Ganghwa-do Tour Miscellany

There are just some places that are hard to travel around and occasionally I break down and do the foreigner-take-a-cultural-tour-thing. I've been pretty much all over Korea but a couple of the hardest places to travel around are south of Kwangju in jeollanamdo and around Ganghwa Island. These two areas in particular are more rural than other places, have fewer buses and those buses are really spaced out. About 5 years ago I wanted to see the Ganghwa-do dolmen and whatever else I could in the course of a day; I was only able to see three things because of bus schedules. I ended up hitch-hiking twice; well, once the curator at the dolmen museum told me when she was leaving and if I was in front of the museum, she'd take me along and drop me off at the bus station. Wow! And it was so much fun talking to her too while she was driving ... I just love, love, love the more rural places because of a more traditional atmosphere but also because of much friendlier people!

Well, RAS (the Royal Asiatic Society, Korea Branch) offered their fall tour of Ganghwa-do so I gladly signed up, knowing I would be able to see a lot more than if I were to give myself the tour.

Blast! I've lost my notes again, so can't remember the name of the modern-stylized hanok or the highly informed gentleman who gave up the tour. But suffice it to say, he was dressed in a modern-stylized hanbok to match his brother's home and he gave us insights on Ganghwa-do history, plants related to traditional medicinal healing, other flora in his gardens, and explanations of cultural symbols ... blast, I lost my notes! Here in the picture though, he's welcoming us at the front door of his house, giving us a very hospitable welcome.



Wandering along the paths and among the many gardens where he and his landscaping teams are carefully gathering native flora from around Korea and trying to eliminate the invasive and introduced plants in the attempts to recreate a cultural past around the hanok, we came across several dogs, the Chindo, one of the three native Korean dogs. Most of the dogs were given their own rice straw shelter to fit into the nostalgic ambience.

Also along the paths were some trees with rice straw mattings wrapped around them. With the warming of the country, the Korean red pines are threatened not only by climbing temperatures but also by boring insects. It is believes that the insects instead hide in these straw mats and before spring breezes warm the earth, these straw mats are torn off the trees and burned to incinerate (hopefully) another generation of boring bugs.

As the rain threatened, we retreated to one of the many wide porches for a refreshing tea/coffee break. It'd been a long time since I'd had an outdoor tea break, since with the growing wealth of Koreans, people nowadays seem to retreat to elegant coffee houses with plush chairs and internet connections. Here we had fresh air, a water-hazed picture of the harbor with island creeping out of the fog behind, and a warm ondol floor if we were too chilled on the wooden balcony. Perfect!


성공회강화겅당, Anglican Church of Ganghwa-do


Built in 1900 by Bishop John Corfe, this Anglican church is a studied mixture of Korean, Western, Christian, Buddhist and Confucian architecture. The overall basic shape (interior construction and rooftop) bespeak Western Christian influences while Confucian-inspired is the traditional Korean exterior design with Buddhist courtyard stylization reflected in the covered front gate and the courtyard bo tree.

Another Buddhist icon is the alter or shrine which is usually supported by the longevity animal, the turtle, but here a ship, probably an iconic creation of Noah's ark holds the alter label [there's probably a better name for this].

Walking around in the courtyard I absolutely cracked up when I saw the alterations of the yin-yang red-blue symbol to include the Anglican cross. And then instead of the three dot marker or the circle marker under the peaked eaves on temples telling which order of Buddhism is practiced within, this church has a cross. Ah, the thought that went into this to incorporate familiar symbols in the newly introduced Anglican religion!

전등사, Jeondeung-sa, Temple of the Three Spirits


Jeondeung-sa, founded in 381, is one of the oldest temples in Korea. The Buddhist monk Ado founded this temple, perhaps on his route south where he introduced Buddhism to the Baekje and Silla kingdoms. Originally the temple was known as Jinjong-sa but after Queen Jeonghwa, the wife of King Chungnyeol, gave temple a jade lamp in 1299, the temple's name was changed to Jeondeung-sa, "The Temple of the Bequeathed Lamp". The lamp is unfortunately gone, but the temple is the repository of the three treasures (three energies based on Taoistic beliefs). The temple is also famed for where the Korean Tripitaka, meaning "three baskets" (canons), was carved in the 1230s and 1240s and later moved for safe keeping to Haeinsa, another temple having the three treasures.

