Sunday, September 11, 2016

Beyond the end of the world (4 of 5)

of Gyeongju, giant moles and the theory of chaos

map of South Korea provided by G--gl-, showing our wanderings and bus-hoppings,
from arrival (Vladivostok, Russia) to departure (Osaka, Japan).
This post and the previous one intend to give you a fair idea of what we had a chance to see, experience and enjoy (or not so much) while busing (or buzzing?) through South Korea. Among other things, we faced some daily challenges, ate gorgeous food, slept in exotic settings and tasted a mouthful of the local rain. Needless to say our stay was short (about two weeks in total) and our experience, partial. We used public transportation, tried to live outdoors as much as possible and carried two insanely huge backpacks, one daypack AND a little groceries trolley. It was actually in Chiaksan National Park that we randomly bumped into a backpackers' scale by the rangers' cabin and finally weighed our backpacks. Due to our work schedule back then, we packed at the very last minute, the day before giving our house's keys back and getting on a bus headed to Berlin... We noticed they were (freakin') heavy and assumed they weighed something close to 15 or 17 kg. The scale may have been crooked, but it was sure enough closer to reality than we were: 18 kg for Wallis' backpack and 23 for Futuna's. Ouch! Diz explains dat. It was in Riga when Wallis started to talk about "making a list of non-indispensable items, putting them in a cardboard box and sending them back home so as to ease our shoulders and make the whole thing a bit easier". And there we were, after half the world and over a month on public transportation! But knowing the actual figures of the torture we were self-inflicting somehow made a difference. From that moment, there was no turning back: we started to look at stuff like the solar shower and the 496 pages of the SDL Trados Studio 2015 User Manual*, to name only these, with a mixture of anger and bitterness. Sad but true. But sad. But still true.

this is what we wished we'd look like while backpacking in South Korea and...
So by the time we got to Gyeongju, we were (again!) sweaty, tired, slow-moving and not really integrated in the local atmosphere. You probably know this awkward feeling when you suddenly realize your perception is just an illusion and reality - regardless of what might be hiding behind this delusive concept - is at a comfortable distance. By the time we left the bus station on our way downtown, our Dharma bum attitude was challenged by a couple of traveling monks whose outfit and bundle made us jealous. Fortunately, there were some fat, big, cheap coin lockers at the train station; before thinking twice, we dropped almost everything there in order to be able to explore the city and find a place to camp/stay for the night. The weather forecast kept promising a typhoon, suggesting traveling south and fast would be our only escape. That's when we remembered our dear A. and his sister L.'s advice not to leave South Korea without spending a night at a jimjilbang. "- a what? - a jim-jil-bang! Now, this is such an amazing thing it is hugely popular among both locals and the many tourists/expats from everywhere around the world. It's almost disturbing to think we spent over a week before giving it a try! In case you need a proof, check this blog and do a little g--gl- research: Italian is only one of the many languages to use and document this magic word!

...this is what we actually looked like while backpacking in South Korea (sigh!).
A jimjilbang is basically a spa, the equivalent of a Japanese onsen, with all the basic - and not so basic - facilities to shower, bathe, chill and rest in a hot and humid atmosphere with cold, warm and insanely hot tubs, steam rooms and saunas. As an illustration of the "insanely hot" thing, please find attached a picture of the main sauna at Gyeongju's most iconic jimjilbang: not many of you might be able to read through it, it should nonetheless give you an idea of how "insanely hot" it actually gets! But temperature is not even the main feature: upon entering and paying a small fee (about 10 euros, sometimes less, sometimes more), men and women go two different ways. Customers are given a gown and several towels - blue for men, pink for women - before accessing a locker area where all clothes and belongings are left. Most of your time is then spent naked, all sitting together on wooden stools in a open bathroom hall. The objective there is to get a thorough shower, using loads of soap and small buckets of steaming, natural hot water. Men also shave, spit and clip their finger nails. Women may do the same, but apparently also chat a lot - while the men's quarters are solemnly silent. Once your skin is homogeneously red and wrinckled, you're allowed to walk to the tubs and saunas. You may get a massage, relax on a massage chair (the cheap version) or head to the mixed area to meet your pink (or blue) fellow.

