Sunday, December 1, 2013
Waygooks Take Flight!
I think I've wanted to jump out of a plane for the last ten years of my life. It almost happened a few years ago, but after what I'll call a case of Divine Intervention, I yielded to the universe's plea to not go through with it. At least not until the time is right. I still haven't given up on that goal.
This past weekend, however, I finally got to experience the thrill of flight through different means: paragliding. Now before I came to Korea, I didn't know anything about the world of paragliding. I'd never seen anybody paraglide and I'd never heard of people talk about it, so it was a completely foreign concept to me. I mean, as a kid, I always remember seeing shows and movies where characters jumped out of a plane--who can forget the classic Full House episode where Uncle Jesse gets stuck in a tree and almost misses his own wedding?--but you never saw anybody go paragliding.
Hoping to check skydiving off my bucket list while in Korea, I kept coming up empty. However, in the process, I did stumble upon the exciting world of paragliding, and I knew I had to do it, winter weather be damned.
And so it was, that Saturday morning, I woke up and thought to myself, "Today is a good day to jump off a mountain"--and it was! The weather was nice and cool and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky.
I got to Lotte Hotel at 9:30 to meet my jumping compatriots, Megan and Kelleen, and our tandem superstar, Mr. Lee. We got in his van and drove off to pick up another fellow, who we initially thought was Mr. Lee's business partner, but turned out to just be a friend and fellow paragliding enthusiast.
During the hour and a half drive to and from the jumping site, we got to know a bit about Mr. Lee while he pointed out points of interest, such as a cable car running up a mountain or a field of honey apple trees. Mr. Lee sported a full head of grey hair under a grey St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap. At 64 years of age, you can tell that 20 years of paragliding have helped keep him young at heart; he had a child-like and contagious grin that he flashed at every opportunity.
He was also very polite and courteous, asking if it was okay if he smoked in the van with the window down, and inquiring as to whether or not we'd eaten breakfast yet. He was even kind enough to ask the girls if they were interested in marrying his 34 year-old and very rich son. "All he cares about is money," he kept on saying with a laugh. How the girls passed on such an offer I'll never know.
We eventually arrived at the landing spot, which was just a small dirt road that went under an overpass. He and the other fellow in the back got out, left us alone in the van, and they started talking to a group of men that were already there waiting when we arrived. The girls and I found it slightly sketchy. Was this all a set up? Were they waiting here to get the drop on us? I mean if I wanted to rob some foreigners and make them disappear, this looked like as good of a place as any. Childhood stories tell us that nothing good ever comes from being under a bridge or overpass.
Thankfully, we were just being paranoid, and the whole gang hopped in the van.
A couple times during the ride, Mr. Lee asked myself and Kelleen if we had a driving licence and if we could drive. We both answers affirmatively, and I figured he was just joking when he said that I was going to drive later on. After all, like I said, Mr. Lee was a laugh riot, so I thought he was just kidding around. However, as we left the landing spot and started making our way towards the mountain, he made a point to map out the directions for me. "Take a left, and then turn left again at the lights," he said. So apparently I was in fact going to drive, though I still didn't understand why.
It turned out that my job was to pick up Mr. Lee and Megan or Kelleen after they jumped so he could drive us back to the top and we could do it all over again. The other guy in the van had nothing to do with our little adventure.
The road up the mountain was steep and winding, with some sharp F1-type turns. The thought of having to drive a bulky van down this treacherous road made me nervous. I just prayed Mr. Lee regularly checked the brakes.
When we got to the top of the mountain and we looked out at the view, that's when shit got real. We unloaded the equipment and made our way to the jump spot. To my surprise, there was a large group of people waiting for their turn to jump. It reminded me of airplanes waiting for their turn to take off from the runway. Watching the first guy take off was so surreal; it was like something out of Super Mario World.
For those who have never seen paragliding before, two or three people stand ten feet or so behind you, holding your canopy. The jumper starts out facing the canopy while holding onto the suspension lines that connect to the canopy, as if holding on to an assortment of balloons, and starts running backwards. Once the canopy inflates, the jumper lets go of the lines, turns around, and starts running for dear life until the end of the runway. Then it's essentially sink or swim.
The takeoff was definitely the scariest part for exactly that reason. First of all, when you're running, you can't look back, so you don't know if your canopy is inflating properly. If you hear people screaming behind you, that's pretty much your only signal to stop running. It happened a couple times right before I was supposed to go, and it made me somewhat weary. You're at the wind's mercy at that point.
Mr. Lee called the group over and held out what looked like an extendable police baton with really good reach, except there was a small go pro camera attached at the end. I figured he wanted to take a group photo in case this was the last time we'd all be seen together and alive.
Even after watching a few takeoffs, though,I still couldn't figure out how the tandem paragliding setup worked. I was chosen as the lucky one to go first in the group, so Mr. Lee suited me up in a NASCAR-looking outfit, knee pads and a helmet, which were totally going to save my life when I plummeted to my death, and a giant backpack that made it look like I either had grown a turtle shell or the saggiest ass in the world. How this was going to keep me from falling prey to the cold, evil claws of gravity, I had no idea.
I stood in front of Mr. Lee and got clipped on to him, my life resting in his hands, and was instructed to run when given the signal. The canopy pulls you in the opposite direction, but you have to keep pumping those legs until you run out of runway.
I honestly don't remember what was going through my mind as I stood waiting for the signal. My emotions fell somewhere between excited and nervous, but fear had definitely left the picture as soon as I was strapped on to Mr. Lee. Somehow, I just knew everything would work out fine.
You know how as a kid, you're always told to look away from the needle when you're getting an injection? I think not being able to see the canopy and whether or not it was inflating properly behind me just put it out of my thoughts. The only thing running through my mind was the word "run" in big bold letters, and that's exactly what I did until I couldn't feel the ground beneath me anymore. With my feet dangling beneath me, Mr. Lee instructed me to sit back. The turtle shell backpack that I was wearing was essentially a car seat. I sat back while Mr. Lee danced and flirted with the winds and I enjoyed the view.
In that initial moment of flight, I was surprised to find that rather than experiencing an adrenaline rush, I was overcome by an unparalleled level of tranquility and serenity that made me laugh uncontrollably. Life was perfect. Directly below me was the very road we had taken to get to the mountain's peak. I admired its beautiful curves and the trees that stood guard along its sides. Being weightless and watching the cars travel to and fro, I felt like I was frozen, pinned to the sky with an invisible thumbtack, stuck in a moment in time while the rest of the world continued spinning. And then there were the mountains. God, I love those mountains. I will sorely miss them when I go home.
I was holding on to the go pro camera-on-a-stick the entire time, but I was so deeply entranced by the view that I forgot all about it. Eventually, Mr. Lee grabbed it from me and started moving it around to show me what I was supposed to do before handing it back. You can see this in the video below. The problem is, after that, I became concerned with not dropping the damn thing--even though I knew full well that it was clipped to my side. With my luck, something would go wrong and Mr. Lee would be out of a camera.
Our flight lasted a good ten minutes. Towards the end, as we turned to line up with the dirt road-turned-runway, we flew right over the highway, and I couldn't help but wonder what the people in those cars were thinking.
As came in for our landing, Mr. Lee tried telling me that I was to lift my legs when we hit the ground. I didn't understand why, but I did as I was told, and I successfully landed on my ass and very much alive.
Huzzah!
I thanked Mr. Lee profusely, not just for the successful flight, but for giving me the opportunity of a lifetime.
Megan, Kelleen, and our Korean friend were waiting for us at the bottom with the van. I didn't give the girls any of the details, preferring to make it a surprise.
Mr. Lee and his compatriot were hungry, so we grabbed lunch at a Korean restaurant nearby before making our way back up the mountain.
Kelleen was next. While she waited for her turn, we saw the unthinkable happen. A man took off, and everything seemed to go fine for about five seconds, and then his canopy went flat and he disappeared out of sight. I have no idea how far he fell, but some girls went looking for him over the edge, and we didn't see any of them for the rest of the day. I like to think that they helped the guy up and they walked back up to the top of the mountain along some dirt road. That's totally what happened. I think.