This temple is additionally known for its unique, human-like figures carved under the heavy ridgebeams which they appear to bear the weight on their heads while making faces. The meaning of these odd creatures has been lost, but "one story has it that they were carved by a jilted lover, a carpenter of one of the temple's reconstructions, to represent his unfaithful wife in the hope that she too would find pain and remorse in her actions and suffer as these figures suffr under the weight of the heavy roof." (excerpt from tour handout)

A festival was in the works as we wandered among the many temple buildings, which are part of the 덕진진 (Deokjin Fortress). Unfortunately the festival wasn't very well attended because of the intermittent rain. Anyway, a magnificent display tile paintings was one cultural event that immediately caught my eye. I'm unclear whether this was simply a display of art by perhaps high schoolers or was a fund-raiser for building another temple building. Paying a sum of money like ₩10,000 to write one's name on a temple tile that will later be used in the temple's construction is a common fund raiser. I've never seen people painting elaborate pictures on tiles, however, for the fund-raising effort. Maybe though.

Under an awning, some elderly men were busy weaving traditionally useful household objects. The man on the left was working on woven rope for making straw sandals. The middle man, who spoke some broken English and was quite entertaining to the visitors, was making a rice measure, and the man to the right was probably weaving a rice measurer too. There weren't any takers on learning how to do this dying art, but straw sandals and other objects could be purchased as fund-raising for the temple construction under progress.

Under another awning women were weaving colored rice strands into round baskets, and then further on, a young couple was being taught how to make shamanic ducks. I wish I knew the name for them, but as I understand it, the name varies depending upon location. Ducks are used as marriage symbols (fertility symbols but slightly different than these), as "lookouts" in trees or along waterways, and probably in other ways. If we we hadn't been on a tight tour schedule, I would have loved to make a duck-art to put in a bookcase. I love wood carvings and something that has a sense of culture. Ah, too bad ... but I have some models in this picture and can make a model on my own time now.

강화지석묘 (Ganghwa Island Dolmen)

The 지석묘 is another name for 고인돌 (dolmen), a granite rock used possibly as a burial stone during the Neolithic period or even possibly for ritual ceremonies. This particular dolmen is Korea's largest standing 2 meters high, 5x7 meters in width and a meter thick. and Korea is quite proud that thier country holds about 40% of the world's dolmen, and are therefore collectively recognized as a UNESCO treasure.

Like a Fish out of Water

Frequently I walk along the riverside near my house, especially when I'm meeting some friends who live three subway stops away. Walking is great exercise and along the riverside, the car pollution isn't so bad; and then there's the bonus, many wonderful people are there and because we frequently see other, we have become on cheerful greeting terms. A couple fishermen at the riverside are there almost every time I walk past, and one guy joyfully greets me in bits of broken English and sometimes we chat a bit. [Once he even told me he thought I had lost 10 kilograms because I walk so much, and he was serious ... sometimes you just have to laugh!]


Well, today I happened along as another fisherman friend reeled in a fish. People stopped to watch him reel the sizeable fish in and land it to the cheers of his two mates. Once the fish was over land, one of the mates pulled the hook out but couldn't get a good grip on the flipping, thrashing fish so it ended up on the ground, giving higher and higher flips of its tail as it gasped more deeply for "air" each time. Eventually with friends and passersby laughing, the thrashing fish was retrieved and put into the fish cage to be thrown back into the water to keep it "fresh" (meaning alive) for supper tonight.


These guys, thankfully, aren't sport fishermen, guys who fish for the pleasure of hurting fish with hooks and deep cuts and then releasing them back into the water feeling like heroes and documenting their manliness on TV shows. These fishermen are actually fishing because they enjoy it, and when they catch something, it will go into the fry pan.

