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Hooligans
Leaving the compound For one thing, it is an adventure in and of itself to travel with 12 co-workers, co-inhabiters for a weekend long single room stay. OK, in all fairness, the first night we had two rooms....one housing our Korean administrator, her friend, and 3 female foreign teachers. The other, the rest of us. You learn in a hurry who snores...and if you are reading this, you know who you are. Let's admit it, everyone in Gyeongju knows who you are.
But it was all part of the fun, watching the drama unfold as 13 people that already get quite enough of one another, attempting a weekend of fun and togetherness. No fists were thrown, no pillows anhiliated, no hearts broken. There was a little tension, but all things considered, the weekend went off without a hitch.
Aside from the sociological phenomenon that played out, the city of Gyeongju turned out to be the star attraction. Set in the hills of the Southern end of the country, almost edging the ocean and almost totally guarded in wilderness (as "wild" as the wilderness of such a Metropolitan country will allow), Gyeongju holds up its reputation as an ancient treasure among the larger
The bus
Shoving ourselves, and our stuff, in centers of Korea. It is swimming with ancient culture. Even as our train approached the city you could spot the brilliance of the sun reflecting off golden Buddhist shrines high on the mountain trails, welcoming travellers to their hermitage away from concrete and car horns.
Friday was a long day. Up at dawn (luckily this is something I have become familiar with, although a fresh head cold and ear infection hindered my enthusiasm) and out in one big, comical group of foreign hooligans. We were a sight, I'm sure, to all of the early morning commuters making their way to their habitual, workaday life. 13 white people lugging backpacks (and one wheeling a suitcase) down buss street, all cramming onto a bus, all with sleep in our eyes, all giddy with the knowledge of freedom, if only for 3 days.
But once we arrived in Gyeongju, and got our stuff together (a bus, a driver, a translator, and a whole lotta luggage), we were in an ESL miasma of wonder...temple here, temple there, everywhere a "sa" "sa". Of particular interest to myself was the Seokgulam Grotto. I climbed the steps of the hillside, alongside hundreds and hundreds of
Bulguksa Temple
Covered in festive flare locals escaping their lives for Buddha's infamous birthday celebrations, with Kelly, who had been here before. I was able to feed off of her anticipation- she knew what was ahead, and amid lanterns and bathed in a soft breeze, I was more than eager to see what lay ahead. As it turns out, the grotto (a "cave" within the hillside set as a buddhist hermitage and housing a giant stone buddha), which is normally open only partially to visiters, was completely accessible in honor of the special day. The one day a year you are able to walk into the grotto, amid the carvings in the walls, and one the ancient, cold stone tiles, we ere there, and we were able to walk around the looming Buddha figure. The shadows dramatically twisting as we walked slowly around...the people ahead stopping to prostrate, or pay their respect in simple, silent, meditative awe. .......speechless..........as am I.
Bulguksa temple was also incredible, though it was easy to see that all the glamour of the celebrations (the over-abundance of lanterns, the music, the ceremonies) overshadowed the quiet beauty the temple must have without the hoopla. Needless to say, however, it was an experience.
Three story stone pagodas
Featured on Korean coins...very unique to the country Saturday, hoever, was what some may term a "down day". I did not have it in me to do a single thing. I was on vacation. Even less than that, I needed a weekend. It was a long week, I was sick as a dog, I was tired of thinking and yelling,.....and thinking. I couldn't handle sight seeing. Luckily, I had company. We played pool..drank beer...shopped a little...pressure free. No guilt, no worries. Just relaxation. It was wonderful.
But by the time Sunday rolled around I was ready again to soak in the individuality of the place we were in. Serendipitously, as we searched the train station for a place to store our bags for the day, we came upon our tour guide and his bus from the Friday before. He gladly took us on again, transporting us, once again, into the beauty of the hills. We went to Golgulsa hermitage, to climb the cliff faces and take photos of the buddhas in the rock. I felt completely, overwhelming, free. I went on a little hike into the trees after taking in all the spiritual energy I could (even doing my own silent prostration, with the onlooking positive
Green
I don't know if I was blinking...but apparently it is Spring now. Lush green grew out of nowhere support of monks and nuns around me), and suddenly realized that, for the first time in months, I was "in nature". It was me and the trees- no cars rushing beyond the branches, no smog clogging the clean air. Just trees, and humidity, and me.
I was tired when we got back, but I was happy. And I was ready to have me "comeback". I have been in a lull lately, and did not really notice how bad it was until I experienced the other side. After the weekend I realized that I need to refocus...on myself, on the things that matter, on why I came here. I am here to grow. I am here to make myself happy. And feeling tired, sick, stressed and drained isn't cutting it. I have to take on that responsibility for myself. We creat our own realities, and although it may take a hermitage into the "wilderness" to bring us the realization, it is up to us to keep that reality with us, even among the concrete.
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swampzoid
non-member comment
colorful
groovy photos. very colorful place and the group looks to be having a blast.