To our surprise, the next person in line took off without missing a beat. Nobody seemed particularly concerned for this fellow. The show must go on, after all.
Kudos to Kelleen--this didn't seem to shake her at all despite the fact that she was one person away from taking to the skies.
After Kelleen successfully took flight, Megan and I caught another frightful sight. This time, the person was much higher in the sky when their canopy got tangled on one end and they started free-falling for a good couple seconds before it somehow became untangled and he leveled out. You could hear everybody hold their collective breaths in that moment. Of course this only increased poor Megan's fears.
I'm happy to say that I successfully maneuvered that beastly van down the mountain's zigzagging roller coaster roads and we picked up our two little gachis.
By the time we got back to the top, it was round 2:00 in the afternoon, and there were at least 14 paragliders drifting in the air like mystical birds. It was quite the sight to behold.
Megan had some sweaty palm action going on from nervousness, but to her credit, she didn't back down, and of the three of us, she looks the most ecstatic and gleeful in her airborne pictures.
Having survived our adventure, we agreed a celebratory pizza was in order, and so once Mr. Lee dropped us off back in new downtown, we made our way to my favourite restaurant in all of Ulsan: Bella de Notte. I can't think of a better meal to celebrate being alive than my very own Italian Margarita pizza, topped off with a nice cold Moretti beer.
And if that weren't enough, the day was capped off with a visit to a DVD room and a screening of Quentin Tarantino's Django Unchained. It was quite possibly the best day I've had in Ulsan to date.
This past weekend, however, I finally got to experience the thrill of flight through different means: paragliding. Now before I came to Korea, I didn't know anything about the world of paragliding. I'd never seen anybody paraglide and I'd never heard of people talk about it, so it was a completely foreign concept to me. I mean, as a kid, I always remember seeing shows and movies where characters jumped out of a plane--who can forget the classic Full House episode where Uncle Jesse gets stuck in a tree and almost misses his own wedding?--but you never saw anybody go paragliding.
Hoping to check skydiving off my bucket list while in Korea, I kept coming up empty. However, in the process, I did stumble upon the exciting world of paragliding, and I knew I had to do it, winter weather be damned.
And so it was, that Saturday morning, I woke up and thought to myself, "Today is a good day to jump off a mountain"--and it was! The weather was nice and cool and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky.
I got to Lotte Hotel at 9:30 to meet my jumping compatriots, Megan and Kelleen, and our tandem superstar, Mr. Lee. We got in his van and drove off to pick up another fellow, who we initially thought was Mr. Lee's business partner, but turned out to just be a friend and fellow paragliding enthusiast.
During the hour and a half drive to and from the jumping site, we got to know a bit about Mr. Lee while he pointed out points of interest, such as a cable car running up a mountain or a field of honey apple trees. Mr. Lee sported a full head of grey hair under a grey St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap. At 64 years of age, you can tell that 20 years of paragliding have helped keep him young at heart; he had a child-like and contagious grin that he flashed at every opportunity.
 |
| A friendlier chap you won't find around here. |
We eventually arrived at the landing spot, which was just a small dirt road that went under an overpass. He and the other fellow in the back got out, left us alone in the van, and they started talking to a group of men that were already there waiting when we arrived. The girls and I found it slightly sketchy. Was this all a set up? Were they waiting here to get the drop on us? I mean if I wanted to rob some foreigners and make them disappear, this looked like as good of a place as any. Childhood stories tell us that nothing good ever comes from being under a bridge or overpass.
Thankfully, we were just being paranoid, and the whole gang hopped in the van.
 |
| The landing spot and the overpass that was possibly going to serve as our grave. Our flight would start from the top of that very mountain! |
It turned out that my job was to pick up Mr. Lee and Megan or Kelleen after they jumped so he could drive us back to the top and we could do it all over again. The other guy in the van had nothing to do with our little adventure.
The road up the mountain was steep and winding, with some sharp F1-type turns. The thought of having to drive a bulky van down this treacherous road made me nervous. I just prayed Mr. Lee regularly checked the brakes.
When we got to the top of the mountain and we looked out at the view, that's when shit got real. We unloaded the equipment and made our way to the jump spot. To my surprise, there was a large group of people waiting for their turn to jump. It reminded me of airplanes waiting for their turn to take off from the runway. Watching the first guy take off was so surreal; it was like something out of Super Mario World.
For those who have never seen paragliding before, two or three people stand ten feet or so behind you, holding your canopy. The jumper starts out facing the canopy while holding onto the suspension lines that connect to the canopy, as if holding on to an assortment of balloons, and starts running backwards. Once the canopy inflates, the jumper lets go of the lines, turns around, and starts running for dear life until the end of the runway. Then it's essentially sink or swim.
 |
| It's sink or swim time, Megan! |
The takeoff was definitely the scariest part for exactly that reason. First of all, when you're running, you can't look back, so you don't know if your canopy is inflating properly. If you hear people screaming behind you, that's pretty much your only signal to stop running. It happened a couple times right before I was supposed to go, and it made me somewhat weary. You're at the wind's mercy at that point.
Mr. Lee called the group over and held out what looked like an extendable police baton with really good reach, except there was a small go pro camera attached at the end. I figured he wanted to take a group photo in case this was the last time we'd all be seen together and alive.
 |
| From left to right: Uriel Mendoza, Kelleen Lanagan, and Megan Huber. Last seen together in the Cheongdo area heading towards a mountain in a minivan with a man in his 60's. |
I stood in front of Mr. Lee and got clipped on to him, my life resting in his hands, and was instructed to run when given the signal. The canopy pulls you in the opposite direction, but you have to keep pumping those legs until you run out of runway.
I honestly don't remember what was going through my mind as I stood waiting for the signal. My emotions fell somewhere between excited and nervous, but fear had definitely left the picture as soon as I was strapped on to Mr. Lee. Somehow, I just knew everything would work out fine.
You know how as a kid, you're always told to look away from the needle when you're getting an injection? I think not being able to see the canopy and whether or not it was inflating properly behind me just put it out of my thoughts. The only thing running through my mind was the word "run" in big bold letters, and that's exactly what I did until I couldn't feel the ground beneath me anymore. With my feet dangling beneath me, Mr. Lee instructed me to sit back. The turtle shell backpack that I was wearing was essentially a car seat. I sat back while Mr. Lee danced and flirted with the winds and I enjoyed the view.
In that initial moment of flight, I was surprised to find that rather than experiencing an adrenaline rush, I was overcome by an unparalleled level of tranquility and serenity that made me laugh uncontrollably. Life was perfect. Directly below me was the very road we had taken to get to the mountain's peak. I admired its beautiful curves and the trees that stood guard along its sides. Being weightless and watching the cars travel to and fro, I felt like I was frozen, pinned to the sky with an invisible thumbtack, stuck in a moment in time while the rest of the world continued spinning. And then there were the mountains. God, I love those mountains. I will sorely miss them when I go home.
I was holding on to the go pro camera-on-a-stick the entire time, but I was so deeply entranced by the view that I forgot all about it. Eventually, Mr. Lee grabbed it from me and started moving it around to show me what I was supposed to do before handing it back. You can see this in the video below. The problem is, after that, I became concerned with not dropping the damn thing--even though I knew full well that it was clipped to my side. With my luck, something would go wrong and Mr. Lee would be out of a camera.
Our flight lasted a good ten minutes. Towards the end, as we turned to line up with the dirt road-turned-runway, we flew right over the highway, and I couldn't help but wonder what the people in those cars were thinking.
As came in for our landing, Mr. Lee tried telling me that I was to lift my legs when we hit the ground. I didn't understand why, but I did as I was told, and I successfully landed on my ass and very much alive.
Huzzah!
I thanked Mr. Lee profusely, not just for the successful flight, but for giving me the opportunity of a lifetime.
Megan, Kelleen, and our Korean friend were waiting for us at the bottom with the van. I didn't give the girls any of the details, preferring to make it a surprise.
Mr. Lee and his compatriot were hungry, so we grabbed lunch at a Korean restaurant nearby before making our way back up the mountain.
