Friday, September 30, 2011

Up Odaesan on the Way to Birobong

Odaesan in 1975 was proclaimed the 11th national park in South Korea; at present I believe there are 20, and 14 of them have "major" mountains, at least mountains that attract a number of people for climbing purposes. The Odaesan National Park attracts over a million visitors each year, but it is by no means popular compared to Jirisan and Seolaksan National Parks.

There are three particular legends concerning the naming of the mountain, but which one is correct is unknown. "Odaeson" meaning Big Five is said to be named after its five peaks (Birobong, Dongdaesan, Durobong, Sangwandbong and Horyeongbong). It is also said to be named after the five famous temples recessed on its dirt slopes (Gwaneumam to the east, Sujeonam to the west, Jijangam to the north, Mireudam to the north, and Sajaam in the center) ... it seems these five temples represent the five heavenly directions as they spread out fan-like over the mountains, while the "mountains topography is said to resemble a crane with outstretched wings, as if about to take flight". Another belief in the origin of the name is based on the story that Janjangyulsa, a monk of the Silla Dynasty, studied in China and upon his return and arrival at this mountain, named the mountain Odaesan because it looked so similar to where he studied in China.


Other myths shape the belief systems of people visiting Odaesan. At the entrance to the trail to Sangwon-sa is Gwandaegeori, or "coat hanger". As legend has it, King Sejo (of the 15th Century) was praying in Sangwon-sa and left for a moment of cleansing in the clear waters of Odaecheon, Odae mountain stream. While he bathed he hung his clothes on the spot now revered as "the coat hanger". As he was bathing alone, a young monk passed by and asked if he wanted a back scrub, which King Sejo accepted. Afterwards, however, he told the young monk, "Wherever you go, do not tell anyone you washed the king's noble body." The young monk is said to have smiled and responded, "Wherever you go, do not tell anyone you met Munsubosal (a Buddhist saint) up close," and he disappeared. The surprised King Sejo looked around but could find no trace of the Buddhist monk, and he discovered that the tumor [in some versions, his incurable skin disease] on his body had completely disappeared. Moved by such a gift of a cure, King Sejo ordered a painter to make a drawing and wood sculpture of the young monk. [According to a pamphlet, the pictured Buddha image is the wooden sculpture of Manjusri, the Bodhisatttva of Incisive Wisdom and who assisted King Sejo; the image is also referred to as a casting by order of King Sejo ... somewhat confusing, but this is National Treasure #221 and is one of Korea's most highly venerated icons.]



There were many temples on the way to the peak, and each temple was ornate and unique. I believe the temple which Manjusri is housed is the Sajaam, a temple of four peaks on a steep slope.


Something I noted in the splendid artwork on temple walls and ceilings is that the young monks are very similar to the Christian concept of a cherub, usually depicted as fat nearly naked babies with wings and halos. The Buddhistic iconography portrays their young (cherub) monks without wings but with trailing clothes that give them a weightless aspect, without halos but these particular Bodhisattva have hair knotted in two knots on the tops of their heads. Other bohisattvas I've seen were bald like the present-day practicing monks, a hair-style I realize is dependent on type of Buddhism being practices, location where it's practiced and time period. Bodhisattvas are round, fat and usually portray innocence like Christian cherub icons.



Jeolmyeolbogung (Precious Palace of Nirvana)

Referring back to the monk Jajangyulsa who studied in China and possibly named Odaesan, the famous shrine where the Great Master enshrined authentic relics of the historical Buddha [Sakyamuni sarira] is behind the Jeolmyeolbogung. Many people visit annually to worship at this sacred place, which is one of the five "Precious Palaces of Nirvana" because of the relic-containing shrine.



The temple is elaboratedly decorated with dragons - dragons on the roof tiles that look over the valley with the long (futuristic) gaze of a celestial creature, dragons on the doors in different colors, but the significance of the colors is beyond me, dragons under the eaves carved in wood and holding celestrial golden balls in their mouths. The dragon is viewed as the celestial creature linking heaven and earth, and so such a symbol would elevate the perception of a temple dedicated to the dragon guardian.

Festivities were in session, not sure what event they were celebrating, but after the rhythmically worship and ritual bowing [one picture even reveals deep prostrations to the sarira of the Buddha underneath the stones behind the temple], steaming-hot rice cakes were served to the participants, and wow, they tasted so good in the chilly fall weather and put smiles on the people who had previously been deep in religious meditation.






Birobong (1,563 meters)

Birobong is also considered one of the sacred mountains in Korea; however, the Three Sacred Mountains are Geumgangsan, Jirisan and Hallasan. I didn't climb the mountain for any religious reasons but because before I leave Korea I must climb the highest mountain peak in every national park; that is 14 of the 20 national parks in Korea are considered to have major peaks and by climbing Birobong I knocked another peak off my bucket list. [I think I have 2 left!]

Thursday, September 29, 2011

A Show from the Cat's Eye View


Whew! The music went off at 9pm sharp, a happy surprise since the last apartment complex courtyard performance went until 11pm and was painfully loud, especially considering the fact that this is a family community. Tonight's decibels were maintained at a rather acceptable level (I'm sure there were complaints last time at both the volume and the late hour the "noise" lasted) although I did have to close the veranda door in order to be able to listen to a DVD lecture.

For the first couple of hours, the windows and veranda doors stayed wide open to listen to the "action" below, and of course to occasionally poke the head out and check out the stage action: whirling dancers in flairing brightly colored skirts dancing to South American cantatas, an Indian song reminding me of Bollywood accompanied by swaying arms and arched backs (most fascinating was the bizarrely elongated shadow of the twisting contortionist on the wall behind the Bollywoodinger)... Other Spanish flavored songs followed, an English ballad, and a couple of songs bordering on opera, and then a unique Korean fan dance zippily danced to the faster rhythms of modern pop - I rather liked the unique blend of attire of the past with the beat of the present!

