Three times have I loved

1 (where one man's loss is another's treasure)

Two friends and I, our hearts full of high school angst and rock-star ambitions, were touring Oshawa (the "Shwa") in search of a ruckus. Finding none, we settled for loitering at a public playground. That awful thing known as boredom seemed to track us down in every place we went where alcohol wasn't. But hark!  An incoherent wailing erupted from the suburban labyrinth,now blanketed in twilight and punctuated with streetlights. We approached the source without hesitation.  It was our call to action, it was....something to do!  Even better, the noise was coming out of girls!  One melodramatic girl was crying, "no there won't! No there won't!" in response to her friends' assurances that there will be other guys, and so hey, don't take it so hard.  "What's up?" we asked the grief-struck girl. She dried her tears with her sleeve, said "oh hi" with a wide, almost too-friendly-grin. I guess this is when Cupid shot an arrow.

Through the turbulence of drugs, raging hormonal flux, school, part-time jobs and high school politics, we managed to stay together for almost 4 years, only to have things come apart when I went to university. I was having a nervous breakdown at the time any way, and I think she might have been too. It sort of came with the lifestyle. In the last months, our love fizzled off and on before totally collapsing. She remained a black hole of wonder until Facebook put us in contact again, years and years later. And then just weeks ago, I finally met her again, and her 6 year-old daughter.

2 (some become more grounded as individuals like this:  CRASH!!!)

Fast for-ward 3.5 years ahead.

I was in my final year of university, the home-stretch. My smooth and pristine dreams of becoming the next Socrates were starting to get damaged by increasing contact with reality. Worse, when I looked back at my university career,what I saw startled me: I saw a frightened, celibate bookworm who'd wasted a lot of opportunity by doing what he thought was "everything right". 

I started to rearrange my life. Frequenting a gym and pursuing a life became goals. Meeting girls, I discovered, was next to impossible for me because not only did I lack both basic social skills and any knowledge of things other than contemporary Western philosophy, but I was also insanely nervous around people generally and women in particular. The one thing I had going for me was a delusion of being cool, despite all evidence to the contrary.


My status was "regular customer" at a coffee shop on the wrong side of the street, literally.  Princess Street in Kingston marks a divide between the university bubble of happy-rainbow-campus-of-money-and-education on the one side and the street-hardened locals on the other. This was risky business for a shy boy like myself. One afternoon the shop's manager came and sat down beside me, which freaked me out. She was a woman and my nervousness was made worse by drinking my body weight in coffee. By some grace of god, my visible astonishment (fear) endeared her. I talked philosophy and she... listened to me. Game over: She had me.  

Weeks later, she kissed me and my leg shook uncontrollably; Appliances rattled with the violence of it.  This too, somehow, endeared her. The kiss was the first domino in a sequence of life-altering events:
Joy-->pregnancy-->drop out of university-->baby-->marriage-->in-law troubles-->financial troubles-->separation-->divorce.

Next.

3 (Third time is a charm dagger to the heart turned clockwise)

Recovering from a devastating marriage, I was living and working in Korea. I was there to run away from it all. I was hunched over report cards, trying to give a shit. Enter stage left: a professional-looking Korean woman who just landed a job in the same office. She was well-dressed, sophisticated, work-oriented and being polite ranked high among her priorities. What I'm trying to say is that to all outward appearances, we had very little in common. But there was some sort of familiarity in her face, a certain something that I can't put into words.  Yes, she was pretty but that wasn't the whole story.  There was just something there. That's all I can say. I fearlessly pursued her.  Not my usual way of things.  When I tried to kiss her one day, she backed in obvious horror with a weak "no". Oops.  After she regained some composure, sat down and smoothed her skirt out on her lap, she told me I was very nice. Then she went home.  For some reason, I knew it wasn't over. I was just puzzled by this obstacle.

Later, doubt crept in and I decided that this gut-feeling was just a stupid impulse, so I tried to let it go. Then she let it be known that she was, after all, interested.  And we did naughty things in the office after hours.

She later began teaching at another school and by some weird coincidence, I got hired at the same place only a couple months later. Divine providence or just lucky.  Either way, everyday day it just made my day to see her.

We stayed together for 3 years, during which I sang her songs and made nicknames for her. I never did tell her that I love her. Our relationship ended when I left Korea to start my life in Canada.

Too depressed now to continue.

The End.