Kelleen was next. While she waited for her turn, we saw the unthinkable happen. A man took off, and everything seemed to go fine for about five seconds, and then his canopy went flat and he disappeared out of sight. I have no idea how far he fell, but some girls went looking for him over the edge, and we didn't see any of them for the rest of the day. I like to think that they helped the guy up and they walked back up to the top of the mountain along some dirt road. That's totally what happened. I think.
To our surprise, the next person in line took off without missing a beat. Nobody seemed particularly concerned for this fellow. The show must go on, after all.
Kudos to Kelleen--this didn't seem to shake her at all despite the fact that she was one person away from taking to the skies.
After Kelleen successfully took flight, Megan and I caught another frightful sight. This time, the person was much higher in the sky when their canopy got tangled on one end and they started free-falling for a good couple seconds before it somehow became untangled and he leveled out. You could hear everybody hold their collective breaths in that moment. Of course this only increased poor Megan's fears.
I'm happy to say that I successfully maneuvered that beastly van down the mountain's zigzagging roller coaster roads and we picked up our two little gachis.
By the time we got back to the top, it was round 2:00 in the afternoon, and there were at least 14 paragliders drifting in the air like mystical birds. It was quite the sight to behold.
Megan had some sweaty palm action going on from nervousness, but to her credit, she didn't back down, and of the three of us, she looks the most ecstatic and gleeful in her airborne pictures.
 |
| This is the look of fear. |
Having survived our adventure, we agreed a celebratory pizza was in order, and so once Mr. Lee dropped us off back in new downtown, we made our way to my favourite restaurant in all of Ulsan: Bella de Notte. I can't think of a better meal to celebrate being alive than my very own Italian Margarita pizza, topped off with a nice cold Moretti beer.
 |
| This was taken on my very first visit to Bella de Notte. This picture is my happy place. |
 |
| Waygooks: 1; Mountain: 0. |
Wednesday, November 27, 2013
I Got Beat Up By Monks
Well, that's not true, but it sure feels that way!
I spent this past weekend at Beomeosa Temple, a Buddhist temple in what has clearly become my favourite city in Korea: Busan--it was my fifth visit to that magical place.
Who knew sitting could be so freakin' exhausting?! On Monday I could barely go up and down a flight of stairs. Them monks go hard, yo.It's now Wednesday, and though I feel much better, I'm pretty sure I strained something in my right leg.
Anywho, I arrived at Beomeosa Station at around 11:30 on Saturday, leaving me an hour and a half to make the half hour uphill walk to the temple's entrance. Needing nourishment, my stomach set its sights on the very first thing it came across: Lotteria, which is Korea's equivalent to McDonalds. My stomach screamed, "Feed meeeee!" and violently pulled me towards the building's entrance.
A half hour later, my stomach hung its head in shame and apologized, realizing what it had just done. With a belly full of greasy junk, I now had to trek up a rather unpleasant incline to get to the temple's entrance. Stupid stomach...stupid lack of will power...stupid delicious spicy chicken hamburger.
Oh, who am I kidding? I could never stay angry at you, spicy chicken hamburger. I love you.
After approaching a couple of strangers and asking for "Beo-meo-sa Temple," I eventually realized why they either waved me off like they were flicking at a bug or looked at me like I'd grown a second head--the street food vendor replied with "Bohmohsa?" and I nodded violently.
He gave me the best directions I could've asked for, all with simple hand gestures: Take the first left, then turn right, then turn left, and take another right. Got it.
I ever so slowly made my way up the steep roads with a greasy bowling ball bouncing in my gut and a rapidly growing sweat mark spreading across my back in the shape of the bat signal. (It was pretty chilly and we were told to dress warm, so I was wearing two shirts, a sweater, a scarf, and my jacket, all topped off with my backpack.)
Forty minutes later, I arrived at the same time as another guest, and we were the first ones there. I'm glad I did, too, because I ended up befriending and exchanging e-mails with a fellow who is three months away from being ordained as a monk. After studying for four years, he was graduating monk school!
He was a really cool Polish dude by the name of Cheon Mun, which translates to Gateway to the Sky. He was born of Polish descent, but spent seven years in Seattle and a bit of time in British Columbia. He almost immediately and instantaneously destroyed every preconception I had about monks. Asked what his plans were once he graduated, he jokingly said something to the extend of, "Well, hopefully I'll die. That's all I really have planned."
From there, we talked about everything from the music scene in Busan to the movie Machete starring Danny Trejo and how it's better than the sequel, and even the now infamous JCVD epic splits commercial for Volvo.
It felt kind of odd watching an introductory video about Buddhism in a Buddhist temple on a plasma television, but the even bigger anomaly was our guide, who was in the same graduating class as Cheon Mun. He walked into the temple toting an iPad. My friends shared in my surprise at the sight. I guess we all just imagined monks living very modest, simple lives, rather than lol-ing over the latest cat meme.
Nonetheless, there he was.
Our other guide was an actual monk--a middle-aged bald man who has been a monk for 20 years. Like Buddha himself, his smile was a warm beam of freakin' sunlight. Being in his presence, you couldn't help but feel a wave of tranquility wash over you.
Our group was split into Korean guests sitting in three rows on the left side of the room and foreign guests sitting in three rows on the right side. The division was important because we had a translator with us who would translate whatever the monk said whenever he would pause.
The itinerary for the weekend looked like this:
Saturday
1:30 - 2:00: Introductory video
2:00 - 3:00: Learn temple manners
3:20 - 5:20: Opening ceremony, self-introduction, temple tour
5:30 - 6:20: Buddhist four-bowl dinner (and learn proper dinner etiquette)
6:30 - 7:00: Badass percussion performance*** and evening changing ceremony
7:30 - 9:00: 108 prostrations and 108 beads of happiness
9:00: Bedtime
***Not actual name
Sunday
3:30 - 4:00: Another insane percussion performance and opening ceremony
4:10 - 6:00: 108 prostrations and meditation
6:00 - 6:45: Buddhist four-bowl meal
6:45 - 7:00: Watch the sunrise
7:00 - 8:30: Tour to Gyemyng hermitage
9:00 - 10:30: Talk with a monk over tea
11:00: Closing ceremony
Now while I'd like to go through everything with you and give you a clear glimpse into everything we learned and experienced, keep in mind that they threw a lot of information at us in the span of 24 hours and woke us up at 3:00 in the morning on Sunday, so I apologize if my memory on Buddhist knowledge and terms is fuzzy, because, well, my memory is always fuzzy to begin with, and if you wake me up at 3:00 am and make me sit like a human pretzel, my mind isn't exactly going to work at 100 per cent. I'll try to gleam some information from various sites to refresh my memory, but I can't promise anything.
1:30 - 2:00: Introductory Video
We watched the video, which gave us a brief intro to the history of Buddhism, its Chinese and Indian origins, and its development throughout Korean history. My favourite part, though, was the end credits, which featured Enya's "Only Time," now probably more commonly known as the JCVD Epic Splits song. The song selection drew a chuckle from some of us, including, surprisingly, my new monk friend, Cheon Moon, because of course monks watch YouTube, you culturally ignorant fool. They're not monks or something. Wait...nevermind.
2:00 - 3:00: Temple Manners
This period essentially consisted of learning how to properly bow when you greet a monk or enter a temple, as well as how to properly bow during prayer. When you enter a temple, you perform three prostrations. One prostration involves kneeling with your palms together at chest level, bending over to place your head on the mat, lifting your hands above your ears in order to support Buddha, getting back into a kneeling position with palms together, and rising to your feet. Then repeat two more times. The first prostration is dedicated to the Buddha, the second is for the Dhamma, Buddha's teachings, and the third is for the community of Buddhist practitioners everywhere.
It was fascinating to see how every little action or gesture had a deep-rooted significance; every act had a purpose. For example, to signal for us to bow, the guide would strike a fish-shaped wooden object because of the fact that fish don't have eyelids and they sleep with their eyes open. This symbolizes that fish see all knowledge in the world.
We were all also informed that there's a little Buddha hiding inside all of us. I don't quite remember the poetic phrasing the monk used to describe this philosophy, but essentially, the Buddha's spirit lies deep within each and every one of us, but it's hidden from us by our own greed and ignorance.