The last hour, when people had gotten off work or away from classrooms and were starting to fill the plastic chairs set up for the free performance, the volume went up and then Korean ballads oddly salted with jazz and peppered with quavering or sometimes screaming voices replaced the internationally zesty music fest ... and occasionally an electric guitar ripped through the air and electrically thwanged on my nerves and sense of flowing music. Suddenly, a DVD lecture seemed more interesting than the live performance below that my cat and I had been enjoying from our pillowed reading chairs.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

"Three duck" folk art

The 진또배기 (jinddobaegi) is a cosmic symbol in Kangneung. It consists of a wooden pole or structure which is mounted with a trio of ducks in a modified tricorn pattern. These wooden structures were found near entrances to villages and were worshipped by the villagers. The 진또배기, as a cosmic tree, symbolizes a connection of people with god, the sky and the earth. (I find this quite interesting as the Chinese symbol for king 王 also has nearly the same metaphysical meaning!) Kangneung was principally a fishing village, and the villagers living a communal life, and one in communion with both land and sea, believed that the 진또배기 prevented floods, fire and wind damage, and would ensure a safe life. They also believed that it would bestow peace, a good harvest and good catch. The 진또배기 is now just a reminder of a shamanic past, and the cosmic trees are found now as tourist symbols but having no further spiritual or metaphysical meaning beyond that in the burgeoning capitalistic society grounded in science which denies the illogical and unexplainable.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Kangneung Beach near Kyungpo-dae (1960 ~ 2008)

Posted in a modernly landscaped park beside Kyungpo Lake is a public bathroom designed with a nautical theme, and in front of that bathroom is a metal information board with pictures showing the development of Kyungpo Lake and the annexed beach since the Korean War. These pictures show an amazement development of the beach which is a reflection of the character of the developing nation!

In 1960, not even a decade after the Korean War the expansive oceanfront beach was lined with striped white tents for vacationers. The tents were surprisingly numerous and very tidily arranged on the creamy clean sand. The number of tents surprised me as, since I came to Korea in 1991, Koreans have been 'fearful' of the sun and haven't wanted "black" skin as they put it. Here, obviously Koreans were enjoying the beach with all its brilliant tan-creating sunshine. I have two particular thoughts on this at the moment: (1) people in Kangwon-do didn't 'fear' the sun as much as the citified Koreans, although a very tiny percent of Korean were urban-dwellers at this time, and (2) the dislike of browning one's skin has been a more recent aversion as white skin signifies a non-rural, non-farming complexion and thus connotes status on the person. Probably the latter is more in tune with the sun-tanning practices of the 1960s.


By 1970 a railroad had been constructed in order to facilitate people vacationing. At that time, industrialization was off to a pretty good start and Korea was able to generate some income for urban and rural development. The population in Kangwon-do was relatively small and so spending dough on building a railroad would suggest a need for transportation to the city of Kangnung and by extension, the beach. For many many kilometers the railroad parallels the ocean, and what a scenic tour that would offer, thus promoting tourism and giving Koreans a place to get away. I'm not sure when chaebols started the vacation season in August with half of the workers getting vacation one week and then the other half getting vacation the following, but this railroad would have been heavily used during the August season. I think chaebols were well established by this time and already had those fixed vacations.


By 1980 permanent camping facilities were appearing in a tight stretch along the beach-head, in the thin stretch of land between Kyungpo Lake and the ocean. These kinds of structures could operate year-round ... and they probably did to some extent.


By 1990 the beach was becoming very well developed. Permanent cement beach cottages jammed together closest to the ocean with tourist hotels popping up behind. The two visible tourist hotels pictured would fall under the classification of "villa", or multi-apartmented building having only four floors or less. The villa, made of poured but smooth cement, was the common structure of the late 1980s and 1990s. These two villas still exist today but they are swallowed in a burgeoning number of villas and tightly squashed together taller buildings.


By 2007, a jump of 17 years, the beach front has been developed and re-developed over the years. By this time, multiple advertising signs polluted the view, and the government was disseminating information country-wide about the need to reform the clutter of advertising on buildings (that foreigners thought so gaudy and gauche). The government was also promoting a 'greener' Korea ...


... and so in the year between 2007 and 2008, the Kyungpo beach front underwent a huge beautification process, promoted by the government. Flashing lights, neon signs and building shingles in front of buildings had to fall within specific governmental guidelines on size, color, location of placement on or in front of buildings. And the 'ugly old' had to be removed to create space for trees, which had to be transplanted since the Korean government wanted (and still wants) to promote a 'greener' image and only a modern image (which I find sterile and lacking personality as the modern image is everywhere and does not change ... this to me is a rewriting of Korean history as old places of nostalgia are rebuilt).


This kind of "history rewriting" is happening all around Korea, and because of this it is very hard to accurately trace Korean development and history. But I am glad for these pictures as each "is worth a thousand words" and tells its part in the rapid development of this lovely stretch of beach.

Friday, September 23, 2011

Ojukheon, Birth-place of Yulgok Yi Yi

Ojukheon is the birthplace of Lady Shin Saimdong (1504-1551) and her son Yulgok Yi Yi (alternatively, Yi I - pictured). Lady Shin was the eldest of five girls and her father very open-mindedly gave her the private education normally given to a son, which was very usually for the gender-segregated strict Confucian era in which she was raised. Even after marriage, her husband allowed her to pursue educational interests and she was not limited to the confines of feminine household operations. On the Ojuheon grounds, according to the huge placard informing the public, Lady Shin Saimdong was "a woman of kind, gentle disposition and deep filial piety. Saimdong excelled in scholarly achievements from her childhood and became the most outstanding woman artist in Korea with her brilliant paintings and poetry as well as sewing and embroidery. She was, at the same time, a most devoted wife and mother."