Somehow there's a difference in the reason for fishing on how much I disapprove of inflicting animal pain. Sports fishermen are insensitive and block any thought that creatures beside themselves can suffer pain; this goes for hooking the worm too, because a squirming worm is non-vocally yelling out for mercy, the same as a bloodied thrashing hooked fish. The fisherman who fishes for his livelihood and his dinner plate is understandable ... as long as the creature doesn't suffer beyond the time that it took for the fish to be reeled in. Just my big opinion!

Kids and Chicks

Walking past an elementary school, I saw a typical swarm of kids around the latest hatchings of chicks - these chicks were the typical Korean chicken but there were also smaller chicks, baby quails I presume, very delicate and fragile. The chicks were for sale for ₩500 each, no matter the type, and then ₩500 for a small bag of chick feed.

Kids were grabbing the chicks up in their hands, passing them roughly from kid to kid, one tall girl half-dropped, half-flung one down when it pooped on her, and hardly at no moment was there not a hand touching, patting or scooping up a chick or a handful of chicks from the boxes. The baby quails suffered the most. One little boy had his wrapped in a handkerchief which he frequently unwrapped and rewrapped. I wanted to smack some sense in the witless boy when I saw the poor twisted little quail laying limply on its back hardly breathing, and when it was picked up and laid back down again, it just flopped; I doubt if it arrived "home" alive. I was equally shocked that the woman seller didn't at least advise the kids on less rough behavior of the chicks, but seemed to encourage them. She sat passively in front of the boxes and only moved to take the coins passed to her or to offer a plastic bag for the latest purchase to be dropped into for its journey "home". Money is money, the message was clear.


Kids buying chicks in Korea is thought to teach (animal) responsibility. Well, while feeding and watering an animal and cleaning up after it daily does teach responsibility, I think humane treatment is not included in the "responsibility package". People here just don't have many animals to see in real life, and families with children get all excited if their child sees a squirrel in a city park. One of my western friends said that was one of the main reasons he was leaving Korea -- he didn't want his daughter growing up in an animal-destitute country whipping out her cell phone to take a picture every time she saw a squirrel. Anyway, how can someone learn humane treatment if (1) they have a deficit of animal experiences, and (2) they aren't modeled from their elders (to the older generations, animals served the function of food and were treated as beasts, and obviously from this chick seller, the chicks served the sole purpose of generating money).


Not all chicks die en route "home"; some do spend some weeks on their owners' apartment balconies. Most of my university students have had the experience of trying or even for a period of time raising chicks. One of my students reported raising his chicks on the apartment balcony for a few weeks. He said they were incredibly messy and stinky and when they got big enough, mother cooked them for supper one night.

Constructing Gender in Pansori

Dr. Heather Willoughby studied music at Brigham Young University and wrote her PhD dissertation on "The Sound of Han: Pansori, Timbre, and a Korean Ethos of Suffering and Lament", having a major field on interest in traditional Korean music. Her interest was peaked when she heard 김송희, one of the best pansori singers of all times [Heather heard her in 1986 when she first came to Korea.] Her lecture write-up is a rich prelude to the topic of music which I know little about:

China, Japan and Korea have distinct musical theater arts that embody aesthetic practices unique to each nation and which express, reflect, and interpret notions of the self. When studied in a compartive manner, pronounced differences, but also threads of similarity can be seen and heard. This lecture will present certain sound aesthetics and other vocal and physical performative aspects that demonstrate the sound and image of an ideal woman in East Asia. Pansori, the main focus of this study, provides an interesting case to investigate verbal expressions of gender ideals as both men and women play all characters in any given story, creating a trans-gendered space, while at the same time occasionally alternating their physicality, timbre and even the pitch of the voice to distinguish Peking Opera with its distinct role types for and/or portraying women, and Japanese kabuki, in which male actors do not merely attempt to act like a woman but rather create and construct an ideal female likeness both visually and aurally.