Now while I'm not a particularly religious fellow, this is where Buddhism intrigues me. At one point on Sunday, the monk described Buddhism as a religion of the self--or something to that effect. In other words, your battle for salvation lies within yourself. It's a journey of deep reflection and meditation.
Nifty.
Once you reach that moment of enlightenment, it's almost as if the physical world around you falls away and all that's left is Buddha smiling back at you in the mirror. That's why there was actually a mirror in the room with the words "You are Buddha" written at the bottom.
Self-Introductions, Temple Tour, and Opening Ceremony
This was the first of many instances during the weekend where I felt like I was back at summer camp. We sat in a circle, introduced ourselves, and explained our reason for doing a temple stay. The most common answer among foreigners was to learn more about the Buddhist religion, customs, and traditions.
Koreans, however, offered up more interesting answers. One teenage boy said he'd just gone through some difficult times and his mom suggested he attend a temple stay to help him out. Two teenage girls were looking to get away from the stress of school and exams. One woman was looking to find clarity, while another was just looking to get away from the hustle and bustle of life.
My answer was a bit of both: Learn about the culture, while also looking to bring more happiness and less stress into my life.
During the tour, we were given some history on the temple. It's over 1, 300 years old, having been built during the Sulla dynasty. (Thank you, Internet!) It's been burned down twice--once during Japanese invasion and once by accident.
The temple played a big role in defending against Japanese invasion on more than one occasion. Imagine 300, but played out with monks, and rather than Gerard Butler kicking ass, it was King Munmu. Seriously. As the Japanese were invading, the guy had a dream in which he was told to get Master Uisan to chant for seven days and then build a temple on Kumjong-san Mountain. Then "the earth opened up and all the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas appeared and helped to drive away the Japanese." The earth opened up, man!
The tour itself began with with a visit to another temple hall, where we were told about the various Buddha statues and paintings. Out of the corner of my eye, I also caught sight of a middle-aged woman who was flying through her prostrations without skipping a beat. She moved effortlessly. It was almost hypnotizing.
From there, we walked down a flight of stairs to see the pagoda, which contains some of the Buddha's relics inside.
We then walked through the three gates that mark the entrance to the temple. The Non-Duality gate was the first gate we came across, however it's actually the last gate you walk through as you approach the temple. This is the gate where our world meets Buddha's world.
The next gate was protected by the four guardians who protect Buddha from the north, south, east, and west. These were massive beings, each holding something of religious importance. The guardian of the north, for example, held a pagoda in one hand, which represents Buddha Himself. My favourite guardian, though, had to be the dude rocking the guitar while crushing some poor schmuck under his heel. Buddha was totally a metal head, I just knew it. (My theory would be proven correct later on, but more on that in a bit.)
The final gate was the "One-Pillar Gate" It's named the One-Pillar Gate because when viewed from the side, the four stone pillars appear as one. It represents the path to enlightenment. (See, everything has some sort of huge significance!)
It is worth noting, however, that though these structures are identified as gates, there are no actual doors on them. Our guide explained to us during the closing ceremony on Sunday that the reason for this is that all are welcome to enter and leave the temple by their own free will. Buddha lets you do your own thing because He's just cool like that.
Next up was the main hall, where we performed the opening ceremony. It was all in Korean, but we were given a translation sheet to follow along. We sang, we bowed, we roasted marshmallows and had tickle fights in our pajamas--it was a jolly good time. (I may have made up that last part.)
Before leaving the hall, everybody faced towards the middle of their respective row and said one of three lines, my favourite of which was the very simple "Be happy." I could relate to that. The other two were something along the lines of "May you find Buddha" and "May all of your dreams come true." Our monk explained that all three expressions basically mean the same thing, because any monk dreams to find enlightenment and happiness through their inner Buddha.
Buddhist Four-Bowl Meal
Only my fellow foreign teachers will understand the pang in my heart as we walked into a cafeteria filled with perfectly fine tables and chairs, only to be directed to a special room where we were instructed to sit along the edge of the room. Enough with the sitting, already!
In front of each of us were four differently sized bowls, one placed inside the next like those traditional Russian dolls, a little pouch for our chop sticks and spoon, a folded towel, and a folded place mat. We were told to sit approximately 20 cm from everything. The place mat was then unfolded so that we could place each bowl in a specific quadrant. The top left quadrant was for our side dishes; top right was for our rinsing water; the bottom left--the biggest bowl--was for our rice; bottom right was a soup bowl. The chop sticks and spoons were to be placed in the rinsing bowl to start the meal, and once everything was consumed, they were then placed in your soup bowl to signal that you were finished your meal. You get all that? And we haven't even gotten our food yet.
After quickly sloshing the rinsing water around each bowl, small carts were rolled around the room for us to serve our own foods, however we had to be careful not to take too much, because monks are required to eat everything that they put on their plates. I have no idea what the punishment might be. I like to think it's something absurd like they have to recite the alphabet backwards, stand on one foot for six hours, or wear a sign that reads "I'm not Buddha."
Side dishes were sausages-looking things made out of beans, chopped up cucumber, and various other veggie treats.
Once dinner was finished, the rinsing water was once again poured into each bowl in successive order to wash off any small remnants of food before pouring it back into the rinsing bowl and drinking it all down. You then use your towel to dry off your goods and pack everything up. Now I personally found this process rather gross, but regardless, Mr. Monk said he's maintained his bowl set in good condition using this cleaning method for countless years.
As noobs, however, we were allowed to use the sink in the other room to wash our bowls. Although I think this had more to do with the fact that the next group of visitors would have to use the same set of bowls.
6:30 - 7:00: A Metal Concert
So let me set the scene for you: In front of us stood the bell pavilion, which housed four instruments. First, there was a cloud-shaped bell that was rung in honour of all sentient beings in the sky. Next, there was a large wooden fish that was played in honour of all sentient beings in the water. There was also a bell that was struck in honour of sentient beings in all levels of the world. (I didn't quite get the gist of the whole levels thing, but I believe the idea is that there are multiple levels layered on top of one another in our universe, and this bell connects to all of them.) Finally, there was the gigantic 8-10 feet wide hanging buffalo-hide drum. Don't quote me, but I believe the drum was struck to spread the teaching of the Buddha around the world.
The performance in the evening went from loudest to quietest instrument, starting with the drum and ending with the cloud-shaped bell, while the performance on Sunday morning was played in the reverse order.
The drum performance was quite possibly my favourite part of the entire weekend. There were four monks in the pavilion, and they took turns alternating between banging the crap out of the drums and brushing the drumsticks along its outer edge. Monk #2 was undeniably my favourite. I kept expecting him to toss one of his drumsticks up in the air, flash the devil horns back at the crowd with his tongue out, and catch the drumstick without losing a step. The whole performance probably lasted a good 15 minutes.
From there, we went to the main temple hall, where we performed the evening changing ceremony. We sang, we prayed, we bowed, and we had a pillow fight followed by a sexy dance party. True story.
7:30 - 9:00: 108 Prostrations and 108 Wishes
Why 108? I don't remember. I just looked it up online, and one site states that according to Korean Buddhist tradition, there are 108 different Buddhas. That sounds about right, so let's just go with that one.
The process didn't seem as daunting as I initially feared, though, once we were told exactly how we were going to perform these prostrations. I was concerned that if we were running through these prostrations in a sprint like that woman I saw earlier in the day, my legs would just give way around halfway and I'd fall over, because I knew for a fact that I wouldn't be able to keep up with that pace.
Thankfully, that was not what our friendly monk leader had in store for us. Instead, we were doing crafts! (See, told you it was a sleepover camp.) With every prostration, as we were bent over our mats on our knees and elbows, we were to string one wooden bead through a string.
Also, as we strung each bead, we were to wish for something. We could wish for the same thing over and over again, or we could make a different wish for every prostration. I had the smiling faces of my friends and loved ones in my thoughts as I made my wishes, which gave my mind a bit of respite from the discomfort of the prostrations.
9:00: Bedtime
If a 9:00 scheduled bedtime doesn't scream sleepover camp, I don't know what does. Of course the early curfew was due to the 3:00 wake-up call in just a few hours. The gents were taken to our own room, where we were each given surprisingly comfortable mats to sleep on (all of the foreigners double stacked), a blanket, and a rather useless small pillow. The floors were nicely heated, which I think helped me fall asleep fairly quickly.
