A Tour of Andong

My school employees 5 teachers, all of whom are Korean. I don’t know the math teachers’ name, but Teacher Gum, Teacher Young and Teacher Kim I see regularly and occasionally eat with in the break room. They’ve all been really friendly and inviting, but we’ve never spent time together outside of work. Teacher Kim had mentioned wanting to go on a bus tour of Andong, so I took her up on the offer and went earlier this month.

Quick note, calling a teacher, ‘Teacher so-and-so’ is a sign of respect. Mr. Shin calls to all Korean teachers by his/her title, so I’ve taken his lead and do the same. He doesn’t refer to me this way, probably because he knows that’s a little weird, but whenever a teacher refers to me, it’s always as Teacher Alex. It’s like addressing a priest with Father, you would never not do so.

I go by Alex here because Alexis is a tricky name to say, the ‘x’ and ‘s’ right next to each other is difficult to pronounce even for a native speaker, so I am Teacher Alex. Often times my students will shorten it to Teacher, and I have a few kids who just call me Alex and giggle.

Back to the tour, so Teacher Kim and I agreed to meet in front of the Andong bus station on Sunday morning. Whenever we don’t have students around I call her by the English name she acquired while studying in Canada, Lindsay. As an added bonus, Lindsay’s mother joined us and it was oh so great!

Lindsay is an only-child, like many Koreans, and her father passed away nearly 10 years ago, so she stepped up and looks after her mother now. Her mom, whose name I never did catch, is an uber cute woman and super friendly. She doesn't speak a lick of English, and my limited offensive Korean hardly seemed appropriate, but we quickly became best o' friends. Her mom has a physical handicap called hyphosis, but the likelihood of anyone knowing what that is is slim, so I’ll venture into the politically incorrect arena for a time and just say hunch back.

**Funny side note, when I first wrote this part of the blog, I incorrectly called it a hump back and was unable to google any official diagnosis unrelated to whales, so originally this passage read like:

and for the life of me I can’t seem to find a politically correct way to say ‘hump back,’ and feel really bad about that, but it’s in the middle of the night and Sheena’s asleep and I don’t know who else I would ask such questions.

Well my yia-yia is also shorter than I, and I haven’t had the opportunity to be affectionate with her since I moved, so I just dolled it out on this little yia-yia (lovingly called azuma.) Luckily she was game and reciprocated all the love and affection I felt for her.

When Lindsay invited me on the tour, I figured it would last a few hours, so you can imagine my surprised to learn it was 8 hours long! Who would have thought there was that much to see in Andong! The tour was entirely in Korean, so Lindsay served as my translator, when we weren’t chatting it up ourselves.

Our first stop was over the Andong River, through a village and into the folk museum.

Apparently Andong is the largest state of Korea, though not all the land can be cultivated because it’s so mountainous. The village we walked through is the site for many Korean television drama shows, but not having watched any, I didn’t experience the same aw I did when I saw the sites of Harry Potter in England.

The folk museum was based on how Koreans had lived their lives prior to industrialization. There were displays of wedding dresses and hair decorations, traditional weaving and men’s hats, pretty much anything that was uniquely Korean. One of my favorite displays was a rock pregnant women went to worship in the hope of having a male child. I couldn’t help it, I had to take a picture. I mean, really? A gigantic wiener rock? Where else will I find this?

Every exhibit had a Korean, English and Japanese description, and there was another tour guild for the Japanese gentlemen who joined us. It was quite the international fest.

Speaking of international splendour, Lindsay informed me she will be moving to Canada next month to marry her betrothed. So she’s Korean, and he’s Persian (from Iran) and they will establish their matrimony in Canada. You just gotta adore that love story.

After the museum we went to the surrounding country and took a tour of an ancient school. It seemed more like a temple than a school, but I suppose the two are synonymous here. The school was located between a river and a mountain, and it was oh so sweet to smell the freshness of dirt and pine trees. Besides being a place full of peace, I also got some lovely photos.

The bus route twisted and turned on narrow dirt roads reminded me of the harrowing bus ventures in Greece, and that combined with my unfettered motion sickness made it an interesting journey. I just focused on keeping down my hearty breakfast, an orange and banana bought fresh from the fruit vendor I’ve been favoring lately, and looked straight ahead. Lindsay noticed the cold sweat I had broken into and commented that she was surprised to learn that anything frightened me. I didn’t bother to correct her, but quickly ate the snickers bar she offered me, and rather obscenely I should add.

The next stop was definitely one of the highlights... lunch! Lindsay’s sweet mom wanted to treat me, and remembering my Greek upbringing, I knew that not accepting would be an insult, so bring it on! And we had one of the most delectable dishes I’ve ever had. Period. It’s an Andong specialty called Jimdak, and makes my mouth water just thinking about it. It’s a spicy chicken dish mixed with rice noodles, peppers, lettuce, and countless other ingredients I’m completely ignorant about. I’m still an utter novice with Korean chopsticks. I tell you, I used to think I could handle chopstick more or less okay, but make them a little thinner, and metal, and I may as well be one of my parents trying to coax the food into my mouth. Seeing my struggle both Lindsay and her mom said it’s okay if I ate this delicious meal with my hands. What a relief.