In June 2009, South Korea finally approved the making of a ₩50,000 bill. There was much debate about it but finally it was decided that Lady Shin Saimdong would be the representative figure on it. There was a long debate between her and a male scientist, but common opinion was that Lady Shin was ultimately chosen for political reasons -- one reason being that Korea only had men on its monetary units and to be considered up-to-date and post-modern, putting a woman on the bill would create a good impression of equality. A lot of criticism flared regarding the "political" choice of Lady Shin and feminist were among the loudest. They felt that chosing a woman was great, but not a woman that affirmed stereotypical opinions of the female who was a good homemaker, known for her piety and filial dedication, and was renowned for her paintings (good) and embroidery (!). All of these point except the excelling in painting and calligraphy were too much reinforcement on beliefs that women should stay within the home as home-makers and care-takers and be represented and protected by man.


Yulgok Yi Yi is on the ₩5,000 bill, and he has been a strong representative figure for Korean education, politics and military affairs. As a child, he studied the classics from his mother (a rare instance of a capable female educator) and was able to pass the junior civil examination at age 13, also winning first prize in the state examination in 1564, the 19th reigning year of King Myeongjong (1545-1567). "He served various government posts such as the governor of Hwanghae-do Province, inspector general, minister of personnel, punishment and military affairs. He devoted himself to coordinating feuds between the political factions and advised the kind on the need to raise a 100,000-man army to prepare for a possible invasion by Japan. He also worked for tax reforms and introduced a system of community grain storage. He was a renowned Confucian scholar whose fame was matched only by his contemporary Yi Hwang. He led the Koho school of Confucian studies. He was an excellent calligrapher and painter."

"Memorial tablets for Yi are enshrined in and memorial services are held for him at the shrine of King Seonjo, some 20 Confucian academics including Chaun-seowon in Paju, Songdam-seowon in Kangnung and numerous Confucian shrines throughout the country." Ojukheon has its own memorial tablet, hall and shrine for remembering Yi. In the right side of this room, Lady Shin gave birth to Yi in 1536 after dreaming of a dragon standing at the upper frame of the gate on the left side. The room is also called Mongrongsil which means a room of dragon dreams. Birth dreams were very important as they were considered portentous of the character and destiny of the child to be born, and a dream about a dragon was considered highly portentous for success.

Yulgok Yi Yi was famed during his time and has remained highly commemorated in school children's textbooks to ensure a "model" for behavior and aspiration as well as a form of creating collective national pride in an exemplary historical person generally regarded as one of the great nation shapers for Korea. Here in Ojukheon, the birthplace of Yi, it is of course expected that a shrine would be built for such a great personage. This shrine is called Munseongsa Shrine, Munseong being the posthumous name of Yi Yi which was conferred on him by King Injo in the Choseon Dynasty in 1624. Note the dragon at the apex of the shrine. I'm not clear on why a turtle is almost always used to support a memorial tablet other than the turtle is one of the 싶장생 or longevity symbols and thus possibly represents eternity for Yi's spirit. But with that said, within various parts of Asia the turtle is used as a beast of spiritual burden--e.g. Thailand's old belief that the world was carried on the back of a great turtle.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Kyungpo Pavillion & Lake

Fleeing the busyness of Seoul, I spent a long weekend at a beach front hotel in Kangneung. With Kyungpo-ho (lake) behind me and an overview of the undulating ocean directly in front of me, I slept in the peaceful salt-tinged air. Although the tourist season is past (making the hotel quite affordable - I even bargained because there's just no competition for vacant rooms!) the beach was still warm and inviting. I spent a good long time wading and relaxing by the water with a book. I even intended to go swimming -- yes! shocking to swim when the season is closed, but the weather was still nice enough for a short, brisk swim. Well, I intended to wait till noon before plunging into the water, and got quite a lot of sunshine before that ... but around noon the clouds suddenly blew in and the day turned downright chilly in less than an hour! About the time the day was becoming jacket-weather, these two girls dressed in hanboks appeared on the beach and were wildly playing at the edge of the slapping swells, and shrieking with laughter. I wasn't the only one of the beach entertained by their youthful enthusiasm!


They played for about 30 minutes and then were quite glad when Mom came and wrapped them in an adult sized jacket. Brrr, it was getting cold. Well, I had had enough beach for the day anyway, so went wandering around Kyungpo-Lake again.

Kyungpodae (Pavillion)


Kyungpodae (Gyeongpodae) is the famous pavillion overlooking Kyungpo Lake. Though first built in the Goryeo Dynasty in 1326 behind Inwolsa Temple, it was transferred to the present location at some unspecified later time. Of course the pictured Kyungpodae is not the original, as it was rebuilt in 1873 and has since undergone sporadic maintenance repairs. The pavillion is located on the steep hill closest to the lake and is known for its scenic views, as it is considered the best preserved site among the Eight Scenic Points of Kyungpo (which are - sunrise view from Nokdujeong Pavillion, Jukdomyeongwol, Gangmuneohwa, Chodangchuiyeon, Hongjangyau, Jeungbongnakjo, Hwanseonchwijeok, Hansongmojong) and the Three Lunar Scenes of Kyungpo (the Lunar Column, Lunar Tower, and Lunar Wave). Well, this list of scenic views and scenes was written on the information posting in front of the pavillion, but while I can make some educated guesses about the meaning and location of the 8 scenic points, I'm totally clueless what the 3 lunar scenes might be ... something specific to learn about when I come back. Anyway, inside of Kyungpodae is a royal poem written by the famous Master Yulgok Yi Yi at the age of ten. There were more famous pieces by people I haven't heard of but even foreigners recognize the illustrious penname of Yulgok Yi Yi!