3:30 - 4:00: More Drums! And Morning Ceremony
You know you're not fit to be a monk when 8 guys can't properly fold and put away blankets and mats in a cabinet. The blasted things just wouldn't fit! One guy even snapped off a piece of the top of the cabinet while trying to squeeze one last mat on the top shelf. We said screw it and just left the remainders outside of the cabinet, because we still had to get ready and get to the bell pavilion in time for the morning percussion performance.
To no one's surprise, not everybody made it to the pavilion on time for the start to the show. The setlist was essentially more of the same from the previous day.
4:10 - 6:00: 108 Prostrations and Meditation
Once again, the noobs were let off the hook. Rather than do another 108 prostrations while we were still recovering from the previous night's efforts, the monk decided to let us do 54 prostrations and think about the important relationships in our lives. In other words, instead of making crafts, we were doing worksheets. With every prostration, we were to write a name of somebody in our lives and list them as either Respect & Thanks, Love & Relation, Compromise & Forgive, or Company (Friend).
As for the meditation, that's something I've always wanted to try in hopes of helping my Anxiety and my sleeping problems; I just never knew where or how to begin. The monk instructed us to get sit in a lotus position, which for the uneducated like myself, means melting your bones and bending your rubber legs so that your feet rest on your legs and your legs make a perfect X on your lap. Since I'm not the most flexible person in the world, I had to settle for the half lotus position, which just means resting one of your feet on your legs, but still making an X with your legs. Being the cool and equitable monk that he is, though, he said that if neither the lotus or half lotus position is possible for some, then they can just sit in whatever position they find most comfortable for meditating. I was determined to be at least quasi-legit, though, so I stuck with the half lotus.
We did two 15-minute meditation sessions broken up by a lesson that couldn't have been that important since I don't remember what it was about. (Hopefully it wasn't step by step instructions for finding inner peace or something.)
I found it interesting that the instructions the monk gave us noobs for meditating greatly resembled the advice a doctor told me to help with my sleeping habits. A doctor told me that before going to bed, I should find a quiet place that isn't my bed, take a deep breath, and exhale as I say the number one. I'm supposed to repeat this step until I get to ten, and then count back down to one. However if I find my mind wandering at all, I'm supposed to start back at one. The idea is to clear your mind of all thoughts before heading off to bed. To the doctor's credit, whenever I remember to perform this little routine before bed, I do find my thoughts to be lighter as my head hits the pillow.
The monk's instructions, on the other hand, were to count to ten, count back down to one, count up to twenty, count back down to one, and continue in this manner until we hit 50.
Nifty.
During the first meditation session, I found my thoughts running rampant as usual. I thought about friends and family back home, I thought about mistakes in the past, and the potential of the future--the usual shit that keeps me awake at night.
Just before the first session came to an end, this image came to mind of me slamming the door on all of the monsters and demons in my life--all the regrets and the self-destructive thoughts and tendencies. This brought a smile to my face just as the monk brought us back to reality.
During the second session, I tried to focus more on emptying my head, which is something I've never been able to do. To help us out, the monk instructed us to think the words "Peace in my mind" as we breathed in and "A smile on my face" as we breathed out. I found this method helped me focus much more rather than counting up and down--mainly because when I'm counting, I try to envision the numbers as I say them. This time, though, I kept one solid image in my mind at all times: the sunset I saw the first time I was in San Juan del Sur in Nicaragua. To this day, it's one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen, and it certainly put peace in my mind and a smile on my face.
Oh, and the symphony of stomachs howling out during meditation also put a smile on my face, though it was rather distracting.
6:00 - 6:45: Buddhist Four-Bowl Meal
A repeat of the previous day.
6:45 - 7:00: Watch the Sunrise
Sadly, this never happened because there were clouds in the sky. So instead we just stood around outside the cafeteria for 25 minutes. This was probably the only disappointment to the entire weekend--especially considering we woke up at 3:00 in the morning. A sunrise would have been a nice reward for our efforts.
7:00 - 8:30: Tour to Gyemyng hermitage
A steep 15 minute ascent later, we came to the Gyemyng hermitage. I wish I could tell you what a hermitage is, but unfortunately our translator didn't make the hike with us, so the foreigners were left to their own devices on this part of the itinerary.
I can tell you that the view from the hermitage was absolutely breathtaking, though. Between the vibrant palette of colours on display in the fall leaves and row after row of gorgeous haze-covered mystical mountains, I think it's safe to say everybody found at least a little bit of peace and tranquility while being up there.
9:00 - 10:30: Tea Time with a Monk
I lied earlier when I said that my only disappointment through the whole weekend was not being able to see the sunrise. When I initially read the itinerary online and saw that it said "Tea with a Monk," I got the idea in my head that each participant was going to get 1-on-1 time to chat with a different monk.
Sadly, this was not the case. Instead, we were treated to green tea and yellow tea and were given free reign to ask questions about our fearless leader, the temple, or Buddhism in general. We were paired up for the tea ceremony, and one partner was designated as the tea master.
Steph volunteered me as the tea master in our group, and I then had to pay extra attention as fearless leader instructed us on the process of making the various types of tea, how to properly serve it, and how to sit properly.
Some basic rules:
1) The host is always the tea master.
2) If the host if the elder, the guests are to rest on their knees; if the guest is the elder, the host rests on his knees.
3) If pouring for several guests, you fill each guest's cup halfway to the top, starting with the eldest, and then fill up another 30% of everybody's cup in the reverse order. The logic here is that by giving the elder the first pour, they get the best pour, because the closer you get to the bottom of the pot, the more bitter the tea gets.
The question period proved to be fairly entertaining. I think Steph probably asked the best question of the lot. She asked about the chant that is recited just before dinner. Specifically, she asked why monks are ashamed to accept their food. His answer was basically that a monk is always striving to attain enlightenment, and anything short of that makes him unworthy. (Talk about harsh.) He accepts the food in hopes that it will give him the nourishment and clarity to attain enlightenment.
Another highlight was his response to the question about why he became a monk in the first place. This, he said, was the most frequently asked question he received. Regardless, though, his answer was pretty suave. He said he became a monk in order to meet each and every one of us. You sure know how to make a guy feel special, Mr. Monk.
11:00: Closing Ceremony
Sleepover camp wouldn't be complete without one more worksheet and another craft. This time our tasks were to write promises to ourselves and offer them up to Buddha's altar. I guess we have to hold ourselves accountable to Buddha now! (Although I'm pretty sure I've already broken one of my promises. Sorry, Buddha.) The craft was a little souvenir gift for ourselves--a bracelet made of black beads.
We ended the festivities with--what else--a group photo.
Although I obviously didn't find inner peace or enlightenment after 24 hours at the temple, I definitely appreciated the learning experience. Also, the introspective nature of Buddhism really appeals to me. I hope to do more temple stays at other temples once the weather warms up again. In the meantime, I'll probably try to make a habit of meditating everyday in the morning and night. We could all use a little clarity in our lives.
**Note: A huge thanks to Kirsten for these absolutely beautiful pictures!
I spent this past weekend at Beomeosa Temple, a Buddhist temple in what has clearly become my favourite city in Korea: Busan--it was my fifth visit to that magical place.
Who knew sitting could be so freakin' exhausting?! On Monday I could barely go up and down a flight of stairs. Them monks go hard, yo.It's now Wednesday, and though I feel much better, I'm pretty sure I strained something in my right leg.
Anywho, I arrived at Beomeosa Station at around 11:30 on Saturday, leaving me an hour and a half to make the half hour uphill walk to the temple's entrance. Needing nourishment, my stomach set its sights on the very first thing it came across: Lotteria, which is Korea's equivalent to McDonalds. My stomach screamed, "Feed meeeee!" and violently pulled me towards the building's entrance.
A half hour later, my stomach hung its head in shame and apologized, realizing what it had just done. With a belly full of greasy junk, I now had to trek up a rather unpleasant incline to get to the temple's entrance. Stupid stomach...stupid lack of will power...stupid delicious spicy chicken hamburger.
Oh, who am I kidding? I could never stay angry at you, spicy chicken hamburger. I love you.