Half way through the meal, Lindsay’s mama asked me if I drink alcohol. As a general rule I don’t, not because I’m a prude, because I’m a wimp, but it was clear she wanted some and was looking to me to be her excuse. Well, considering she missed church to come on this tour with us (apparently she never misses church) I felt compelled to say yes, so we got a vat of some kind of rice wine. It was strong and not all that pleasant, but again, remembering my Greek heritage, I felt obliged to drink at least one cup with my hosts. It was oddly intense and subtle and the same time, sweet and bitter. And as foreign as the experience was, it was also a familiar ritual I’ve participated in countless times, which made it especially welcoming.

After the rich meal, we stumbled to bus and made our way to the ancient village of Hawhei. Throughout Korea there’s the symbol of a wooden mask, kinda like a mascot. Its origins are traced to Andong, to the village of Hawhei. Andong is often referred to as the spirit of Korea, rich with cultural history and tradition. The mask is used in a traditional dance that tells the tale of Korean society.

The Mask Dance was fabulous! It was a really inviting storytelling process, and although entirely in Korean, I experienced the same emotions as my fellow Korean watchers. It was performed in an open-air theatre, and besides a few white people, there was an entire school of Japanese students. An ensemble of percussionists, and some sort of screeching trumpet, supplied the music. The dancers represented a person or group of pre-industrialized Korea. There were farmers of crops and animals, the slaying of a cow (that peed on the audience), the town fool, a beggar woman, and the aristocrats of the village. I was surprised by how funny it was, I laughed harder than I thought possible. When the beggar woman was asking for money, she refused coins, only bills. This amused everyone.

After the dance we walked about Hawhei village. In the beginning I got lost amongst the myriad of totems, which are remarkable by themselves, but then add the countless renditions of penises, and I was in a photographers heaven! If you look close, even this bloke has a penis for a nose!

Getting my fill of totem shots, we meandered about this 600 year old village, taking in the historical buildings, some of which still have residents. We saw schools and farmhouses, servant’s quarters and the like. The city was surrounded by a river, which is what Hawhei means in Chinese. When Hawhei was at it’s peak, it was under Chinese rule, hence the Chinese influence. This village was particularly wealthy and it was thought that the source of this prosperity came from the central tree in town. We made our way to pay respects to this tree. There is a custom to write your desire or dream on a piece of white rice paper, then attach it either to the tree itself or the fence surrounding the tree. Naturally, I participated, but I’m not sure about the details, so I’m not going to tell you what I wished for, you know, just in case...

The walk about the village was really pleasant. It was a nice sunny day with a cool breeze. On the outside of the town was a grove of trees that were refreshing to see. When we walked down the steep slope to the sandy beach, I grabbed azuma’s hand as an instinct. Lindsay was pleased that we had already become friends. We played on the beach some, and returned to the bus for our final destination.

It turns out there’s a cliff that looks over Hawhei. We hiked to the top of it to see a complete different perspective of where we'd just been. It was invigorating to hike again, but I was worried for my new azuma friend. My worries where misplaces however, she carried herself like a champ.

When we got to the top, the guide was speaking more Korean gibberish, so I took it upon myself to get a few of the photos I wanted, which required me to lie on my stomach at the edge of the cliff. No one knew my demean (animal soul) is actually a goat, so there was a lot of needless anxious waving of the hands, but I let them do what they had to so I could get the shots I had to get. When I returned to the group, I swatted the dirt off my hoodie and looked questioningly to everyone, and you were worried? HA! We made our decent back to the bus and away from the country.

This was the first time Lindsay and I met outside work and it was great. Her fiancé called while we were walking and spoke to me. He apologizing we never got to meet each other when he came for Christmas, but made sure to say I am always welcome to Canada if my travels bring me their way. He seems a fine man, and although I’m theoretically tolerant of people and their religious beliefs, I was relieved to learn he isn’t Muslim, and so I heartily give my stamp of approval!

I learned a few things about the school and Mr. Shin from Lindsay that are useful to know. In addition, I learned Mr. Shin likes me, which I would have more or less surmised, it’s just trixy trying to read him, though I imagine I'm just as foreign to him as he is to me. I had made a commitment not to worry about things I have no control over, such as, what does Mr. Shin think of me? But it's always nice to be well received. I guess he told Lindsay that I’m a fine teacher, bla bla bla, but what was particularly reassuring to hear was that he thinks I have a warm heart. Aww, my own little warm fuzzy! I was a little surprised by that and Lindsay mentioned not many strangers holds her mothers’ hand and directly asks her questions despite a language barrier. So, mom, dad, nouna, Kristen, you done somethin’ right, because my boss says I'm warm hearted and my new friend agrees, and I’m stickin to that story!