pictures are strictly forbidden inside, so here's the insanely hot spa: from outside ; from a technical point of view ; and from the lobby/sleeping area.
 There you'll find a bar, hot water, instant noodles and different TV screens scattered on the walls of a vast hall where people chill and take a nap. Jimjilbangs are open 24 hours, 7 days a week and access is not limited in time. As long as you pay the entry fee, you can stay as long as you wish. Yes, that means overnight. And yes, that means the next few days too, if you want to and have enough spare coins to feed on noodle soup cups... So basically: for about three or four times less than the cheapest hotel/guesthouse in town, you get to spend whole days in a bathroom amusement park, eating junk food, sleeping on a wooden floor amidst fifty or sixty other people and getting as many hot showers and sauna sessions as your body can handle! Why would you ever get out to a UNESCO world heritage area? Why would you want to go outside and visit a beautiful, rich and vibrant historical city? We did it, though, the next morning.

a rice field straight out of Gyeongju, free of giant moles...
And did well, since Gyeongju is a true gem, full of art, culture, history and food. A gem, first (and not least!), thanks to its central market, where we had breakfast the next morning: the closest-to-divine food we ate in the whole country (if not in our entire lives - bold statement, sure enough exaggerated but does it really matter?). Not only did the fish and groceries look gorgeous, the place was a labyrinth of narrow alleys where fabrics, goods, crafts, sweets and pickled stuff would have taken days to check and taste, be it with the eyes only... At the place we picked to sit and have breakfast, the rules were clear and strict: "Shut up and eat!" The sequence of solid, liquid, hot and cold things being served suffered no intervention. A firm hand is worth one thousand words: "eat this, now drink that, now put some of these in this plate and mix that in this bowl of soup. More! Drink it! Chew that! Here's the egg! More of this, now! Okay, enough! (She was an older, exotic version of Rachel, this catalonian guide/hostess at the most gigantic Cava cellars in the world** who often traumatized "my" US clients when serving them a glass at the end of the tour: if "¿Le gusta? Beba, beba!" is fine in Spanish, her own English translation "You like? You drrrink, you drrrink!" sounded a bit too imperative to the peaceful retired Northern Americans I'd bring there after visiting Montserrat on a bus tour... Rachel was indeed an extremely nice and knowledgeable tour guide and she often gave me a bottle of Cordon negro I then could pass on to the bus driver, which made our professional relationship much smoother. Those were good times...). But let's be fair: tyranny never tasted that nice. And topped up with kimchi straight from the jar, it only got better! Let's be even fairer: that morning, I had the (breakfast) time of my life. Before leaving, we bought some extra meat balls, rice balls, kimchi and some surprise dough stuffed with surprise stuff, all neatly wrapped in furashiki-style. We went out to explore the town and its "historical park", castle, museum, temples and "old" district. We even randomly found -while looking for an internet café to hide from the rain- a big hangar built over an ancient bridge (and consequently over a river), in order to give the workers shelter during the several years of its restoration. Cool, impressive... and very convenient!

the most amazing breakfast ever, only at Gyeongju central market ; last (and bonus) pic: walkers and scooters - morning traffic in the alleys.
The local legend says everybody was used to seeing some giant mole mounds scattered around town, or the area. Everybody was so used to them nobody ever wondered what kind of moles would have dug them. And when. Apparently, the mounds had been there for centuries, and the giant mole had probably entered the local pantheon of extinct animals, next to the saber-toothed tiger and the mammoth. Until some guy some day, back in the twentieth century, decided to shovel one mound out - allegedly to raise some veggie beds someplace else in his backyard. The local legend also says it was a shock when he exhumed the lapida of a king's mausoleum. Only then did the ancients remember the ancient graves from the Three Kingdom era and the magnificent heritage of the city. Well, honestly you never know something until you learn or realize it. And what's right in front of your eyes is sometimes the most challenging to actually see... I know that. Don't get me wrong. But just, you know: you believe in extinct giant moles and there's no evidence of giant hedgehogs? Seriously? Who'd believe that? Uh? Anyway... The weather was progressively changing but we didn't care anymore: our backpacks were safe in a rain-proof locker and a night of infinite hot tubs in heaven was expecting us at the end of one single line of one single local bus. Luxury is so a state of mind!