After approaching a couple of strangers and asking for "Beo-meo-sa Temple," I eventually realized why they either waved me off like they were flicking at a bug or looked at me like I'd grown a second head--the street food vendor replied with "Bohmohsa?" and I nodded violently.
He gave me the best directions I could've asked for, all with simple hand gestures: Take the first left, then turn right, then turn left, and take another right. Got it.
I ever so slowly made my way up the steep roads with a greasy bowling ball bouncing in my gut and a rapidly growing sweat mark spreading across my back in the shape of the bat signal. (It was pretty chilly and we were told to dress warm, so I was wearing two shirts, a sweater, a scarf, and my jacket, all topped off with my backpack.)
Forty minutes later, I arrived at the same time as another guest, and we were the first ones there. I'm glad I did, too, because I ended up befriending and exchanging e-mails with a fellow who is three months away from being ordained as a monk. After studying for four years, he was graduating monk school!
He was a really cool Polish dude by the name of Cheon Mun, which translates to Gateway to the Sky. He was born of Polish descent, but spent seven years in Seattle and a bit of time in British Columbia. He almost immediately and instantaneously destroyed every preconception I had about monks. Asked what his plans were once he graduated, he jokingly said something to the extend of, "Well, hopefully I'll die. That's all I really have planned."
From there, we talked about everything from the music scene in Busan to the movie Machete starring Danny Trejo and how it's better than the sequel, and even the now infamous JCVD epic splits commercial for Volvo.
It felt kind of odd watching an introductory video about Buddhism in a Buddhist temple on a plasma television, but the even bigger anomaly was our guide, who was in the same graduating class as Cheon Mun. He walked into the temple toting an iPad. My friends shared in my surprise at the sight. I guess we all just imagined monks living very modest, simple lives, rather than lol-ing over the latest cat meme.
Nonetheless, there he was.
Our other guide was an actual monk--a middle-aged bald man who has been a monk for 20 years. Like Buddha himself, his smile was a warm beam of freakin' sunlight. Being in his presence, you couldn't help but feel a wave of tranquility wash over you.
Our group was split into Korean guests sitting in three rows on the left side of the room and foreign guests sitting in three rows on the right side. The division was important because we had a translator with us who would translate whatever the monk said whenever he would pause.
The itinerary for the weekend looked like this:
Saturday
1:30 - 2:00: Introductory video
2:00 - 3:00: Learn temple manners
3:20 - 5:20: Opening ceremony, self-introduction, temple tour
5:30 - 6:20: Buddhist four-bowl dinner (and learn proper dinner etiquette)
6:30 - 7:00: Badass percussion performance*** and evening changing ceremony
7:30 - 9:00: 108 prostrations and 108 beads of happiness
9:00: Bedtime
***Not actual name
Sunday
3:30 - 4:00: Another insane percussion performance and opening ceremony
4:10 - 6:00: 108 prostrations and meditation
6:00 - 6:45: Buddhist four-bowl meal
6:45 - 7:00: Watch the sunrise
7:00 - 8:30: Tour to Gyemyng hermitage
9:00 - 10:30: Talk with a monk over tea
11:00: Closing ceremony
Now while I'd like to go through everything with you and give you a clear glimpse into everything we learned and experienced, keep in mind that they threw a lot of information at us in the span of 24 hours and woke us up at 3:00 in the morning on Sunday, so I apologize if my memory on Buddhist knowledge and terms is fuzzy, because, well, my memory is always fuzzy to begin with, and if you wake me up at 3:00 am and make me sit like a human pretzel, my mind isn't exactly going to work at 100 per cent. I'll try to gleam some information from various sites to refresh my memory, but I can't promise anything.
1:30 - 2:00: Introductory Video
We watched the video, which gave us a brief intro to the history of Buddhism, its Chinese and Indian origins, and its development throughout Korean history. My favourite part, though, was the end credits, which featured Enya's "Only Time," now probably more commonly known as the JCVD Epic Splits song. The song selection drew a chuckle from some of us, including, surprisingly, my new monk friend, Cheon Moon, because of course monks watch YouTube, you culturally ignorant fool. They're not monks or something. Wait...nevermind.
2:00 - 3:00: Temple Manners
This period essentially consisted of learning how to properly bow when you greet a monk or enter a temple, as well as how to properly bow during prayer. When you enter a temple, you perform three prostrations. One prostration involves kneeling with your palms together at chest level, bending over to place your head on the mat, lifting your hands above your ears in order to support Buddha, getting back into a kneeling position with palms together, and rising to your feet. Then repeat two more times. The first prostration is dedicated to the Buddha, the second is for the Dhamma, Buddha's teachings, and the third is for the community of Buddhist practitioners everywhere.
It was fascinating to see how every little action or gesture had a deep-rooted significance; every act had a purpose. For example, to signal for us to bow, the guide would strike a fish-shaped wooden object because of the fact that fish don't have eyelids and they sleep with their eyes open. This symbolizes that fish see all knowledge in the world.
We were all also informed that there's a little Buddha hiding inside all of us. I don't quite remember the poetic phrasing the monk used to describe this philosophy, but essentially, the Buddha's spirit lies deep within each and every one of us, but it's hidden from us by our own greed and ignorance.
Now while I'm not a particularly religious fellow, this is where Buddhism intrigues me. At one point on Sunday, the monk described Buddhism as a religion of the self--or something to that effect. In other words, your battle for salvation lies within yourself. It's a journey of deep reflection and meditation.
Nifty.
Once you reach that moment of enlightenment, it's almost as if the physical world around you falls away and all that's left is Buddha smiling back at you in the mirror. That's why there was actually a mirror in the room with the words "You are Buddha" written at the bottom.
Self-Introductions, Temple Tour, and Opening Ceremony
This was the first of many instances during the weekend where I felt like I was back at summer camp. We sat in a circle, introduced ourselves, and explained our reason for doing a temple stay. The most common answer among foreigners was to learn more about the Buddhist religion, customs, and traditions.
Koreans, however, offered up more interesting answers. One teenage boy said he'd just gone through some difficult times and his mom suggested he attend a temple stay to help him out. Two teenage girls were looking to get away from the stress of school and exams. One woman was looking to find clarity, while another was just looking to get away from the hustle and bustle of life.
My answer was a bit of both: Learn about the culture, while also looking to bring more happiness and less stress into my life.
During the tour, we were given some history on the temple. It's over 1, 300 years old, having been built during the Sulla dynasty. (Thank you, Internet!) It's been burned down twice--once during Japanese invasion and once by accident.
The temple played a big role in defending against Japanese invasion on more than one occasion. Imagine 300, but played out with monks, and rather than Gerard Butler kicking ass, it was King Munmu. Seriously. As the Japanese were invading, the guy had a dream in which he was told to get Master Uisan to chant for seven days and then build a temple on Kumjong-san Mountain. Then "the earth opened up and all the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas appeared and helped to drive away the Japanese." The earth opened up, man!
The tour itself began with with a visit to another temple hall, where we were told about the various Buddha statues and paintings. Out of the corner of my eye, I also caught sight of a middle-aged woman who was flying through her prostrations without skipping a beat. She moved effortlessly. It was almost hypnotizing.
From there, we walked down a flight of stairs to see the pagoda, which contains some of the Buddha's relics inside.
We then walked through the three gates that mark the entrance to the temple. The Non-Duality gate was the first gate we came across, however it's actually the last gate you walk through as you approach the temple. This is the gate where our world meets Buddha's world.
The next gate was protected by the four guardians who protect Buddha from the north, south, east, and west. These were massive beings, each holding something of religious importance. The guardian of the north, for example, held a pagoda in one hand, which represents Buddha Himself. My favourite guardian, though, had to be the dude rocking the guitar while crushing some poor schmuck under his heel. Buddha was totally a metal head, I just knew it. (My theory would be proven correct later on, but more on that in a bit.)
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| Two of the four guardians |
The final gate was the "One-Pillar Gate" It's named the One-Pillar Gate because when viewed from the side, the four stone pillars appear as one. It represents the path to enlightenment. (See, everything has some sort of huge significance!)