Kyungpo-ho (Lake)

Concerning the legend of Kyungpo-ho, there's a folk belief that the five moons can be seen here at midnight when the moon is full: the orb of the bright moon in the sky, the yellow orb reflected in the water of the lake, an orb also in the sea, the moon reflected in your lover's wine glasses and of course the moon in your lover's eye(s). Rather romantic! However, there have been some changes to the lake which make viewing all 5 moons nowadays a bit difficult: the lake, formerly 12 kilometers in circumference, has shrunk to a 4 kilometer in circumference lake. The meaning of the Kyungpo-do is a lake with a surface as still and clear like a mirror. This placid calmness is still true, but it's shrinking size is a threat to the migrating birds.

Sunset views at Kyungpo-ho









Saturday, September 17, 2011

Haenyeo of Jeju-do

Jai Ok Shim, Executive Director of Fulbright in Seoul, introduced tonight's research lecturer Grace Ha. Grace has an undergraduate background in marine biology and environmental conservation and became interested in the haenyeo in a short passage in her marine biology textbook that piqued her interest and resulted in her Fulbright project concerning the haenyeo and traditional ecological knowledge, a study which isn't based solidly on science but weaves science and a people's belief systems. The blurb summarizing her research project follows:

"On Jeju Island, fisherwomen, known widely today as haenyeo (해녀), have a long-standing tradition of free-diving into the ocean for seafood such as abalone, kelp, seaweed, sea cucumber, turban shell and octopus. Over the past year, Grace has been researching these women and the Jeju fishing villages, focusing largely on their traditional ecological knowledge and resource management techniques. Grace has been specifically investigating what implications this disappearing way-of-life may have on future marine conservation efforts."


Grace Ha collected her research through literature research and language study prior to going to Jejudo and more while on Jeju. She conducted interviews and had personal communication with the haenyeo, fishing cooperative leaders, and scholars on the topic. And she also participated in the hanyeo school, not really a school but a practice hands-on in-the-water one-day (or more) experience of being a haenyeo. She laughingly said that when she participated and took her dive, without prior training as the training is "in the water", the haenyeo in charge of her just pointed down into the depths of the water and said things like, "Hey, you didn't stay down long enough" or "You'll never collect anything if you don't go deeper" or "What are you doing? Go down again!" And that was her experience at the haenyeo school! While many haenyeo can go down as much as 20 meters and stay down up to 3 minutes, the average is 5-6 meters and underwater 1-2 minutes. There is no way that a beginner could or should attempt such, but by pushing one's self, one can supposedly expand the human limits of diving.

The Haenyeo of Jejudo

The haenyeo (해녀/海女), which means 'woman of the sea', have also been known as jamsu, literally 'entering into the water' but having the traditional meaning of 'divers/diving women'. Jamnyeo is another traditional term and is translated roughly the same. The haenyeo are not mermaids, indomitable Amazons or super-women. They were and still are divers, using no breathing equipment, only a rubber suit, mask, fins and weights. They carry a float (태왁?), a net (마앙사리), a spear (작살) and a curved pick or sickle (비창?). They had a job, low-class and underpaid in Joseon Dynasty, but one which gave them income and therefore independence in the highly regimented Joseon dynasty when women were seen as only homemakers and child breeders. The diving for sea urchins, sea abalone and other sea goods on the ocean floor was a job principally for women, ironic as it may seem. Men's jobs were related to the hazards of fishing (beltfish, squid, etc) in the turbulent waters, both far and near, around the island. Many died fighting the treachery of ocean and a large female population remained.


Whether a large portion of haenyeo are Christians, I don't know, but I do know that there are many shamanistic rituals, an annual shaman festival for the gods of the ocean which includes a gut (exoricism) to appease angry gods and pay tribute to protective ocean and natural element spirits. In Korean communities that have lower education and are living close with the elements, shamanism is still strong and the approximate 100 villages harboring haenyeo maintain rituals and beliefs for their spiritual well-being while in the ocean.

In recent years, the haenyeo have become a tourism symbol of Jejudo, the island known for its 3 Ws — wind, water, women … and of course rocks. This tourist symbol will be just that and nothing more in a few years as the haenyeo discourage their daughters from entering the trade, and a rapidly declining number of elderly haenyeo comprise the majority. Many die - the young, the old, the experienced - in their attempts to stay under the water as long as they can in order to gather the most sea products as possible. The trade is dangerous, not to mention physically demanding and now women, no longer contrained by rigid gender roles, can have other jobs and ones which are both safe and guarantee independence, so haenyeo mothers refuse to teach their secrets to their daughters, as becoming a haenyeo is a trade passed down only from mother to daughter. So, the traditional ecological knowledge is dying with the aging haenyeo.


By definition, traditional ecological knowledge is "A cumulative body of knowledge, practice and belief evolving by adaptive processes and handed down through generations by cultural transmission, about the relationship of living beings (including humans) with one another and with their environment" [Berkes, Colding and Folke, 2002, 'Rediscovery of traditional ecological knowledge as adaptive management' Ecological Applications 10:1251-1262.] What the haenyeo pass along to their daughters is a keen understanding of the tides, underwater geography and topography, weather and waves, ecology of marine life according to season, and much more. They have their own specialized folk taxonomy of the ocean and are aware of spatial changes within the ocean and to a large extent aware of the impact their local development has on the marine ecosystem. They also pass along communal cleaning and gardening techniques, that is, they 'weed out' underwater plants that invade or encrouch on the garden territory of the more desireable flora and fauna.