An Incident Involving Tissues

Getting caught would mean a $4000 fine, deportation, and an abrupt end to my career in Korea. It would be a near fatal blow to my career as an ESL teacher generally.  I didn't even know it was illegal. 

"What was he doing?" you might be wondering. 

Sit down and brace yourself because it did involve children.  Ready? OK. You've been warned: I was reading  to two children in their living room, stopping occasionally to ask them their thoughts about Hanzel & Gretel's insufficiently incautious adventure. 

It's not the kind of crime that earns you scars or bragging rights, but it violated the stern conditions of my E-2 visa, given (uh, sold) to me by the Korean gooberment: No private tutoring.

Oops.

And it did result is somewhat of an unrelated, wholly unforeseeable disaster, too. 

It was a cold and snow-blowy February morning when my plane touched down in Korea's Jeju, a destination marketed by the gooberment's tourism department as 'the Hawaii of Korea".  Sleet was collecting on the dying palmate leaves of imported palm trees lining the streets.  I was doing my best to integrate myself into Korean culture, working my day job at a hagwon (private school) and I supplemented my income modestly by teaching a brother and sister in their home.

February 14th, Valentine's day arrives. Unlike in N.America, Korean Valentine's day isn't just for lovers.  Everybody gives everybody chocolate. Disappointed kids of the school told me this over and over, with their hand out. "Sorry. I didn't know", I said lamely. They gave me chocolates any way, which rotted my teeth as much as the guilt rotted my mood. So I, with my trousers full of chocolate and my heart full of sorrow, went home at the end of the day.  

Well, not home. I went to my covert destination to do heinous things with children: teach them English!  Walking in from the snowy streets, I was immediately pleased with warm feet. In-floor heating--a standard in Korea-- rocks. How could I know that it would be instrumental in a looming catastrophe? 

As per usual, we bowed informally before beginning the lesson. I sat down on the floor (Korean custom) and began interacting in my English-teachery ways, but within a few minutes, the parents were buzzing around me with tissues and buggy eyes.  Unable to communicate effectively in English, they just offered (repeatedly insisted) their tissues. Was this more Korean custom?  I didn't think so, but how could I be sure?  I took one and put it in my plaid shirt pocket, offering a 'thanks'. But they circled me more tightly with even more of their tissues. I don't know what they were saying, but it seemed like "take it!  take it!" Being new to Korea and not graceful under WTF situations, I excused myself and went to the bathroom to see if my nose was bleeding or my brain was coming out of a hole in my forehead. Nothing. One thing was for sure: I couldn't teach under these conditions. What the hell was I supposed to do with the tissues?  Did they expect origami?  

Be gently stern. I'm new here. They should understand that I don't get their customs yet, I told myself. 

I go back to face the tissues and I see, to my horror, a brown smear where I've been sitting.  I reflexively grab my ass and blush hotly as my fingers dip into something warm and sickly moist. I look. It's brown. And drippy. My stomach sinks.

The fried noodles, octopus, spiced caggage (kimhi), garlic soups, chili peppers, and unidentifiable meats I'd been eating since I arrived spun through my mind. A bowel-liquefying combination... 

I grabbed the tissues and cleaned my mess with no more dignity than a cowering dog. This isn't one of those "well, these-things-happen" moments that you just shrug off.  I just shat on their floor.

And the smell...wait a minute.  Sweet? Savory even.  Then it clicked.  My trouser pockets full of chocolates had melted from the in-floor heating. I didn't spring an anal leak!  Heavens bless!  

And of course I start explaining this as fast as the physics of tongue allow and of course my kind, uncomprehending hosts are looking at me like a deranged, babbling, psychotic foreigner covered in feces who won't get out of their living room. "seriouslyitsjustchocolatebecausemystudentsgaveittomebecauseitsvalentinesdayandthat'swhatKoreansdoandthechocolatemeltedanddon'tworryit'snotshitbutiwillcleanitupanyway" 

I only produced some frightened glares.
Body language, I decided. I put some in my mouth and say "mmmmmm. Chocolate".  Isn't that a show-stopper.  Just imagine. The father looked like he might martial arts my head in.

After I'd produced the wrappers from my pockets, we all had a good old fashioned laugh at my expense. Ha ha ha.  

Next blog:
The ridiculous thing I did when they invited me for dinner, the following evening.

