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During a friend’s wedding, I met a friend of a friend, a cute and charming guy who, at a later date, asked me what I wanted to see in Korea. I replied Jeju-do, Jeollanam-do, and Suwon Village. Since the first two are at opposite ends of the peninsula, he asked me on a date to Suwon Village. I confess that because of the mixed elation and nerves for my date, my view of Suwon Village may be biased. He (I’ll refer to him as GY) picked me up early Saturday morning and we headed East.

On my own, I doubt I would have ever made it out to Suwon because my weekends fill up quickly trying to have fun with friends before I leave in September. Fortunately, good timing intervened and I found myself inside a giant village shaded by a lush green forest. It was unexpectedly tranquil. Suwon Folk Village (aka 민속촌 Minsokchon) easily became one of my favorite places in Korea. It reminded me of Washington State’s lush and humid greenery, which I love.

The word “village” brings to mind tiny huts, tools, some interesting facts, but Suwon Folk Village surpassed my limited imagination. There were various straw and tiled huts, official buildings, inventions, massive vegetation, live animals, a gorgeous river, and people dressed as historical residents. I believe it’s called a “living museum,” which creepily sounds like a wax museum, but this was much more interesting.

My grandparents grew up in the Korean countryside before moving to Seoul, so it was interesting to see how their lifestyles may have been during the early 1900s. As a cock crowed, we set about to hit the major spots in the village.

Symbols of Korean Culture

We began with the handcrafted pottery (on the right day/time, you can join in and make your own ceramics) and looked inside a hut containing gigantic barrels of kimchi. These giant barrels (coming up past my waist) are buried 2/3 of their length in the ground and covered with hay. They ferment in the ground and then, voila(!), you have Korea’s most renown food: kimchi!

Either you love it or you hate it, and if you stay in Korea long enough, you’re force-fed until you finally fall in love or despise it forever. If you're curious about Kimchi, I like this blog entry (though it's related to the writer's trip in Hawaii, the information on Kimchi is very thorough and includes a recipe I haven't tried).

A common occurrence that foreigners experience is being pressured into eating food they have never tried or don’t like. This can come across very rude or uncomfortable to many foreigners, but is actually a very caring and giving gesture in Korean culture. Try not to take offense if this happens to you. Most native teachers I know have grown to love Korean food, and if you don’t, that’s fine~ ^^

We walked from the traditional homes to the governor’s office, the landlord’s residence to the fortune teller’s abode. I was surprised to see ondols dating so far back! Based on some research I did on Wiki, it extends back to 1000 BC. That’s so crazy!

An ondol is an impressive Korean invention where massive stones are placed beneath homes. A controlled fire begins the process by wafting under the house, trapping the heat within the stones and allowing the remnant toxic fumes out the other side. People remained warm during the wintertime due to this simple invention. This system (though innovated with water heaters, is still in most Korean households today. GY explained that some Eastern European companies are interested in importing the technology because it saves energy and is so organic.

I remember when I visited my grandparents in Korea, I loved turning on the ondol. We didn’t sleep on Western-style beds; instead, we slept on individual floor mattresses (yo). The ondol would heat the floor and mattress, so you never worried about cold feet in the wintertime. Since I was young and irresponsible, I sometimes forgot to turn off the ondol; this lead to the same reaction as walking barefoot on burning sand. I remember getting yelled at because my elders wouldn’t step into the room until it cooled down.

Back to Suwon Folk Village. GY and I took a break in one of the many pagodas next to the still river and chatted away. We were both running on little sleep because of our busy weekdays, so we took a quick power nap in a public pagoda. We posed in traditional clothes for fun, and I turned giddy when a pungmul (old folk dance involving various drums) performance began. The beautiful show was followed by horsemen displaying historical archery, use of spears, acrobatics, and hilarious antics to get the audience to laugh. Our hands tired of applauding as they displayed feat after feat. It was one of the highlights for me because I never tire of watching traditional Korean performances (when I spoke of the event to another Korean-American friend, he shared his opinion that the shows are kind of cheesy. I say this just to share an alternate opinion of the spectacle).

Barefoot Trail

Next, we drifted off onto a secluded trail where people soaked their feet in a shallow fountain of water. It was about 5ft/1.5m and shallow enough to dip your feet up to your ankles, and a water pump kept the water running downstream. We joined an old couple, taking off our sandals, and oh my god the water was freezing(!) and refreshing contrasted to the humidity. GY read a sign and said there was a dirt path made for walking barefoot. I’m always down for getting dirty with nature, so I picked up my sandals and we walked up the path. The trees provided shade and the ground was cool. We could see the tiled roofs through the trees. Besides a couple that had preceded us, the trail was completely ours.

When we reached the end, we ran into the other couple. The girl complained about something I couldn’t grasp and they retraced their steps back down. GY explained that the fountain on this end was broken. The pump was still and the remnant water was brown and leafy. My stomach grumbled my decision, and I suggested we move forward. We could always wash our feet later. GY happily obliged and noted that my actions were different from most Korean girls. As someone who grew up next to the Rocky Mountains and tried surfing off the California coast, I’m not picky about having sand or dirt between my toes. If anything, I love the rugged nature of it.

Rest

We looked at a few more spots as the sweat trickled down our necks and finally headed for the bazaar. There were various stalls of delicious organic food! We purchased meal tickets. I got Mul Naengmyun (literal translation: water cold noodles) and GY ordered some kind of Sujaebi (a flour pasta in a refreshing spicy soup). We clanked small bowls full of Dongdong Ju, a rice liquor similar to the more famous Makeolli, and cooled down on a shaded bench.

The time passed fast and after strolling through the nice air-conditioned museum, we lay down on our second pagoda of the day. GY came prepared with a picnic tarp and we took a nap next to the water. Many people would pull out picnic tarps and just take naps throughout the village. I felt like we lived there, it was so relaxing. When GY told me to wake-up, I reluctantly got to my feet. It was the first time where being tired and sleeping on a date wasn’t taken as an insult.

The ride back to Seoul was so congested I couldn’t hold my eyes open. I felt bad for GY having to drive through the jam-packed highway and I was grateful he got us back in one piece. Korean drivers scare the hell out of me.

Shinchon (Old & New)

We dropped off the car and taxied over to Shinchon where I was having a small reunion with old friends. Shinchon is a college town next to Yonsei University and it has changed a lot in the past ten years. It took me a while to recognize the streets. We grabbed delicious tender galbi at a restaurant owned by a flamboyant couple. And, for old times sake, stayed up all night bar-hopping and singing at nohraebang (“song room”). Three girls and three guys from Korea, Germany, and the States recreated nostalgic memories into new ones with new friends. We wished the rest of our friends from back-in-the-day could have joined us.

I don’t remember the last time I stayed up until the sky turned blue. In my late teens and early twenties, we stayed up because the subway and buses stopped around midnight-1am and we would stay out till they reopened. When the blue skies emerged, we stumbled back home and grabbed street food from the poh jang ma cha (street vender’s cart), whooping at the liberated feeling of doing what we wanted.

Altogether a memorable day.

I write this in my school office.

Summer camp with the kids finished last week, and I just have to come in every day with no particular work on my plate. The windows and doors are open. The outside air breezes through because the school tries to save money by not using the AC (a form of torture and probably a health hazard when teaching, but not so bad when all I have to do is sit). My co-teacher snuck into the English classroom next to our office and is passed out sleeping (going 4 and 1/2 hours, now).

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