In 1966, there were 23,081 registered haenyeo but those numbers have dropped to 4,995 in 2010 with 43.3% of the diving women 70 years old and older. With the advent of rubber suits for the haenyeo in the 1970s, a drop in the numbers of underwater fisherwomen was appropriate but those numbers are still rapidly declining. Prior to the rubber suits, the women wore cotton smocks and could dive for only 2 hours max per day, taking breaks to warm themselves, but the rubber suits made it possible to dive for 6-7 hours straight, which really taxed the ocean's gardens around the island.


Since the 1970s, overfishing has become a ecological problem, not to mention the pollutions from fish farms that have sprung up around Jejudo. Marine ecology is further damaged by climate change, resulting in the disappearance of algae and key species extending the Korean diet. To try to control the ecological decline, current resource management in Jeju fishing villages has resulted in top-down policies like (1) no diving during breeding season [which last 2-3 months. It seems the haenyeo dive year-round but when certain species are breeding, those species are not to be including in their "catch of the day"]; (2) catch size limits on species have been imposed, and (3) diving is limited to a certain number of days per month as based on neap tides, ex. ~15 days/month; and finally (4) a guard is posted on fishing grounds to prevent poaching [there is a lot of competition between villages ... not just local competition that exists even between mother and daughter].


Grace presented an interesting twist of opinions regarding the future ecology of the ocean around Jejudo if the haenyeo cease to exist as fisherwomen. One opinion is from Youngsoon Go, Sehwa-ri fishing cooperative leader and the contrasting opinion is from Baekyeon Im, Hado-ri fishing cooperative leader. Youngsoon Go says, "Without haenyeo around to keep overfishing, Jeju's oceans will be able to recover" while Baekyeon Im says, "Without haenyeo, who will be here to ensure Jeju has healthy oceans?" Both have a point. While the haenyeo now tend to overfish having the advantage of working longer with the advantage of their rubber suits, they still garden and cultivate the ocean of unwanted flora - three examples of the valuable garden of Jejudo but which other countries see as invasive are two kinds of seaweed and a crab, all much loved by Koreans and encouraged to reproduce and grow in the gardens around Jeju.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

A Word on K-Pop

"K-Pop influences Korean society but Korean history and social development have influenced K-Pop" was Emilie Chu's opening line to her lecture entitled "K-pop Mirroring Korea or Korea Mirroring K-pop?" Although I am not personally interested in K-Pop, the write-up was another glimpse into the multi-facted social gem of Korea, and I felt I needed to delve into a new facet of Korea to broaden my own cultural horizons:

"Like the country itself, South Korean popular culture and music has grown to take on an international presence over the past ten to fifteen years. Cultural figures, from Seotaiji [a rapper who retired at the height of his popularity and then shockingly attempted, and did make a comeback, in rock music even though his rapping was not particularly out-of-date] to g.o.d. [still active in ballad style but 2001 saw them at the pinnacle of success] to TVBQ to Big Bang [particularly popular in 2005 with rapping, and with lyrics rather meaningless as their ultimate focus is for rhyme and rhythm] to BoA [who debutted with SM Entertainment, the biggest entertainment industry, and then marketed herself through a Japanese music entertainment company], have been making waves in steadily increasing extents, to the point of becoming a dominant force and current standard throughout Asia. Yet there are a number of lesser known factors behind the words they sing and the images they present, as well as the implications of such works. Thanks to Fulbright, this past year Emilie Chu has been able to study the relationship between Korean pop music and Korean culture through its history, society and industries by examining Korean songs within their local context, and has found some very interesting connections between cultural expression and representation."

To begin, Emilie stated that song and record need to be clearly defined as they are not synonymous and understanding their concepts within the Korean context is crucial to understanding their sociocultural significance. Therefore, a song is 'words + melody' and needs songwriters, lyricists and composers. The lyrics themselves should be more than just cliché, can comprise an element of language play with metaphor, can be "fun" or thought-provoking, or even can be experiential and having subtle biographical influences reflecting culture and social attitudes. Record, on the other hand, is a craft combining the skills of singers, musicians, arrangers, producers, recording engineers, among others, with the purpose of creating a powerful performance, an artist or group with a unique identity or sound, a great arrangement, or possibly even produced for business considerations such as timing or promotion.

K-Pop is not necessarily Hallyu (the Korean wave) although it can be. When Emilie showed the top 10 songs for each of the years in the past decade [except 2008 and 2009 as the music industry was undergoing change resulting in government marketing under the Ministry of Culture in order to standardize and centralize the ratings, sales, etc], rather consistently the top three songs in the list were little known in the room of expats, several of whom were K-Pop fans. According to Emilie, such anonymity of top songs among the K-Pop loving expats just goes to show that though many songs were wildly famous in Hallyu, not all the songs were known outside of Korea, but rather were so popular in Korea and marketed solely for Koreans that they were popularized alone by local sale.

Common Themes and Tropes

At the turn of the century, K-Pop focused on idealized (and rather tragic) love or parting, evoking a romantic concept intermixed with the Korean han (a cultural sorrow for what was and can never be again). Songs were idealistically focused on puppy love and the "cute concept", so evident in "pure and sweet" first date relationships, knick knacks and souvenirs, Hello Kitty popularity, and kitsch culture memorabilia. Songs also were on attraction, suggesting a "sexy concept", rather an ironic twist on the "pure and sweet". And many songs also were a type of confidence anthem, a new genre of song sung primarily by females who, I feel, are being emancipated in Korean society and now challenging, perhaps overturning, the stigma of "femininity" and attitude of being "substandard" to male-dominated society. What Emilie brilliantly pointed out is that the songs in the past decade were mostly about individualism, and rare were the songs about family, friendship or commentaries on life. [In writing this, these twenty-first century K-Pop songs can be likened to someone singing solely about a wedding, but not the marriage itself ... that is, they are a reflection of love but that which is unrequited, not experienced and which therefore has no future.]

