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Published: April 23rd 2006
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LIGHTS
The moment the lotus is lit The Lotus Lantern Festival is a highly anticipated even every year in Seoul. A buddhist festical, and to commemorate Buddhas birthday, a festival is held surrounding the image of the Lotus Flower. Lotus lanterns are made and lit, an elaborate and illuminated parade prominades down the street of Jogno, near Insadong (a traditional market area of Seoul,lloaded with handicrafts and tea houses, popular with tourists). During the day on the Sunday (this year, April 30th) many buddhist activities are available, including making your own Lotus Lantern, and partaking in the local buddhist cuisine. The parade procedes to Jogyesa temple, a large Buddhist temple in the center of Seoul.
Before all the hoopla begins (the festivities that foreigners are apt to take in), there is a lighting ceremony in front of City Hall. This ceremony takes place over a week before the Lantern festival weekend occurs, and, as I read about it on the Tour2Korea website, I was intrigued. In Okotoks (my hometown) there is a "Light Up" night a few weeks before Christmas where the tree at the end of mainstreet is lit in ceremonial fashion and activities such as sleigh rides and carolling continue throughout the evening. I figured
The lotus
Soon to be lit this ceremony sounded comparable, maybe it'll be fun? Why not, it is a short day.
Jen planned to meet me at City Hall (well, the palace across the street) at 7 pm. The assumption was that the lighting would occur at sundown, and that would give us a good half hour before to get comfortable and find out what was going on. I ended up showing up at City Hall at 5 pm, tired of wandering around Dongdaemun market and spending way too much money on sheap clothes and other various parephernalia I didn't need. A choir was setting itself up under a tarp, all women dressed in traditional Korean dress. I sat on a flower pot off to the side, behind the crowd that was already begininng to gather with their homemade laterns (I WANTED one so bad), and tried to look inconspicuous as everything began. The choir starting into what sounded exactly like a Christian psalm translated into Korean, and made me question if I was at the right Buddhist lighting ceremony. Maybe this was the Christian one, and the buddhist one was further down the street?
The sound was haunting. I sat hypnotized as business
City Hall
and tulips men and women walked purposefully through the square, oblivious to the sounds around them. I sat until the wind was too cold for me to sit still any longer. I still had an hour before I was to meet Jen across the street, but I had to move. I decided to walk around the corner and maybe into the uinderground tunnels. Maybe I still had some shopping left in my system while I waiting for her subway to arrive.
As I turned the corner I could hear a high pitched eerie flute sound along with the clashing of small symbols and drums. Sure enough, around the corner, was a procession making its way to City Hall square. The parade stopped in the middle of the walkway, to the irritation of business people trying to make their train, and danced and played. At the front of the parade was a band of 15 or so musicians, banging and clashing and blowing and dancing. The "pom pom" on top of their hats swinging around their heads, almost comically, beautifully, around and around. Then they steadied the rhythm and carried on towards me. I stop motionless as the top of the subway,
watching, catching the stares I was getting from passerbys. Why is she so interested in this? This is a buddhist thing.
As the parade continued by women dressed in bright elaborate dresses walked past with daughters in the same, all of them smiling at me, most of them waving and bowing. I watched to see if they did this to the other onlookers, but they didn't. Thier enthusiastic smiles were reserved for me, the white girl watching voyeuristically from the sidelines. It was magical and beautiful, and I wanted very much to be a part of it.
I went across the street and paced, hoping Jen would arrive soon, hoping to get back to the action. When she arrived I told her what I had seen, and she was disappointed she had not arrived sooner. That's the problem with not having a car...damn bus system.
We worked our way into the crowd, not knowing where we did and did not belong, trying to take respectful pictures (until we noticed that everyone was frantically clicking away). A long row of monks stood at the front of the corwd, facing the field where the large lotus flower stood waiting
At City Hall looking up
The sky was a little menacing that day to be lit. Prayers were chanted, lanterns were lit. Then each monk walked up to a long table and took his place, gloves on, waiting for his signal. They each reached forward to press his assigned button, and...BANG!!!! Fireworks and cheering and happiness exploded into the air. The lantern was lit. Excitement was all around. It was wonderful.
Then the madness began. Somehow in the blinding flash of the lights Jen and I had not noticed that we had become the spectical. As it turned out, virtually no other tourists were present at this ceremony. It was the buddhists and us, the white people. Flashes were going off wildly around us, people were asking questions in broken English, people were smiling, staring, gawking, picutre after picture. Look here, look there, smile, hold up your lantern.....it was mayheim. Then the procession began again, people began moving and the flashes receded. Jen adn I looked at eachother and laughed. So much for being inconspicuous.
A Korean woman, young and hip and fresh, approached us and asked why we were there. Startled by the question I paused...."I don't know. I am fascinated by buddhism" I say awkwardly. "Well.." she hands us
a card, "this is my number. If you would like to come to our temple I would be happy to bring you along. It is here in Seoul and it is very nice. You are more than welcome." An honour. We are welcome. As the people around us begin to chant and move together, she motions for us to get into the line and follow it. I hold my lantern carefully, delicately, and walk with the crowd. I try to hum their tune, to feel their energy. This is life for them, routine, celebrations and chants and prayers and lanters. This is what is familiar. We walk the distance around the square while local television stations film the procession. Jen and I can feel the heat of the camera lights as the pause on us and follow us around the square. I don't care. Let them gawk. If I can be voyeuristic about their reality, why shouldn't they be able to about mine. Even if I was probably on every news channel that night without knowing it.
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