Korean pansori artfully portrays how femininity and famales are constructed. In Confucianism cultivating proper females characteristics was important as comportment and conduct defined a "good" woman or a "bad" woman. Of highest honor paid to a woman was to have a gate or monument erected in front of her house declaring her loyalty, femininity and/or faithfulness to her husband. [Unfortunately, these gates and monuments were erected posthumously but held up to other women as icons of behavior telling them what was proper behavior to develop.) On the other hand were chanyeon, or a list of "bad" women and these were held as threats to little girls as what was dishonorable for females but which would have repercussions throughout their extended households. Little girls feared being on the list of chanyeon.

The tightening of restrictions on women's behavior and comportment came with the Chosun Dynasty which began to deny Buddhism as their national religion and started to adopt the gender-restricting Confucian principles. And therefore education and indoctrination of proper behavior for women, originated in several textbooks that discussed the precise laws and standards:

Chinese based texts: Yeollyeo, Myeonggam, Yeokyo, Sohak
Illustrated collections of stories: (including parts of) Samgang haengsildo
Guidebook: Naehum (Instructions for Women, compiled in 1475 by Queen Consort Sohye, mother of King Seongjong)

Korean Pansori

Very little is known about the history, development or even who developed or introduced pansori, but it can be traced back to itinerant musicians, who were often relatives to shamans. It was a music style that was also developed by the lower classes and for the lower classes, and was not seen as something to cultivate among the yangban, probably due to its informality of musical presentation and certainly because of the vulgarity.

Pansori has three key components - song, speech and gestures. There is no scenery, just a mat signifying space, the 소리 or song accompaniment, and the drum accompaniment. The song could be news from local or the central government, a musical narration over days, and utilize many different styles throughout even a single pansori performance.


However, as pansori became a musical genre that the upper classes started to cultivate, the genre began to change as it was "Confucianized". The cheeky vulgarity of the lower classes had to be cleaned up and racy stories eliminated or altered. The pansori became regulated and a teaching tool for Confucian morals and the teaching of principles. So of the 12 pansori performances still in existence today, only 5 were permitted to be told. And so pansori, as a tool of the upper classes, came to be relied on as a story-telling tool for the education and indoctrination of women. Women were prominent in Korean narratives and the thrust became "no matter how powerful a female character may be, it is imperative that she first be indoctrinated as to her proper mode of conduct. Only through the reification of her virtue will she be awarded honor in society." To have honor, feminine ideals were proper etiquette, conduct, demeanor, filial piety, monetary frugaliaty, marriage and other relationships maintained with chastity, faithfulness and virtue. And in the storytelling, three types of women emerged to laud the proper behavior of the "good" woman, and to chastise the "bad": women were either virtuous and having valor, bawdy and manipulative, or controlling and conniving (but caring). Ideal womanhood was emphasized!

Pansori performers were traditionally men, and only three women were trained in pansori prior to the 20th century, which means women were absent from the emergence and the development of the genre, and yet through the genre women were regulated to the role of "voicing" well-established roles of the ideal Korean woman. Not so ironically, as women gain recognition and "voice" in Korean society, their numbers of pansori singers has also risen, and today there are many more female pansori singers than male.

As for the sounds of pansori, no particular "femaleness" or "maleness" is apparent in the performance, that is, there is no physical movement to vindicate the change in character enactment although two or multiple characters are being enacted by a single pansori singer. The enactment is done solely through voice change. Because pansori was developed by males, when women began to sing pansori they had to adjust to the male style and range, although range can shift throughout each performance, creating an androgyny of sound.

Of the 5 most popular pansori performances still given today, "The Tale of Ch'unhyang" is most famous as it is based on a story of a "good" woman, which is replete with moral lessons, including filial devotion, obedience, faithfulness, and very important womanly virtue (chastity).