K-Pop: The "Good" and the "Bad"

K-Pop, if evaluated for its positive or negative function within the Korean society, can be said to have four positive factors in its favor: (1) identity - it has given Koreans an identity in the international community that they as a collective nation can say is "successful", (2) international doorway - now that it is recognized as an international music genre, Korea hopes to gain more international acclaim, not necessarily through music, (3) community - as a nation grounded in Confucism, collectivism and community still have inherent values and although Korea is rapidly changing, K-Pop success and acceptance furthers confidence and elicits sentiments of comradery and togetherness, and (4)the "fun" factor - the wide variety of K-Pop singers and groups provides on-going entertainment for subway riders, commuters, music circles, beer halls ... and is just a fun form of entertainment, made easily accessible on the ubiquitous digital equipment in public or in pocket.

K-Pop, on the other hand, (1) lacks diversity - the music is all rather homogenous, just as the Korean people have claimed blood homogeniety, and as a result, variation is seriously lacking, (2) creativity/musicianship - singers are rarely composers, they are just that, "singers". One of the original g.o.d. singers invoked a Korean slang "lounge loser" for the type of singer who simply goes on tours, only sings and is a face for the music industry that does the writing, creating, etc. He broke away from g.o.d. to attempt a more creative approach to music. (3) personal identification and expression - related to creativity and musicianship, singers are not allowed any poetic license but must sing what the music industry decrees, and (4) objectification - singers are objectified, become objects to imitate, scorn, gossip abour, and who as a result lose any semblance of a "normal" life but must always be a "face" for the Korean market.

Wrapping Up

The Japanese market is the second biggest market for Korean K-Pop (with of course Korea being number 1). The reason for this is there isn't pirating (not much anyway) in Japan and the Japanese are big purchasers of physical albums rather than downloaders of the digitally available online albums and/or songs.

I gained a lot of insights on the K-Pop industry and although I'm still not an avid listener, at least now I feel slightly more informed on the development of the industry and the quick evolution of the songs in a mere decade. For more information on K-Pop view Emilie Chu's blog at http://songprints.wordpress.com/

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Nostalgic Diner in Insa-dong


Just three months ago via a stateside friend I "met" a fellow anthropology graduate, Leah, who ventured to Korea and this past week welcomed her mom for a brief visit to her new country of residence. Somehow I met the mom over the internet too and we three decided to finally meet in person and have an afternoon hiking adventure behind Sungkyunkwan University. After a hike up the hills in the steamy weather and down the other side, we ended up in Insa-dong where we had to decide which Korean food would be most appetizing as an introduction to the mother. We settled on a bi-bim-bop restaurant to treat Josephine to some vegetables and rice prepared with a pungent soybean soup.

To attact foreign clientele, menus in the touristy Insa-dong are posted in both English and Korean on A-frames outside their respective restaurants. It used to be there was no menu except the one hung on the inside wall, but touristy areas post their menus outside their restaurants, and many restaurants in the bigger cities now offer booklet menus to guests seated at tables [the concept borrowed from the West]. Looking at the pictures of the food spreads on an A-frame, I was explaining the bi-bim-bop to Josephine when suddenly a Korean woman interrupted and spouted how she'd like to recommend the bi-bim-bop to us because it's such a traditional food and loved by all Koreans and blah blah blah. Errrrgh, sometimes I get very annoyed with people who interrupt conversations, especially when I'm in a deep in a conversation and am completely devoid of a blank lost look ...

The female passerby probably thought she had really recommended a classy meal to the "poor, uninformed" foreigners because we did go in. Not only did the food look tasty on the A-frame posting, but also the restaurant can easily market itself for ambiance with its rich wooden decor of a hanok-style construction somewhat reminiscent of 50 or more years ago. We sat in a courtyard, with a cheap plastic canopy overhead to keep the air conditioning in and mosquitoes out; I rather think that those two functions were its only functions as the looseness would certainly not hold water in any kind of rain shower. The food was splendid, and Josephine enjoyed her introduction to one of the choice cuisines of Korea. The place was really crowded with more Koreans than "foreigners", which is a good sign of a good restaurant. But at the cash register, the restaurant took on a more historical charm for above the register was a wall hung with old photographs of Korea, pictures of daily social interactions, dress attire, means of making a living and most were representative of the working class, and not the yangban class! When the cashier saw me looking at the wood framed photos, she got excited and volunteered explanations on many of them. I was especially enthusiastic about the pict of a peasant carrying a amount of large baskets on his A-frame carrier; I'd never seen or heard of anything like it!

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

North Korean 만화

Jacco Zwetsloot gave a powerfully interesting presentation on the genre of 만화 or "comic books" in North Korea. North Korean comic books "have been in publication since at least the early 1980s, despite paper shortages at times. Some of them are barely more than illustrated storybooks for children, others are caricature-filled horror stories, while still others are finely crafted graphic novels - with barely believable plotlines. The content of these "comic books" vary, but many seem to fall into three broad categories:
1. warnings against spies and how to spot them
2. cautionary tales about the evils of the world
3. heroic tales set during the Korean War or pre-1910 Korean history"

The comic books target various ages, even well-educated adults. Unfortunately, they are hard to find outside of the DPRK, but they can be similarly hard to find within it too. An interesting few points of the North Korean comic book are the interminable long sentences, repetitive passages about juche [North Korean "self reliance"] and seongun [North Korea's "military first policy"] and imperious injunctions by the Great and/or Dear Leader. North Korean comic books, therefore, are not for pure entertainment purposes but to be used as propaganda tools and social and/or political weapons.

