancient statuary, bells, and gongs. A lot of artifacts involved imaginative dragon motifs, which was fun to see. I also saw the special exihibit: paintings of autumn. The minimalistic and almost monochrome style, with a hint of colour here and there to highlight some particular season, or flowers, is so very different from the western style of art. But it has an undeniable elegance and purpose. One more great thing about Korea is that admission to museums, galleries, and historical palace sites never costs more than 1000w- 2000w (ie. one or two dollars). I will certainly return to see the rest of the museum when time allows.
Outside the museum. Like many things in Korea, I couldn't fit it in the frame!
These two sculptures are actually from India.They were in a display of treasures from the surrounding oriental cultures.