Constructing Women Comparatively

Traditionally in the development of Peking opera, men played men's roles; men play women's roles; women play young boy's roles. In Japanese kabuki, men dominated the performances and the "ideal woman" was traditionally played by a man. In Korean pansori, there was very little distinction between masculinity and femininity in the performance itself, but the 소리 was for the male voice range, and parts were broken up not based on gender but on story. As women entered the profession, ranges were not changed so women were trained to sing with strength and power.

Korean Drama Popularized in Asia, even Palau

25 years ago I taught high school English on a tropical island in the Republic of Palau. That was an exciting year, and my memories have been stoked by a few students suddenly getting in touch with me via Facebook. It's amazing how small the world has become! When a couple of my former students found out I'm teaching in Korea, they immediately asked about Korean dramas (soaps). I knew soaps were popular in many parts of Asia but it just never occurred to me that people in Oceania too would be avid watchers. According to them, housewives (and others too) watching Korean dramas sometimes for hours on end and not accomplishing other work has become a big social problem in Palau and other islands like Guam and Yap [probably others but they only mentioned these nearby islands]. One guy who obviously disdains the waste of time wrote, "My god, I even saw one grandmother looking up words in the dictionary so that she would know what was being said!!!"

Woljeongsa Templestay (Odaesan)

Templestay is becoming more and more popular with temples throughout Korea opening up for visitors (foreigners are big marketing targets) to spend some time "staying" in the temples and learning about Buddhism. What an interesting concept for prosyletizing, although I rather think that proselytizing isn't the preferred term used by Buddhists. Anyway, the following information has been lifted from a pamphlet directed at me, the foreigner, to get me to participate in the activities designated for foreigners ... Interesting, and I thought templestay was just an overnight motel with possibilities of participating in marginal activities, not organized programs! Templestay is a moderate form of Buddhistic lifestyle enactment.

Sitting Meditation

Sleeping in the temples isn't meanst to be a passive affair, but rather one of induction or at least introduction. Sitting Meditation is one of the Buddhist practices introduced early on during the stay. Korean practices Seon Buddhism principally, and Buddhists believe that "liberation" is acquired through Seon meditation, which is for calming the mind through focus on one thing. Posture and breathing methods are taught to facilitate deeper meditation.

108 Prostrations

108 prostrations is practiced after the early morning service with the hope of achieving one's dream with the help of Buddha's blissful energy. Making repentance while bowing the 108 prostrations turns negative thinking into positive energy. [The meaning of 108 is unclear to me.]


Tea Drinking Ceremony

Drink tea with Buddhist monks and talk about dreams and life -- how did you live, your current life experiences, your life in the future. This is a time to taste a bit of hope and have confidence in your life.

Balwoo Gongyang

All people share the same food to encourage community spirit and harmony. This is to promote equality among everyone. Eating without sound teaches the pious mind.

108 Bead Threading

One bead, one bow. The purpose is to bead whole-heartedly and to reflect on the "I", while making a wish to live proudly and dynamically in order to fulfil one's dream.

Pray Service

Pray service is to pay homage to Buddha and to reflect on one's practice. While praying, reflect on Buddha's life and make resolutions to practice hard in front of Buddha. [This seems to suggest that unlike Christians who pray to a God, Buddhists pay homage to but do not pray to Buddha because each person, if he/she strives enough, can achieve Buddha status. Quite different in purpose although the practice seems to be the same.]

Communal Work Period (Ul-ryeok)

A long time ago, one master said, "A day without work is a day without eating." People in the community must work together, and the enactment of the community work is a function of Seon Meditation.



Walking Fir Tree Forest

Exercise is needed for purifying the mind, and the Woljeongsa Temple practices their walking medition with hands clasped in front while among the heavenly scented fir trees, the natural foliage of Odaesan.




Five Small Temple: A Place of Pilgrimage

Because Odaesan is famed for five mountain peaks and five sacred temples, pilgrimages to Odaesan naturally include the physical pilgramage to each of the temples for different sacred experiences -- temple trekking is in the five directions: north, south, middle, east and west.

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!]

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.

"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.

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.