Gyeongbokgung (Palace), King Sejong, and Korea's Independence

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Two of my friends recently moved to Korea from Germany and Australia, which meant it was the perfect time to play tourist. I had taught in Korea for the past 9 months, had visited Korea frequently growing up, yet I had not visited most of the popular tourist sites during all that available time. Gyeongbokgung (Gyeongbok Palace) is often listed as the #1 place to visit in Seoul if you have little time to spare. We decided to check for ourselves.

I met up with my recently acquainted friend, Ozy Brett, at Subway Line 3, Gyeongbokgung, Exit #5. Actually, that's a lie. I got off on the wrong subway exit and had to taxi my way over to the correct area.

Taxi-speak:
Ahnnyeong ha sae yo. Hello.
Gyeongbokgung ooh roh daeryuh ju sae yo. -> Please take me to Gyeongbokgung.

Or, you can say:

Gyeongbokgung (Gyeongbok Palace) jihacheul (subway station) oh-bun (#5) chul-ga (exit) ooh roh (to) daeryuh ju sae yo (take me please). -> Please take me to the #5 exit at Gyeongbokgung Subway Station.

We met at the station and walked over to the palace. It was so much bigger than I had anticipated! When it comes to palaces this is a good thing.

Though it was a Saturday, there weren't a lot of tourists. Perhaps because the sky was overcast, people had decided to stay home. I was happy because it felt like we had the palace all to ourselves. I'm grateful Brett is also an avid photographer because I went camera crazy. With the overcast sky, small amount of people in a large amount of space, and occasional driblets of rain, the palace felt less like a tourist destination and more like a glance into history. At one point, I watched a man walking down one of the old "streets/alleys(?)" and imagined someone in the past wearing traditional clothes taking that same walk.

The guards and changing of the guards were interesting to see and hear. They stood as still as mannequins or marched with the beating drums and blow of the conche, but those elements felt more touristy than the palace itself. Brett and I wondered if they were paid actors or serving some sort of punishment or grunge work for the military.

There were three things that stood out during this visit.

(1) We heard some beautiful music that sounded like the gayahgeum instrument: a flat string instrument that sits on the ground and gives the popular vibrating twang that is associated with Asian instrumentals. It is, for the most part, played by women, though I have seen a white male foreigner on TV playing "Hey Jude" with great skill (he also spoke Korean very well). Following the beautiful notes, we found ourselves at the restrooms. Nice stereo system, I guess?

(2) Toward the end of our stroll past the museum, there were buildings (reconstructed?) from the 60s-80s covered with worn posters advertising classic James Bond flicks and The Sound of Music. Inside of one building was an old comic book store with badly drawn cartoons (from a Pixar perspective) reminiscent of Astro Boy or Speed Racer. Each building housed something from the past. It was interesting to see the merging of Western/Eastern media so soon after the Korean War. Because Korea has advanced so quickly in a short period of time, it's fascinating to see both history and modernity blend, blurring the black and white lines of time.

(3) The magnitude. Though the palace looked big upon entrance, I didn't get a real feel for it's extensive reach until we walked every corner. With the lack of tourists, it was easy to daze out and visualize how people once lived here; little children running loose; women in hamboks preparing some delicious stew; guards keeping diligent watch; etc.

King Sejong's Legacy

We exited the palace toward King Sejong's Memorial to meet up with Jenny. King Sejong, also known as "The Great Sejong," is the famous leader who created hangeul the Korean alphabet. Prior to hangeul, only the upper-class was literate in the difficult Chinese language and the Korean variation.

With the goal of educating all classes, the new and easy-to-learn alphabet was introduced. Even today, one can learn to read and write Korean within a week. That's about how long it took me as a child, too. Spelling and pronunciation takes more effort. I like this link that tells the true modern story about an Indonesian tribe that has adopted the Korean language to inscribe their own words. Fascinating stuff and interesting perspective.