Comic Book Trends

Some trends that Jacco was able to point out are the shifts in comic book themes over time. In the 1960s to early 1980s, Kim Il Sung was frequently portrayed as the leader of the anti-Japanese struggle. In the early 1980s to early 1990s the emphasis was placed on ideology (with Kim Il Sung dead, of course there would have to be a change in theme). Art remained ossified through the decades as it appears with the closing of the borders to imports, lack of foreign artistic expression limits the creative imagination and results in stagnation. Characters are predictable based on nationality, class, and political position. Bad guys never reflect on their evil ways and the good guys never waver. North Koreans who follow the political viewpoints of juche are "good", and keeping that in mind, the antogonists are quite predictably bad. Primary antagonists are:

spies (anti-regime North Koreans)
US soldiers
feadal landlords
capitalists
lusty women
Koreans who have lived in America or who work for Americans
Japanese who return (to Korea) to help Americans

It must be said that when the North Koreans are writing or talking about Americans, Americans are always labeled as ~놈 (bastard) and ~년 (worse than "bitch"). [Many tourists have reported this strange phenomenon, even the NK children are raised refering to Americans as such and do not recognize such language as vulgar or socially wrong. In fact, such vulgar language is seen as socially correct.

Common conflicts are centered on (1) feudal Korea (landlord bastards and the hard-working peasant conflict), (2) North Korea at present (pro vs. anti-regime struggles) (3) South Korea (pro-Korean vs. racial traitors, meaning particularly Koreans who work with Americans), and (4) Korean War (all possible character types as Korea was a mish-mash of terror on multiple levels during that time).

And some common themes for today are (1) kids as spy-hunters to help the nation, (2) kids as agents of violence, (3) re-writing Korean War incidents (North Korea realistically still loses the war, but some battles lost were rewritten as won; real names, places and incidents are referred to, but truth is wildly distorted), (4) evil bastard Americans, (4) the world outside of North Korea is a scary place. (Now is that the reverse ideology of what "we outside of North Korea" say about living IN the North!)

The comics aimed at kids seem pretty standard within North Korea as well as "outside". Those comics are often anthropomorphised with animals, they are morality tales and speak against laziness. They also emphasize loyalty and a following of the rules, which is good, but the North Korean comics books do not allow for deviation of juche principles, the rules are very restrictive and absolute loyalty is demanded. And then perhaps most different is kids are spy hunters - from the time they are young, they are taught (brainwashed, depending on your perspective) to aggressively eradicate the evil of the "foreign". An example of this type is the comic, 총을 쥐소년등 or "Kids with Guns". The story is set during the Korean War, and kids in the village start up their own resistance group to fight occupying South Korean/US forces. They raid an armory, steal guns and uniforms, and kill lots of soldiers.

Consistent to the North Korean comic books is that Americans are capital imperialists and they are evil. Missionaries are not seen favorably in North Korea but one particular comic book even attacked the Underwoods, a most famous missionary family who even in our lecture had a fourth generation Underwood present. The protestant Underwoods were portrayed in the book as dressed like Catholics, translating texts in a picture very reminiscent of John Wycliffe and then the family members were referred to in the most vulgar manner. (Again, perspective on who is speaking determines politically correct language. The follow translation to English cannot give the justice to the vulgarity of the terms used.)


Jacco gave many examples of portrayal, imagery - both visual and linguistic, and theme and plot. The last one I'll give an example from his many examples is the comic book "A Sick and Twisted World", a series of books that teaches life outside of North Korea as evil. In the series are 13 stories of terrible deeds from around the world although many of them take place in South Korea. Book 7 has an exemplary quote from the Dear Leader, Kim Jong Il himself, "Capitalist society is, basically a sick and twisted society, one without a sense of what's right, and one that is nearing collapse." And in that section the picture portrayals are of super-obese Americans [well, well more than 50% are in fact overweight], eating prodigious amounts of food [well, truth again], cramming the food and all sorts of unidentifiable garbage in their mouths [hmmm] ... maybe only the quote is incorrect here.

One would think that after reading the above samples of North Korean comic books that they are all political. That would be a very incorrect assumption, but the point emphasized in the lecture is that many of the comic books are for glorifying the juche regime and used as propaganda tools.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Hansen's Disease on the Korean Peninsula

Joji Wilson Kohjima, Fulbright researcher with interests in medical anthropology and medical practice, is the great grandson of Robert Manton Wilson, an American missionary who worked as a doctor for Hansen's disease in Korea from 1907 to 1941. Joji's research is on a topic shunned and of a people ostracized.
"Hansen's disease in Korea historically existed at endemic levels until effective drugs became available in the 1930s to 1950s. [The disease] has been referenced in Korean literature for centuries even including some Chosun era mask dances. In the 20th century, Hansen's disease patients became what professor Jeong Keun-Shik of Seoul National University refers to as 'the most significant social other' in ethnically homogeneous Korean society. They have alternately been used as symbols of national shame, Christian salvation, Japanese imperial benevolence, and finally Korea's national "han" or sorrow.

