Local student spends one week in Seoul

robes the monks wear.  When we reach Jogyesa Temple, every building in the little complex is decorated with bright, paper lamps, wreaths of decorative cabbage and papier mache stars.  Jogyesa is a working temple--this means that when we take off our shoes to walk inside the main temple building. There’s a scent of incense, a dozen or so people bowing on low cushions in prayer before the three huge, gold statues of Buddha and the glow of dozens of candles and lamps. I’m hushed by the reverence of this place and awed by its intricate beauty.  

Thanks to jet lag, we’re all up early on Saturday to enjoy a morning stroll to the Blue House, where the president of South Korea lives, content with admiring it from a distance.  (There are enough police around the area to stave off a small invasion.)  We learn that the mountain behind the Blue House has been almost completely occupied by the military ever since a North Korean assassination attempt.  I ask my uncle if people here are worried about the situation in North Korea--Kim Jong Il has just died, and things seem unstable with the shifting of powers in an already volatile country neighboring.  But he says that no one is more concerned than usual; it almost seems as if South Koreans have become so accustomed to living under the threat of their northern neighbor that it would take much more to worry them.  

Next, we stop at the Gilsangsa Buddhist temple on a nearby mountain, surrounded by thick forests and slopes steep enough to shut out the noise of the city below.  The peace and stillness of this place are broken by the sound of monks chanting.  As quietly as we can, we take off our shoes and slip in the back doors of the main temple. A few Korean women sit near the door on cushions, prayer beads in their hands.  Before them, monks with shaved heads and grey robes chant in steady, deep voices as thin ribbons of incense smoke curl around platters of fruit and golden statues of the Buddha. We stay until our legs start to cramp from sitting, then explore the rest of the temple grounds, wandering over stone bridges and around the little wooden cells where the monks live.  

For lunch, we doff our shoes and sit on the floor for a traditional-style Korean meal of chicken ginseng soup, which comes in stone bowls so hot I burn my fingers. Then my aunt and uncle suggest a Seoul delicacy. In a nearby coffee shop, we feast on a belgian waffle, topped with two kinds of ice cream (one flavor is green tea), fruit, whipped cream and caramel sauce.  In classic South Korean style, cultures come together to create something wonderful.  

To walk off this feast before dinner, we go next to Namdaemun, a huge maze of streets full of shops and street vendors.  The place is teeming with activity: a young woman stands outside a cosmetics shop, hands full of samples, calling to the crowd through a microphone as we move by, silk worms steam at a street vendor’s tiny stand, and we haggle over prices of sunglasses, shoes and keychains.  Here, you can find anything you can think of, plus many things that never would have occurred to you.  (Fur scarves with fringe of little animal heads and Hello Kitty wallets come to mind.)   

On Monday, lunch is the real standout--we head to the business district of Seoul to a restaurant called Cham Sook Gol.  Our aunt orders for us: “hot bibimbap”, an incredibly hot stone bowl of rice and vegetables which comes with a plate of shredded meat and a raw egg on the side.  We dump the egg and meat into the rice and vegetables, and the hot stone of the bowl cooks everything into a delicious mess.  Dishes of broth and three different types of kimchi (a spicy Korean sauerkraut) accompany the meal, washed down with cold corn silk tea, a unique and very Korean drink.  (I discover this is an acquired taste, and opt for Coke.)  

Dinner completes the day’s Korean food extravaganza. This is a feast of Korean barbecue at The Maple Tree House restaurant chain.  Big, stone bowls full of hot coals are placed in the middle of our tables, with vents lowered above them to keep the air clear.  We order beef and pork, which arrive sliced, marinated and raw; the real fun comes in cooking the meat right at our tables over the coals.  Literally hot off the grill, the meat gets wrapped in seasoned leaves with kimchi and salt, an exquisite taste.  

Tuesday morning, we head to Deoksu Palace.  The architecture here is a unique blend of traditional Korean and 20th century English structures, the only of its kind that you will see in Seoul.  But the real attraction at Deoksu is the reenactment of the ‘Changing of the Guard’ ceremony, presented at various times throughout the day outside the palace walls.  Fully costumed performers march into the square, ranks of brightly dressed musicians with traditional instruments behind flag-bearers.  Though the narration doesn’t come in English, the spectacle is entertaining to watch even without knowing exactly what’s going on.  Cameras flash, people cheer, and two Japanese tourists dress in hanboks and participate.   

Our last day in Seoul, we head to the Korean War Museum.  Inside are detailed displays on everything from warfare of the Joseon dynasty to the Korean War of the 1950’s. We’re accompanied today by one of my uncle’s Korean friends in his seventies, who makes the displays of the Korean War come alive with his own memories as a refugee. His brother still lives in North Korea.  He looks at a black and white photo of President Truman for a long time before telling us how he wishes there was just one, unified Korea.  Outside, we make our way slowly through the walkways lined with commemorative plaques holding the name of every person who gave their lives during the Korean War.  

Before we rush to the airport, we have time to take in one more sight of Seoul.  We take an electric bus up the mountain to Namsan Tower and the surrounding park.  Topping out at 479.7 meters above sea level, we pay admission to the needle-like tower and ride the fast elevator to the round observatory.  We are so high up that when I lean my forehead against the glass window to look straight down, I immediately experience vertigo. The views are simply stunning. Seoul spreads around mountains in clusters of tall apartment buildings and skyscrapers. We spot landmarks and places we’ve been visiting all week.

Standing here with Seoul stretched out all around me, all I can do is hope that somehow, I can find a way to come back.  With all of this magnificent beauty, wonderful food and rich culture, my week in Seoul, South Korea has been the adventure of a lifetime.