What I love the most about Sejong's story besides the long-lasting effect he's had on Korean society is the story of his ascension I found on Wikipedia. Both the eldest sons believed that Sejong should be the rightful ruler; therefore, they acted unruly to the point of being banished. One became a vagabond, the other a monk, and Sejong became king. It sounds like a myth, but it could be true for all I know. We didn't go into the exhibition hall, which gives more insight into King Sejong's numerous inventions and contributions.

Instead, we took more photos next to the pretty fountain where kids ran barefoot and also snagged a shot of the random Korean SWAT truck across the street. We meandered around and grabbed some Phở at a Korean-owned restaurant.

Samil Movement

Jenny had missed out on the morning's activities, and we were all ready to squeeze as much touristy stuff into a day as we could handle. So, we headed towards the Samil (three one) Monument in Tapgol Park, which is dedicated to the March 1st Movement where the first sparks of massive Korean activism against the Japanese Occupation began. I have another entry if the subject interests you: The Japanese Occupation and the Korean War. Without any intent, my other entry stirred some strong responses, so I'm posting a disclaimer: I'm not qualified to speak eruditely on the subject of the Japanese Occupation or Korean War. Anything I say is from personal stories that have been passed on to me from relatives, others in my life, personal research, as well as visiting historical monuments. I'm more interested in stories than taking sides. I don't intend to offend anyone and am open to any responses.

*whew* Okay, now that I got that off my shoulders. We walked into the small park not knowing what to expect. The statues and murals were beautifully sculpted. On March 1st, 1919, a small group of protesters proclaimed the Korean Independence. The passionate protest rapidly spread throughout the country to include 2,000,000 Koreans.

Of the many people who declared independence and cried for justice, approximately 7,000 were killed by Japanese soldiers. The martyrs brought about significant changes for Koreans as well as shifts in women's rights. Still, this was only the beginning in the fight for independence.

It was fascinating to see the murals. Like Seodaemun Prison, there was some surprising brutality depicted in the artwork (though not as extreme as the prison), and I'm beginning to wonder if I'm just another prude American, or if people from other countries would be equally surprised to see such details.

Baduk

After strolling around the park, we tried to squeeze in Changdeokgung Palace which is a short walk from Tapgol park. Referring to my friend's Lonely Planet guide, we decided to cut through another park.

We were surprised to see a massive gathering of ahjushis (older men, not quite grandfathers) in the park. They were all huddled around boards playing baduk, more commonly known in the Western world as "go." We felt like we had walked into a park tournament. However, the atmosphere was a bit sketchy. It is rare to see homeless people in Korea (compared to the US where it's much much much more prevalent). Begging for money does not lead to as much profit as the West, so when you do see homeless people, they really are homeless, and the common reaction is to turn a blind-eye because it is viewed as very shameful. There were quite a few homeless men sleeping around the park. My friend, Jenny, wondered how many of the men were homeless and how many were working ahjushis.

There were no women (or foreigners, for that matter), so we drew some attention and little welcome. So, we took in what we could as we walked on. At the other end of the park, I ran into two policemen and asked them about the gathering.

Me: "Is this something that is only happening today, or does this happen every week?"
Them: (glaring at the baduk players) "It's always like this. They have nothing better to do with their lives, so they throw away their time here." The policemen's disapproval was so strong, you could hear the sneer.

By the time we reached the palace, we couldn't get it because they were closing soon. Instead, we headed to Namsan Tower (Love 'Locks: Namsan Tower aka N Seoul Tower).

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Photos

Miniature Statues on Roofs
I'm not sure this story is accurate, but this is what a Korean ahjushi at one of the palaces told me. You will often see these statues on top of historical Korean buildings. They represent the travels made by Confucius and the demons that tried to block his way. Each statue represents a different demon. As Confucius passed, he overcame and essentially converted each demon. They are metaphors for life and life's obstacles. An alternate story I've read is that they represent some of the animals of the zodiac, but I prefer the former explanation.