YakCheonSa, Jeju, Korea

The 3-meter high, central, golden Buddha housed within YakCheonSa can be seen towering serenely over my friend beneath it.

YakCheonSa (약천사): literally medicine (Yak), stream (Cheon), temple (Sa).

The name is said to come from a pond situated on the temple grounds which was thought, or possibly still is thought, to consist of medicinal waters. I've heard that some Buddhists still drink from it. 

Though I've been to this temple sitting on Jeju's southern coast near Jungmoon numerous times, my latest visit was in late January (2011). Personally, it ranks among my favorites if only due to it's grandiosity.

As I understand it, Yakcheonsa is Jeju's largest temple; the languid slope of the roof reaches 28 meters in height, while the surrounding grounds occupy roughly 122,000 square meters--the second largest area in Jeju after Gwaneumsa, a temple which covers even more.

According to 'Discovering Korea', it was built sometime in the 1990's and styled after architecture common to Korea's Joseon dynasty. 

The temple's entrance, seen from inside

The two nuns at the entrance were welcoming and did not object to my friend and I photographing the place.
In the picture above, you can see the entrance, the 2nd floor, which has a prayer room adorned with pink lanterns hanging from the ceiling and mats laid on the ground, and the 3rd floor, where thousands of little Buddha figures can be seen meditating behind glass.

There is a fourth floor as well, but it is not accessible to the public.

Doing a 180 degree turn from the entrance, you can see the main alter, photographed on the right.

And turning 90 degrees to either side, there are dragons wrapped around pillars that extend all the way to the dark ceiling, four stories above.









On both the 2nd and 3rd floors, balconies overhang, offering a nice view of the main alter.

A pavilion outside, housing a large drum.

From outside you can see the Yellow Sea and two large pavilions, one of which houses a large drum and the other a bell of bronze.  Around the premises are several citrus and palm trees; around back is  a small shrine tucked inside an artificial cave named Gulbupdang (굴법당), used by local Shamans. In Jeju, shamanism and Buddhism have co-existed and co-influenced each other over time. 

The monks of YakCheonSa are styled in the Jogye order of Buddhism, a type specific to Korea and thought to be over 1000 years old. You can hear them chanting in their grey robes during the evening, around 6 or 7 pm.

Temple Stays:


Temple stays are offered every first and third weekend; a longer three-day traditional culture program is offered every forth Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The temple also offers a Temple Life program, which takes place over two hours and is great for those with busier schedules.
Yakcheonsa has someone who can communicate in English. Temple stays typically cost around 50,000 won. If you are interested in temple stay in Jeju, send e-mail to Yakchunsa. yakchunsa@hanmail.net

Getting There:
Taking the famous Olle trails as a landmark, the temple is seated at the starting point of Olle 7 and the end point of Olle 8. By car,vtaking road 1139 to Seogwipo, then left on 1132 will get you there. I also year that bus #600 from the main terminal of the airport goes to the temple.

It is open 24 hours and entrance is free.

Chilmoridang Yeongdeung gut

With Jeju claiming to have 500 temples and 500 shrines and literally hundreds of annual religious rites conducted by local shamans, to wonder why the Chilmoridang Yeongdeung ceremony draws so much attention is a natural curiosity. Why makes this one more special than the others?

The Korean national government decreed the ritual 'National Cultural Asset no.71', back in 1980, and more recently, in September of 2009, UNESCO accepted the ritual on its list of Intangible Cultural Heritages of Humanity - an acknowledgment that can garner international attention.

Chilmoridang Yeongdeung gut

Gut (굿):  This word is pronounced 'goot' and, in Korean, refers to a shamanistic festival or ritual.

Yeongdeung: this is a god/dess whose gender is fixed in neither the literature nor in Jeju folklore. These days, according to 'Island of the Gods - Jeju Myths and Legends', the goddess is known as Yeongdeung Harmang - literally, 'Yeongdeung grandmother'. The same book says s/he was originally a male god, as you can tell from the following Jeju myth (paraphrased by me) which the Yeongdeung ceremony addresses in performance:  

Long ago, fishermen of Hallim's Hansuri village were shipwrecked by a terrible storm in an unknown land of giant monsters of the genus cyclops; they were huge, human-eating beasts. Fortunately, Yeongdeung was there too and, being both a giant like the cyclopes, and "virtuous" unlike the cyclopes, he hid the fishermen from the monsters. When finally the seas found calm again, he told them to recite the words, "kanam bosal, kanam bosal' continuously until they reached home in their ship. And so with this instruction, he set them afloat, homeward bound.