Joji Kohjima's research deals with the efforts of Hansen's disease patients to tell their own story, and to seek restitution for their treatment under Japanese colonialism and post-colonial Korean governments. He has been researching ... Aeyangwon hospital in Yeosu and Sorokdo National Leprosy Hospital in Sorok Island, Jeollanamdo. This forum will explore leprosy in Korean society as a phenomenon originating at the microscopic level of bacteria but extending to the level of social constructs in the discrimination, otherization and isolation faced by leprosy patients. Largely originating in Japanese colonial policy, patients have historically faced quarantine, forced labor, and forced sterilization as they were caught in the triangle of Japanese colonial government, missionaries, and an often hostile Korean population."

Hansen's Disease in Korea


Basically, Hansen's disease or leprosy is caused by a bacteria that attacks the nervous system, both the autonomic nerves and sensory nerves, which results in a widespread variety of symptoms ultimately resulting in deformities, caused by a build-up of bacteria, in the extremities and working its way to the body core.

Historically, lepers in Korea were forced to live a life separated by the "civilized" or healthy peoples. They were not allowed to enter cities and were stoned if attempting to do so, they were the objects of many wild and nefarious tales that furthered ostracization within the society, and because there was no known cure or treatment, lepers were greatly feared. Fear breeds anger, hatred, violence, torture and lack of understanding or compassion, and therefore lepers were the marginalized "social others". Korea is a culture predominantly of one ethnicity and leprosy sufferers were considered almost as if they were another race, and many tales of boogie-man caliber existed to keep them ostracised or "other-ized", such as lepers feast on healthy children's liver [suggesting that healthy young livers could be powerful antidotes to the leper's unhealthy state ...]

In 1904, Scottish Missionary Wiley Forsythe arrived in Korea and he became very symbolic as a Christian to value the lives of Korean people [he was attacked in 1906, left Korea for treatment but adamantly returned again the next year] and the life of lepers, namely a leprous woman in 1909. Though many versions of the tale exist, the apocryphal account is of Wiley Forsythe in some stories as seeing a leper woman being stoned by some villagers, so he put her on his own horse [in Korea at that time, dignitaries always rode and were led around by someone calling out their status - if they had a horse, they would not walk] and, leading the horse, took her to a mission hospital where she could get help. Before leaving her at the hospital where of course she could not be admitted in, he even made sure she had a place of shelter, a brick kiln, where she could stay while being treated.

In 1907 Robert Manton Wilson came to Korea as a medical missionary for the Southern Presbyterian Church. Dismayed at the lepers begging and wandering the countryside, he establish a leprosarium in Kwangju, and around 1920 the patient population peaked with over 1,100 patients, making it the largest leprosarium in Korea. With its continued growth and the growing fear of the "contagion" in and around Kwangju, the leprosarium was relocated between 1926 and 1928 to the Yeosu peninsula ... [how appropriate to marginalize the already marginalized at the margins of the nation]. He remained for decades administering to the Koreas, but when WWII broke out, he departed although he did return for a brief 3 months in 1947 at the behest of General McArthur as many leper patients had wandered away from their registered leprosarium. Missionary Wilson was regarded with great respect by the lepers, and, in another lecture I heard, when a memorial stone was constructed in Kwangju to commemorate his great efforts in Korea, a group of lepers broke out of the Yeosu colonies and traveled in the secrecy of many nights to "steal" the stone and take it with them back to Yeosu, such was their respect for the missionary doctor who did so much for them!

In the early days of the leprosariums, there were no known drugs for leprosy, but the missionaries had various levels of treatment. For the physical ravages of the disease they injected an Ayurvedic oil called Chalmoogra Oil [it didn't help]; for spiritual help those wanting treatment were required to join the church; for supporting themselves they were taken from the life of beggary and given vocational training; and finally, for their socialization genders were segregated to prevent the procreation of more "outcasts". Some marriages between lepers were allowed, but men were persuaded to get vasectomies [for missionaries this seemed to be the solution to controlling the population of lepers but later vasectomies were a political mandate of the Japanese colonial rule] and married lepers could adopt leper children who were brought into the leper colony.

The Rise of State-model Leprosy Colony on Sorokdo


In 1916 the Sorokdo leprosy colony was established, by whom I don't know, but in 1933 Suho Masasue, a Japanese doctor and sanitary officer, took over as director, and expanding on the role of the "national leprosarium" in Korea that would control this pestilential disease under the more effective Japanese colonialism, Sorokdo became know as one of the important national leprosariums, with population peaking during WWI with around 6,000 patients. To put this large number for one colony into perspective, the total number of lepers in the 1940s and 1950s is estimated around 100,000~150,000.

It seems that under Japanese colonialism, lepers were not allowed to marry as in the Yeosu peninsula the men were housed in simple houses on the western side and women on the eastern. Control was intended to be absolute and people who were known to establish any similar political interests were separated and relocated to various villages on the peninsula. The leprosarium on Sorokdo was for political activists, rascals and criminals, and to be sent there was to be sent to the harshest environs for "controlling" the disease as well as controlling any political unrest. One such person sent to Sorokdo was leper inmate Lee Sung-San who assassinated the Japanese doctor Suho Masasue in 1942.

Leprosy in Korea Today

There are 14,200 registered cases of recovered leprosy patients living in Korea today. Of these, 10,900 are registered as disabled, and 332 are listed as "active" patients. The predominant number of people with the leprosy bacteria are over 40 years of age, and fewer that 10 "new cases" are registered each year. The majority of recovered leprosy patients live in agricultural settlements, approximately 5,000, and yes, there is still a stigma to marrying anyone, even a relative, of a leper so the "social other" still exists in Korea today. To illustrate, just three or four years ago three (healthy) children were reported to have disappeared and as the children's community was tangent to a leper community, rumors of the lepers stealing the children for recovery rituals were rampant. The children were found, no kidnapping had happened, but the dormant rumors and wild imaginings of the feared "other" have obviously never been put to sleep with modern medicine.