Episode 60: In Which DFM Finds An Outhouse With Its Own Temple And Eats So Much Seafood He Starts To Waddle

I woke up in a panic today.  The temperature inside my room was very hot (28 degrees was the reading on the thermostat) and I thought for sure I had slept in 'til the afternoon.

In actuality it was not the afternoon it was 6 in the morning.  After eating some breakfast I decided to pass the time until everyone else got up by going for a walk around the luxury golf resort at which we were staying.  It had rained the night before, so there was a cool mist in the air and everything looked especially green.

While on my walk I saw four ten year old boys playing basketball and a rather humorous situation broke out.  One of the boys began double-dribbling quite badly.  A second boy started yelling at him (in Korean), and I guessed that he was telling him to stop double-dribbling.  Shortly after this a boy on the other team started doubling dribbling and the boy who originally double-dribbled yelled at him to stop double-dribbling (again, in Korean).  The second boy came over and shoved him and started yelling at him, which I took to mean that he was telling him to stop being such a hypocrite.  The whole situation reminded me of when I was that age and I threw a basketball at a girl's head because she wasn't paying attention on the court.

After lunch at Jee-seon's home in Ulsan, we headed to the beach.  Ulsan is located very close to the East Sea - between Korea and Japan - and while it is not technically the Pacific Ocean, it was close enough for me (same water).

After visiting the beach we drove back towards Gyeongju, to the mountain Unjesan.

I know it looks nice, but that's not a temple in the foreground it's a really smelly outhouse.

After a shady hike up Mt. Unjesan we came to an unnamed temple.  Of all the temples I've seen this one had the nicest looking buildings.

Back near the outhouse we found another temple, Oeosa (pronounced "Oo-oh-sa").  Everything was still decorated for the Buddha's Birthday season, which meant hundreds of lanterns.  Each one had a candle inside and at night some poor soul probably has to walk along and light them all.

This is probably the best looking pagoda I've seen anywhere in Korea.  I love the blue roof.

The pagoda was not just notable for its blue roof though.  Inside it housed Korea's oldest bronze bell, Oeosadongjong.  Built in 1281, Oeosadongjong had been lost for many decades, perhaps centuries, before the severe draught of 1995 though dried up a nearby river where the bell was found lying at the bottom.

Baby Buddha's Belly! 귀엽다

After a long day of sightseeing, April, Sun Hee, Jee-seon and I went out to a seaside restaurant for some sashimi.  Sashimi is very fresh raw seafood.  The meal I had featured a crab platter, a shrimp platter, a sliced raw fish platter that was humongous, and a large serving of maeuntang ("may-oon-tang").  

Maeuntang features fish that is boiled with various vegetables and then doused in both chili pepper and Korean red chili pepper paste (because one hot condiment wasn't enough).

After eating the maeuntang, Sun Hee filled the pot with the remaining raw fish to turn them into half-cooked spicy fish.  I was over filled by this point, but the half-cooked spicy fish was delicious so I kept stuffing it down.

After dinner my leg had cramped/locked up quite badly from sitting cross-legged for four courses.  I must have looked quite silly as I waddled back to the car, but I didn't care.

Episode 59: In Which DFM Visits A Museum Without Walls And Plays With His Food At The Dinner Table

Day 3 of my trip called for another early morning rise and a train trip to Gyeongju.  Before I left I said my good-byes to Mr. and Mrs. Kim and Mr. Kim's parents.  I also try out my new Korean phrase, "I will miss you," which prompted Mr. Kim's mother to call me "sweet."

Today (Saturday, May 2) is Buddha's Birthday in Korea.  When I ordered the tickets last week there was only one spot left on the KTX train for this day and it was in First Class.  What a pity.

I was excited to see what a first class train ride would be like, but unfortunately it was a bit disappointing.  There was so much leg room that my feet could not reach the foot rests no matter how far I stretched, which was rather uncomfortable.  Furthermore, the seat in front of me was so far away that the fold down tray was out of my reach and so I had to bend over awkwardly to use it.  This was not the most comfortable position either.  

On the plus side, I could get out of the seat without putting the tray up and, with the combination of an a/c unit that actually worked and 25% less people in the car (only three seats per row instead of 4), I made it all the way to my destination without feeling like I had been sitting in a pool of sweat the whole way.

Part way through the trip, I had to switch from the KTX train to the much less glamorous, or speedy, Mugungwha train (astute readers will remember that Mugungwha is also the name of Korea's national flower).  

At least the scenery at the platform where I disembarked was nice.

Eventually April and I got to Gyeongju.  I originally took this picture because I thought it looked pretty, but upon reviewing my pictures later I realized that I had actually learned the meaning of the sign on the left during my trip (in an unrelated incident).  The writing in the red circles on the pillar reads "hwan-yong," which means "welcome!"

After trying to find a reliable form of transport (the buses we needed were not coming around at an acceptable interval for two impatient Seoulites), April and I took a cab to meet her friend, Sun-hee and her friend's daughter, Jee-seon.

The four of us went to a traditional Korean restaurant, at which to enter we had to squeeze through a door only five feet high.  We tried not to bump our heads ("try" being the operative term), and were rewarded for our troubles with a delicious meal of spicy barbecued chicken and ddeok in a some sort of hot sauce.  Actually, now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure that this is the same meal I ate with my boss on Thursday before I got paid and left for this trip.

After lunch we all drove over to Bulguksa.  Bulguksa is a Buddhist temple ("sa" means temple) built in the wooded foothills of beautiful Tohamsan ("san" means mountain in Korean, so Tohamsan translates to Toham Mountain).  Many invading countries liked to arrest Buddhist monks, so the monks often built their temples in the mountains to hide from enemy armies.

Bulguksa was built roughly 1480 years ago in AD 528, during the Shila dynasty.  Unfortunately, the Japanese appear to like burning down temples more than the monks like hiding them up in the mountains, and so Bulguksa also had to be rebuilt after the 1592 Invasion of Korea by Japan (the second temple this trip).

In 1995 UNESCO (a branch of the United Nations) declared Bulguksa a World Cultural Heritage site.  Bulguksa contains no less than seven National Treasures, and it is also located in the most beautiful place I've ever seen, and is reached by Korea's best driving road (that's the most important thing though, isn't it?)  Bulguksa is often referred to as "a museum without walls."

Before you can reach the temple, you must walk over this bridge (behind the trees).  The bridge is called Haetalgyo, and it represents the crossing from the sin filled world to the realm of bliss - Nirvana.

Every reader has seen the giant rock piles from my hiking trip with Perry, right?  Here we have hundreds of tiny rock piles built by visitors behind one of the temple buildings.  There must have been a lot of praying here.

Of the seven National Treasures, these were my two favourite.  The first is Seokgatap, a classic Korean pagoda of superior quality.  The second is Cheongungyo and Baegungyo, which combine to make a massive 33-step stone staircase that represents the 33 heavens and hells of Buddhism.

After a wonderful exploration of Bulguksa, we all went out for yet more spicy Korean food.  This time the meal was a spicy bowl of soup containing a number of vegetables and a whole fish, merely gutted, but not deboned or beheaded.  Lucky me, I got the fish head again.  It had received a debraining, but I was still able to play with its mouth.  In hindsight, I think perhaps playing with one's fish head at the dinner table is not something that Korean dining etiquette encourages.