The fishermen recited the charm...up to a point. After much time had come and gone, they could finally see their hometown and relaxed unduly, hence bringing them to forget their mantra. Immediately thereupon, a storm violently erupted and brought them back to the land of cyclopes. Yeongdeung was still there, luckily for them. The god saved their lives again, but on this occasion, the cyclopes knew of Yeongdeung's charitable work. In a fury, they cut the god into 3 chunks and threw him out to the sea piece by piece. Yeongdeung's head became Udo; the body became Sunrise Peak, and the feet landed at Hansuri, near the hometown of the fishermen. But despite this unhappiness, the fishermen were able to return home safely.

Many of Jeju's people believe, or used to believe, that Yeongdeung still visits their island yearly, arriving on the 1st day of the 2nd month (of the lunar calendar) and leaving on the 15th day of the same month. Hence, the 'gut', or shamanistic ritual, of which Yeongdeung is a center-piece.

Chilmoridang: the last syllable of this word, 'dang', means 'shrine'.  The chilmoridang is the name of a shrine that was once in Geo-nip village, on the slopes of Sarabong (the name of one of Jeju's many small volcanic hills). Though Yeongdeung rituals have been and are still held in various of the small island's villages, at this place it was most elaborately performed, owing to the amount of fishing and number of haenyeo (Jeju woman divers who hand-gather various seafood) who rely on the ocean for harvest.

Traditionally, the ritual's purpose has been to welcome and then bid farewell to Yeongdeung and pray also for safety in the ocean, as well as abundant harvests.

With the historical reliance on the sea for food, the significance of this ritual to the people can be readily appreciated; and it's for this reason mainly that the ritual has been added to UNESCO's list.

It is, however, slightly boring when compared with other shamanistic ceremonies on the island.  Mostly, it is prayer and costume sort of show.

 Kim Yoon Su, the male shaman in the pictures, spends much of the ritual reciting prayers while occasionally twirling slowly, or performing other rituals involving food preparation, presumably as an offering to Yeongdeung. *Yawn*

The atmosphere has a certain sacred oriental feeling, which is pleasant and often intensified by the drums and chanting, which rise and recede but then rise again to an emotional-charged pitch. 







Here are some photos of Kim Yoon Su dancing in costume to drums and chanting, for Yeongdeung.

 

(Left) A woman chanting in a hanbok (traditional Korean attire) and absolving bad luck ritualistically, with what I surmise are sacred pompoms.

(Right): A performance by a couple of women who I think are haenyeo or at least the representation thereof. The performance was semi-comedic. 

As the performance resolves, there appear 5 or 6 costumed folks representing Yeongdeung (below), and there is dancing and members of the audience are invited to the stage to dance in a circle. The audience is aged, though clearly the ritual summons a spirit of youthful in them, even if it fails to summon Yeongdeung himself.
 

UNESCO:

Kim Yoon-su, speaking on the ceremony's acknowledgment by UNESCO, says to Arirang, "I'm very happy to hear the news and I feel a greater sense of responsibility to work harder to preserve and develop the shaman rite since it's now a world cultural heritage."
A key benefit to UNESCO's tip of the hat, according to Korea's media, Arirang, is that "the value of the island's brand has increased. If the Yeongdeung Gut is developed for tourism purposes, it will contribute to the growth of the local economy".

As such, the likelihood is that the local government will provide funds to preserve the rite. Already the results can be seen. The performance photographed above was actually just that: a performance rather than a rite in the strict sense of the word. It was held 4 months off the traditional date, no doubt in an effort to gain attention rather than the religious/cultural impetus of yesteryear. 

What to make of this? Is it sacrilege to do Yeongdeung's song and dance for profit? 

I once heard the opinion of one of Jeju's locals whose name I can't recall, what she thought about the current state of shamanism, namely, that of it becoming a crowd-pleaser and a wallet fattener. Her response surprised me, and I'll try to paraphrase it as best I can: 'Better that it exists as a performance than to have it fade away entirely'. 

And fade away it would, and still might.  The audience that these kind of rites summon is an aging one, and the Jeju people of the younger generation (meaning aged 40 and under), if aware of these things at all, generally find shamans and these rituals sort of weird and tediously superstitious, but mostly irrelevant.