Wednesday, September 19, 2012

A Weekend Odyssey in Jirisan


What do you want in the woods, my boy,
like a bird exposed to the rain?
Monsoons refresh you,
for seclusion is for those in jhana.

As the monsoon wind
drives the clouds in the rainy season,
so thoughts concerned with seclusion
impel me.

             -Sankicca




One of the strangest trips I've even taken in Korea was during a week long summer vacation in 2007 that ended with a weekend in Jirisan, South Korea's most sacred mountain.

A typhoon warning had sent me off the island I'd originally planned to spend the week on, and after a couple of days in Gyeongju, don't ask me what I was thinking because I wasn't, I packed up my tent and headed to Jirisan, located at the centre of Korea's south coast (where on one side or the other, any typhoon is bound to touch...).

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After a quick visit at Ssanggyesa, a famous temple, I continued along the path that headed up the mountain to Buril waterfall. About 2 kilometres from the waterfall, there was a campsite, so I set up my little tent under a small tree to lighten my pack and continued on to the waterfall. Just before the waterfall was a small hermitage, so I walked up the short stone staircase to check it out.

A scrawny young monk came out to greet me and introduced himself as Il Yong, One Dragon. He was pleased to meet a Canadian Buddhist and asked me if I would like to have some tea. I eagerly accepted his offer, not only because I thought it would be nice to chat with him, but the town I'd hopped off the bus in below is famous for growing the best tea in Korea. He opened the doors to a tearoom on the left side of the hall, pointed to the tea utensils and his stash of tea, then told me it was time for him to go pray, but to help myself. I felt a bit awkward about being left there alone, but quickly made myself comfy and began brewing a pot of local green tea.

As I sat there, with a shaved head, enjoy my tea, sip after sip, listening to Il Yong Sunim doing evening yebul in the back hall, an older man came up the same steps I had, noticed me sitting there drinking tea, and gave me a puzzled look. What else could I do but offer him a cup of tea, "Cha deushillaeyo?" He came in, sat down across form me, and I filled a cup of rejuvenating Jirisan tea for him. He asked me the usual, where are you from, how old are you, blah blah, then finally a new one, "Sunim aeyo?" ("Are you a monk?") "No," I told him, "the monk is in the back hall, praying." With that, he seemed a bit uncomfortable, the look on his face giving me the feeling that maybe he was thinking I'd invited myself in (being a crazy foreigner, or something...), and he quickly put his cup down, turning down my offer for another, and headed in the direction of the waterfall. I sat, enjoying the view across the gorge, down the valley, then cleaned up the space and headed out. I should have gone into the hall and done a few bows in gratitude, but at the time, I thought I might have disturbed him, so I bowed outside the hall and continued down to the waterfall.



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When I'd set up my tent, I'd noticed a few men hanging out around the campsite, and when I got back, they were preparing their supper. The shelter offered a simple menu and I ordered a Korean style potato pancake. While I waited for my food, a few of the men told me to sit with them and we would all share our food together, which is a very Korean thing to do, and I was more than pleased to share in exchange for some Kimchi stew, which was much more nourishing than what I'd ordered. Through what we were able to communicate to one another, I figured out that they were working on the trail, putting in place the stepping stones you become familiar with on Korean trails and things like that. It was their weekend off, and they were enjoying it at this shelter together. One of the men had a son who is my age, so he kept referring to me as "son" and told me I had to visit his house later.

It wasn't long before the ubiquitary 2 litre plastic bottle of soju appeared on the table ("Cheaper than water!" my friend Joe always says.) and even though I tried telling them I don't drink, they countered with the old, "It's Korean culture, you have to!" and unfortunately, it's true. It's a huge insult not to accept an offer of alcohol here. The thing is, they each took turns offering me a cup, each playing the same "it's Korean culture" card every time I tried to refuse. It wasn't long before I was reluctantly happily drunk and was relieved that they all went to bed quite soon after eating. 

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I stumbled through the dark over to my tent, was barely disturbed by the root or rock poking into my ribs as I laid down and fell asleep, for a very short time... 

The loudest crack of thunder I'd ever heard startled the drunk right out of me and I was wide awake. It was actually quite amazing how it bounced back and forth through the mountain, repeating itself in quick succession before finding a trail out. It began raining so hard I could feel the water streaming beneath my tent and every time I fell back to sleep, more thunder would wake me again. Maybe just enough of the soju lingered in my bloodstream that I wasn't very afraid, even as the wind whipped the against the side of my tent, but I actually enjoyed the experience of being so close to the raw power of nature half way up the mountain side. My only thought was that I hoped the tree I was under didn't get hit by lightning. 

Around dawn, the storm passed and the mountain was completely calm and I thought maybe I'd sleep a little longer than I'd planned, but again, the mountains had a different arrangement for me. The sun barely up before I heard the Koreanized version of my name being bellowed, "Jo-sep! Jo-sep! Bali-hwa! (Hurry up and come!) Morning soju! (which in Korea, sounds a lot like "morning dew" but couldn't be more different!) Well, since they apparently weren't going to let me sleep anyway, I joined them in their cement shelter for more soju...

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Eventually, I snuck out, and headed back to the waterfall. I dropped by Il Yong's hermitage on the way, but he didn't appear to be around, and I didn't want to knock incase he was meditating, then headed back to the campsite, where the men were heating up some left over kimchi stew.

This is where things got a little strange, with the soju and now a second day of familiarity, the man sitting next to me, wearing boxers and a big grin suddenly grabbed the waist band of my shorts and tried to hauled them down. I quickly scooted over out of his reach and when he tried again his buddies stopped him. Still with a big grin, and spacing his hands out, he said, "Canada boy BIIIIIG, Korea boy SMAHHHHL..." 

"Oh, that's what this is about", I thought. Feeling too old and too hungover for a match of 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' I tried telling him I've been to the saunas, there's no difference, but when that didn't work and he stood up to pull down his boxers, knowing it's okay to talk about male genitals but forbidden to mention female's, I said the only thing I could think of that would surely change the subject, "Canada girl BIIIIIG, Korea girl SMAHHHHL..." and sure enough, it worked! A couple of minutes later, a woman came over, permed hair sprayed in place, face fully painted in a heavy coat of make-up, and sat down next to him. "Whipuh (wife)," he said, still smiling. I guess I played my card a little too soon, but good thing it wasn't a minute later.

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Once they were satisfied with the amount of morning soju they'd fed me, they let me go on my way. I packed up my drenched tent, and wobbled my way back down the trail that my new friends were in the labour intensive process of repairing. It took a few hours to get to Ssanggyesa, but the hike down  did a good job of clearing out my system.

It began to rain heavily and I took shelter under the eaves of the Dharma Hall, while a group of monks gathered inside. Once it stopped, I headed down the trail and stopped for tea at a teahouse along the temple road. There packaged tea was a bit pricey, but I ended up coming across an old lady sitting on the side of the road selling tea and bought some from her. 

From the parking lot, I could look across at the foothills, covered in tea fields and white clouds, rising from the slopes after the downpour. I spent the rest of the morning wandering the area, looking for the tea company hat makes my favourite green tea. By that time, I was a little too exhausted to climb up any more hills, so kept my eye out, but mostly just enjoyed walking through the lower tea fields. I didn't find it, but wasn't really dissapointed. The area was so beautiful, there was nothing to feel empty about. 

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