It is worth noting, however, that though these structures are identified as gates, there are no actual doors on them. Our guide explained to us during the closing ceremony on Sunday that the reason for this is that all are welcome to enter and leave the temple by their own free will. Buddha lets you do your own thing because He's just cool like that.
Next up was the main hall, where we performed the opening ceremony. It was all in Korean, but we were given a translation sheet to follow along. We sang, we bowed, we roasted marshmallows and had tickle fights in our pajamas--it was a jolly good time. (I may have made up that last part.)
Before leaving the hall, everybody faced towards the middle of their respective row and said one of three lines, my favourite of which was the very simple "Be happy." I could relate to that. The other two were something along the lines of "May you find Buddha" and "May all of your dreams come true." Our monk explained that all three expressions basically mean the same thing, because any monk dreams to find enlightenment and happiness through their inner Buddha.
Buddhist Four-Bowl Meal
Only my fellow foreign teachers will understand the pang in my heart as we walked into a cafeteria filled with perfectly fine tables and chairs, only to be directed to a special room where we were instructed to sit along the edge of the room. Enough with the sitting, already!
In front of each of us were four differently sized bowls, one placed inside the next like those traditional Russian dolls, a little pouch for our chop sticks and spoon, a folded towel, and a folded place mat. We were told to sit approximately 20 cm from everything. The place mat was then unfolded so that we could place each bowl in a specific quadrant. The top left quadrant was for our side dishes; top right was for our rinsing water; the bottom left--the biggest bowl--was for our rice; bottom right was a soup bowl. The chop sticks and spoons were to be placed in the rinsing bowl to start the meal, and once everything was consumed, they were then placed in your soup bowl to signal that you were finished your meal. You get all that? And we haven't even gotten our food yet.
After quickly sloshing the rinsing water around each bowl, small carts were rolled around the room for us to serve our own foods, however we had to be careful not to take too much, because monks are required to eat everything that they put on their plates. I have no idea what the punishment might be. I like to think it's something absurd like they have to recite the alphabet backwards, stand on one foot for six hours, or wear a sign that reads "I'm not Buddha."
Side dishes were sausages-looking things made out of beans, chopped up cucumber, and various other veggie treats.
Once dinner was finished, the rinsing water was once again poured into each bowl in successive order to wash off any small remnants of food before pouring it back into the rinsing bowl and drinking it all down. You then use your towel to dry off your goods and pack everything up. Now I personally found this process rather gross, but regardless, Mr. Monk said he's maintained his bowl set in good condition using this cleaning method for countless years.
As noobs, however, we were allowed to use the sink in the other room to wash our bowls. Although I think this had more to do with the fact that the next group of visitors would have to use the same set of bowls.
6:30 - 7:00: A Metal Concert
So let me set the scene for you: In front of us stood the bell pavilion, which housed four instruments. First, there was a cloud-shaped bell that was rung in honour of all sentient beings in the sky. Next, there was a large wooden fish that was played in honour of all sentient beings in the water. There was also a bell that was struck in honour of sentient beings in all levels of the world. (I didn't quite get the gist of the whole levels thing, but I believe the idea is that there are multiple levels layered on top of one another in our universe, and this bell connects to all of them.) Finally, there was the gigantic 8-10 feet wide hanging buffalo-hide drum. Don't quote me, but I believe the drum was struck to spread the teaching of the Buddha around the world.
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| "Are you ready to rock?!" - our monk guide |
The performance in the evening went from loudest to quietest instrument, starting with the drum and ending with the cloud-shaped bell, while the performance on Sunday morning was played in the reverse order.
The drum performance was quite possibly my favourite part of the entire weekend. There were four monks in the pavilion, and they took turns alternating between banging the crap out of the drums and brushing the drumsticks along its outer edge. Monk #2 was undeniably my favourite. I kept expecting him to toss one of his drumsticks up in the air, flash the devil horns back at the crowd with his tongue out, and catch the drumstick without losing a step. The whole performance probably lasted a good 15 minutes.
From there, we went to the main temple hall, where we performed the evening changing ceremony. We sang, we prayed, we bowed, and we had a pillow fight followed by a sexy dance party. True story.
7:30 - 9:00: 108 Prostrations and 108 Wishes
Why 108? I don't remember. I just looked it up online, and one site states that according to Korean Buddhist tradition, there are 108 different Buddhas. That sounds about right, so let's just go with that one.
The process didn't seem as daunting as I initially feared, though, once we were told exactly how we were going to perform these prostrations. I was concerned that if we were running through these prostrations in a sprint like that woman I saw earlier in the day, my legs would just give way around halfway and I'd fall over, because I knew for a fact that I wouldn't be able to keep up with that pace.
Thankfully, that was not what our friendly monk leader had in store for us. Instead, we were doing crafts! (See, told you it was a sleepover camp.) With every prostration, as we were bent over our mats on our knees and elbows, we were to string one wooden bead through a string.
Also, as we strung each bead, we were to wish for something. We could wish for the same thing over and over again, or we could make a different wish for every prostration. I had the smiling faces of my friends and loved ones in my thoughts as I made my wishes, which gave my mind a bit of respite from the discomfort of the prostrations.
9:00: Bedtime
If a 9:00 scheduled bedtime doesn't scream sleepover camp, I don't know what does. Of course the early curfew was due to the 3:00 wake-up call in just a few hours. The gents were taken to our own room, where we were each given surprisingly comfortable mats to sleep on (all of the foreigners double stacked), a blanket, and a rather useless small pillow. The floors were nicely heated, which I think helped me fall asleep fairly quickly.
3:30 - 4:00: More Drums! And Morning Ceremony
You know you're not fit to be a monk when 8 guys can't properly fold and put away blankets and mats in a cabinet. The blasted things just wouldn't fit! One guy even snapped off a piece of the top of the cabinet while trying to squeeze one last mat on the top shelf. We said screw it and just left the remainders outside of the cabinet, because we still had to get ready and get to the bell pavilion in time for the morning percussion performance.
To no one's surprise, not everybody made it to the pavilion on time for the start to the show. The setlist was essentially more of the same from the previous day.
4:10 - 6:00: 108 Prostrations and Meditation
Once again, the noobs were let off the hook. Rather than do another 108 prostrations while we were still recovering from the previous night's efforts, the monk decided to let us do 54 prostrations and think about the important relationships in our lives. In other words, instead of making crafts, we were doing worksheets. With every prostration, we were to write a name of somebody in our lives and list them as either Respect & Thanks, Love & Relation, Compromise & Forgive, or Company (Friend).
As for the meditation, that's something I've always wanted to try in hopes of helping my Anxiety and my sleeping problems; I just never knew where or how to begin. The monk instructed us to get sit in a lotus position, which for the uneducated like myself, means melting your bones and bending your rubber legs so that your feet rest on your legs and your legs make a perfect X on your lap. Since I'm not the most flexible person in the world, I had to settle for the half lotus position, which just means resting one of your feet on your legs, but still making an X with your legs. Being the cool and equitable monk that he is, though, he said that if neither the lotus or half lotus position is possible for some, then they can just sit in whatever position they find most comfortable for meditating. I was determined to be at least quasi-legit, though, so I stuck with the half lotus.
We did two 15-minute meditation sessions broken up by a lesson that couldn't have been that important since I don't remember what it was about. (Hopefully it wasn't step by step instructions for finding inner peace or something.)
I found it interesting that the instructions the monk gave us noobs for meditating greatly resembled the advice a doctor told me to help with my sleeping habits. A doctor told me that before going to bed, I should find a quiet place that isn't my bed, take a deep breath, and exhale as I say the number one. I'm supposed to repeat this step until I get to ten, and then count back down to one. However if I find my mind wandering at all, I'm supposed to start back at one. The idea is to clear your mind of all thoughts before heading off to bed. To the doctor's credit, whenever I remember to perform this little routine before bed, I do find my thoughts to be lighter as my head hits the pillow.
The monk's instructions, on the other hand, were to count to ten, count back down to one, count up to twenty, count back down to one, and continue in this manner until we hit 50.
Nifty.
During the first meditation session, I found my thoughts running rampant as usual. I thought about friends and family back home, I thought about mistakes in the past, and the potential of the future--the usual shit that keeps me awake at night.