mole mounds everywhere ; oldest astronomic observatory (looks like oldest brick pagoda, right?) ; hangar over bridge over troubled water.
"let me take you down cause I'm going to Lotus-sy fields forever; nothing is real and nothing to get hung about, lotus-sy fields forever"
this is what we wished we'd look like while walking through the botanical gardens and this is what we actually looked like... deal with it!
We got a shiver in the dark, it was raining in the park but meantime... Saw several mole king mounds, more lotus flowers than anywhere else, the oldest astronomic observatory on earth (sic.), a green tunnel with hanging squash and the couple of errand monks from the bus station (or were they others, but looking the same?), still looking cool and still traveling light. In my next life, I want to be able to live off a 20 liter bundle! Actually, if the world goes on the way it goes, a 20 liter bundle might well be a hell of a lot of material possessions by the time I get into my next life... We went to the national history museum, which happened to be free and to host the oldest and biggest holy bell in the whole country. For those who might be wondering: yes, it was big and old. The mother of all big old bells, indeed! The museum was great: full of archaeological treasures, fascinating facts and figures about the three kingdoms, about the arts, culture, crafts, trade and religions of Korea throughout history. Tools and weapons, jewelry, clothes, toys and even antique stones that were carved to play Go a thousand years aGo... A natural crossroad between China and Japan, Korea received, adapted and refined techniques and skills from both neighbours, exchanged and traded goods with them during centuries, while simultaneously making war(s) and resisting (or not, it depends) influences and invasions, too. Not that Europeans nations haven't been doing the same for ages, though. The Erasmus student exchange program provided beautiful opportunities to understand each other and enrich mutually, but our own cultural melting-pot was not always that peaceful. And its future may not be as easy and friendly, if others follow the Brexit example...

a neat collection of stone axes ; a bunch of pocket deities ; a set of Go stones with an actual "the board is a reproduction" sign! really?
The rain outside helped us a bit to complete the visit of the whole collection. We then took advantage of an éclaircie to go back and get lost in the small streets of an old-fashioned, half forgotten district of rusty workshops and dusty houses in the early stages of gentrification. Selfie time for the record and on we went... Walked by an attractive and inviting love hotel, that would have gotten all our attention only 24 hours earlier. But after trying the jimjilbang, who'd miss a chance to repeat the adventure? A night of hot baths, instant noodles and a wooden floor shared with a crowd of strangers: who wouldn't sign up and enroll? The early bus ride back in town the next morning got longer BUT much more picturesque after we got on on the wrong side of the road and ended up at a shopping mall and convention center in the opposite direction. A good opportunity to spot birds and count raindrops on the window... The classic Lost in translation effect. Seriously: re-watch the movie and observe how beautifully Sofia Coppolla pictured the two main characters separated from their environment by transparent surfaces: at the swimming-pool, the bar, on the bus: reality is always on the other side, they can't connect to it. A beautiful movie, really. A great director. And before Scarlett J. started to do Sci-Fi/Action crap. 2017 will have its calamities, be sure Ghost in the Shell, the movie will be one of 'em!

the Romance motel: an appealing love hotel in its pinkiest, most rococo outfit!

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interlude:
a night at the jimjilbang
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On our way to the station the next day, we struggled to find back a tiny restaurant in a backstreet nearby and treated ourselves with some spicy meat buns: some sort of super yummy, local Chinese bread we had tried randomly the day before. The owners, a young and smiling couple, recognized us and were happy we chose to come back, very enthusiastic and very hungry. I could almost say they frotted their hands when they saw us in... At the station, after checking the timetable for the local trains bound to Busan, we struggled with our luggage for a little while, desperately trying to put everything back in order in the backpacks, while trying (at the same time) to please the officer who repeatedly "asked" us to move (in a language we obviously didn't know a single word of, but with great efforts to make himself understood). He pushed us away from the locker doors, out of the way, away from the ticket machines and finally out of sight. It takes more to stress us out and our legendary organization skills worked wonders... Where is the sarcasm tag? Even if you're non-Korean, non-Japanese, and consequently less sensitive to the idea of public shame, packing in the middle of a train station where somebody actively intends to make you feel uncomfortable and clumsy is a tough moment. A Netflix character would have told us: "Get your shit together. Now". He just kept pointing out how completely and hopelessly we had failed to maintain an acceptable degree of dignity and control over our lives. And that's when we met this couple of Spanish citizens in their fifties, who were eager to speak their language and to complain about "how difficult it was to travel this country" in spite of "their Asian courtesy and highly educated manners". They shared their wisest insights with us: it was sure enough "a cultural trait of their religion" , being "shy but hard-working" and more gems of those about "Asian people" - which is pretty much like saying Europeans eat cheese with garlic and drink wine while listening to Rossini's William Tell...
last selfie before leaving ; last call for passengers, with the good old "la vache qui rit" effect ; and on the train: last stop before Busan.
Anyway. With the wound of the humiliating moment still fresh in our flesh, this piece of small talk in Spanish was soothing, be it to hear vaguely racist clichés. Our new friends had just arrived and we assured them they would loooooove Gyeongju! We mentioned the museum as a must-do, which they apparently planned to visit already. And before heading to the platform, we also suggested they shouldn't miss the (breakfast) time of their lives at the central market, had they a chance to - which they seemed to consider a terrible idea and a very unlikely option. After all, why would you do that when most international hotels serve a continental breakfast buffet, even in the remote and mysterious Asia? Oh, the people you'll meet!
Can't show more than that: blue gown for him, pink gown for her. Easy!
As for our first, last and only train experience in the country: it was neat, right on time, air-cond' chilled, surgical-grade aseptic and... absolutely boring.
1- conclusion: in Korea, make buses, not trains: it's more fun, it's cheaper and it'll take you farther!
2- epilogue: it was already dark when we finally got to Busan and it all started with a little bit of stress  (again?): the train station we decided to stop at didn't have any locker, so it took half the team a one-hour round trip to the central one to go drop the two backpacks before we could finally follow a hand-drawn map to the closest jimjilbang (is it becoming an obsession?). We got lost and found, then lost again between skyscrapers, malls and broad avenues. After the National Parks and "historic cities" of Andong and Gyeongju, Busan, its 3.6 million inhabitants and nightlife looked like a futurist megalopolis to us (which it pretty much is, actually). Neon signs, heavy traffic, restaurants and clubs everywhere around. We finally spotted and recognized by chance the logo of our oasis for the night on top of a huge building a few blocks away and navigated to it (through them) as fast as we could. It was built on the 12th, 13th and 14th floors, one being for men, another one for women and the last one, for the common area. Two different men only and women only lifts could take only to the relevant floors. Let's not waste time on technical details: time to bathe! Of course, this urge to immerse in a hot tub was only to make sure this episode would end on a positive note: the absolute bliss of a late-at-night spa! And we'll keep Busan for the next (and possibly last) South Korean episode... Good night!

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* Trados Studio is one of the (if not THE) professional softwares available for assisted translation currently on the market. It's not cheap but this is nothing compared to how un-friendly, deep and complex it soon gets to the beginner user. As it apparently always happens with User Manuals, this one is very heavy and not that accessible. And using it at a "for dummies" level is like using Photoshop to crop some holidays pictures: both sad and challenging...


** About this gigantic and world famous Cava (a.k.a. Catalonian champaign) cellar and brand, their average production in this ONE (the only one) factory by the time I used to take my tourists there was about 120 million bottles A YEAR. They used to say their annual production in this ONE site was more than the whole production of champaign in France - a fact I never checked, because it seemed too plausible to even doubt it, especially coming from those who stole the technology known as "méthode champenoise" in the late 1870's and started to produce a local copy for their elites and bourgeoisie of the Belle Époque!


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