Just before the first session came to an end, this image came to mind of me slamming the door on all of the monsters and demons in my life--all the regrets and the self-destructive thoughts and tendencies. This brought a smile to my face just as the monk brought us back to reality.
During the second session, I tried to focus more on emptying my head, which is something I've never been able to do. To help us out, the monk instructed us to think the words "Peace in my mind" as we breathed in and "A smile on my face" as we breathed out. I found this method helped me focus much more rather than counting up and down--mainly because when I'm counting, I try to envision the numbers as I say them. This time, though, I kept one solid image in my mind at all times: the sunset I saw the first time I was in San Juan del Sur in Nicaragua. To this day, it's one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen, and it certainly put peace in my mind and a smile on my face.
Oh, and the symphony of stomachs howling out during meditation also put a smile on my face, though it was rather distracting.
6:00 - 6:45: Buddhist Four-Bowl Meal
A repeat of the previous day.
6:45 - 7:00: Watch the Sunrise
Sadly, this never happened because there were clouds in the sky. So instead we just stood around outside the cafeteria for 25 minutes. This was probably the only disappointment to the entire weekend--especially considering we woke up at 3:00 in the morning. A sunrise would have been a nice reward for our efforts.
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| Sleep and sunrise-deprived, but still smiling! |
7:00 - 8:30: Tour to Gyemyng hermitage
A steep 15 minute ascent later, we came to the Gyemyng hermitage. I wish I could tell you what a hermitage is, but unfortunately our translator didn't make the hike with us, so the foreigners were left to their own devices on this part of the itinerary.
I can tell you that the view from the hermitage was absolutely breathtaking, though. Between the vibrant palette of colours on display in the fall leaves and row after row of gorgeous haze-covered mystical mountains, I think it's safe to say everybody found at least a little bit of peace and tranquility while being up there.
9:00 - 10:30: Tea Time with a Monk
I lied earlier when I said that my only disappointment through the whole weekend was not being able to see the sunrise. When I initially read the itinerary online and saw that it said "Tea with a Monk," I got the idea in my head that each participant was going to get 1-on-1 time to chat with a different monk.
Sadly, this was not the case. Instead, we were treated to green tea and yellow tea and were given free reign to ask questions about our fearless leader, the temple, or Buddhism in general. We were paired up for the tea ceremony, and one partner was designated as the tea master.
Steph volunteered me as the tea master in our group, and I then had to pay extra attention as fearless leader instructed us on the process of making the various types of tea, how to properly serve it, and how to sit properly.
Some basic rules:
1) The host is always the tea master.
2) If the host if the elder, the guests are to rest on their knees; if the guest is the elder, the host rests on his knees.
3) If pouring for several guests, you fill each guest's cup halfway to the top, starting with the eldest, and then fill up another 30% of everybody's cup in the reverse order. The logic here is that by giving the elder the first pour, they get the best pour, because the closer you get to the bottom of the pot, the more bitter the tea gets.
The question period proved to be fairly entertaining. I think Steph probably asked the best question of the lot. She asked about the chant that is recited just before dinner. Specifically, she asked why monks are ashamed to accept their food. His answer was basically that a monk is always striving to attain enlightenment, and anything short of that makes him unworthy. (Talk about harsh.) He accepts the food in hopes that it will give him the nourishment and clarity to attain enlightenment.
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| We had to recite this chant before our meal began. |
11:00: Closing Ceremony
Sleepover camp wouldn't be complete without one more worksheet and another craft. This time our tasks were to write promises to ourselves and offer them up to Buddha's altar. I guess we have to hold ourselves accountable to Buddha now! (Although I'm pretty sure I've already broken one of my promises. Sorry, Buddha.) The craft was a little souvenir gift for ourselves--a bracelet made of black beads.
We ended the festivities with--what else--a group photo.
Although I obviously didn't find inner peace or enlightenment after 24 hours at the temple, I definitely appreciated the learning experience. Also, the introspective nature of Buddhism really appeals to me. I hope to do more temple stays at other temples once the weather warms up again. In the meantime, I'll probably try to make a habit of meditating everyday in the morning and night. We could all use a little clarity in our lives.
**Note: A huge thanks to Kirsten for these absolutely beautiful pictures!
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Thursday, October 31, 2013
The Life of a Korean Teenager
My friend Monique directed me to this link a while back, and I just wanted to share it because it just broke my heart. I highly recommend you check out the site, watch the video, and if you feel so inclined, even make a donation. It's for a fantastic cause and will hopefully shed a desperately needed spotlight on an area of Korean culture that is in great need of change.
http://www.koreanhighschool.com/
http://www.koreanhighschool.com/
My First Temple!
On Wednesday, our staff decided to take a random visit to a temple out in Eonyang. It was fine by me; it meant leaving work early and taking in some sites.
We all carpooled to Eonyang, and upon arrival, we made the very pleasant 20 minute walk up to the temple. The purpose of the trip was actually to see the Fall leaves in their colourful splendour, but we were a couple weeks early. Nonetheless, the view was grand, and my co-teacher and I kept going on about how refreshing the air felt away from the city.
We all carpooled to Eonyang, and upon arrival, we made the very pleasant 20 minute walk up to the temple. The purpose of the trip was actually to see the Fall leaves in their colourful splendour, but we were a couple weeks early. Nonetheless, the view was grand, and my co-teacher and I kept going on about how refreshing the air felt away from the city.
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| The beginning to the trail up to the temple. |
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| The walk towards the temple. |
The temple itself was beautiful, though my co-teachers could tell me next to nothing about the temple itself other than the fact that the colours, imagery, and shapes on the buildings had significant meanings. Without context, I just settled on enjoying the view.
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| The main temple area. |
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| Who's that idiot that ruined a perfectly good photo with his face? |
After perusing the area, we headed back down to the entrance and headed off to dinner. Now before I show you where we had dinner, I would just like to point out that it's things like this that still make me take a step back from time to time and say, "Holy crap, I'm in Korea!" Just look at this view as we drove to the restaurant. It kills me that my knees have been acting up, meaning there is no hiking in my immediate future. I want to hike the crap out of Korea.
Our restaurant was pretty freakin' awesome. On the outside it looks like a palace, as seen below...
...and on the inside, it's like a regal cottage!
I'd never been to a Korean BBQ place like this before. When you enter downstairs, you find yourself in a butcher shop where you choose the meat you want to eat. They then bring it upstairs for you to cook. While that process was kinda cool, like choosing which lobster you want to eat for dinner, the upstairs ambiance was ruined by pictures of the butcher shop scattered all over the place. I didn't need to be reminded that just a little while ago my dinner was hanging on hooks downstairs.
The highlight of my night came when this drunken dude started making the rounds to each table offering up soju shots. This guy is a real character. He either doesn't care or doesn't know how loud he is. When he comes to volleyball, he calls "MINE" for every single shot. EVERY SINGLE SHOT! Even if it means diving and almost breaking his neck, he'll still call it! He laughs the loudest, he talks the loudest, and he's a little overbearing for others--I could tell even before one of the teachers told me in the car driving home--but I find the guy entertaining as all hell.
At one point he came over to our table and started talking to me. Or at least, he tried to talk to me. He would apologize profusely about his English and tell me that he wants to talk to me, and then shake his head in embarrassment. When I downed the soju shot he poured me, he put his hands to his mouth, laughed like a giddy school girl, and said, "Oh my God! Oh my God!" over and over again. He was fascinated by me, and I was fascinated with how drunk he was. The rest of the teachers at our table, on the other hand, were clearly annoyed.
At the end of the night, he stood up and made a loud, dramatic, emotional speech of some sort. He was probably rambling on about nonsense, as everybody around him looked rather embarrassed, but from where I was sitting, this dude was professing his love to us all. Oh, and did I mention this was on a Wednesday?
When all was said and done, we went back downstairs and several teachers decided to buy some more meat from the butcher shop to take home with them. I saw my drunken friend and complimented him on his wonderful speech. He then proceeded to buy me bulgogi, which is grilled marinated beef, as a gift. I died of laughter. My co-teacher thinks that he did it because I complimented him on his speech. What a stand-up guy. Have I mentioned that I love my school yet?
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| Pretty waterfall outside the restaurant. |
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