Chuseok (추석)

On Friday afternoon, after my classes finished, I got on a bus to Gwanju and from there, with only minimal confusion, traveled another hour to Jeongyup, the town where Rachel lives. She met me in the small bus terminal, and her host father (whom she calls by the Korean name for brother-in-law) came and drove us to the apartment. There her host mother (whom she calls onni, or sister in Korean) asked me if I was hungry, but I said no, since I was only a little hungry, suspecting they'd give me food anyway. And sure enough, Rachel's onni brought out some grapes, persimmon and pear (which is huge and round and less grainy in texture than American pears). We chatted with Rachel's host parents until about 11 and then got to bed. Rachel's host father is an English teacher at her school and speaks English well. Her host mother is a geography teacher at an Elementary school, and speaks a lot less English, but enough to be pretty funny. One of Rachel's host brothers hid in his room for most of the evening, though he emerged as a blanket-wrapped worm at one point, then came out with a shirt over his head, and then finally sat with us uncovered. Apparently he's shy.

Rachel and I hiked Soraebang the next day, one of nine peaks in the national park near Jeongyup. We bused out to the park, and there we met a university student who spoke pretty good English and helped us find our way to the trail head. Since she was there by herself, she accompanied us on our hike. The woman at the tourist information building recommended Soraebang. She said it was the easiest hike and would take about two hours one way, which was about the amount of time that we wanted to spend hiking.

It turned out that we missed her directions and though we made it to Soraebang alright, we realized on the way back that we'd taken the more difficult trail up. The trail was pretty steep, and pretty rocky. At one point we had to actually pull ourselves up a short rock face with a rope that was there. I actually found it a relief to be forced to use different muscles, even though it was a little scary. After that we edged our way up to a small peak. The view was beautiful of course. We could see Jeongyup, and the other eight peaks ranged around us, sort of like the fingers of a cupped hand . An old man, in typical Korean hiking gear, popped up on the ridge across from us and startled us a bit. Then his cell phone rang, so loud and clear it sounded like it was right next to us.

There was another ridge above us, and when we decided to ascend we found, according to a large sign, that this was actually Soraebang. It wasn't that much higher than our first resting spot but the view was a bit improved. Rachel climbed up to the very highest point, basically a large boulder a few meters above where I was standing. We saw a few birds, including something that looked like a kestrel, and I watched a dragonfly buzz way up over Rachel's head, making me wonder how high they can fly before the wind sweeps them away. I took some pictures, which I hope will turn out well and maybe I'll be able to put them on this site.

I was only planning to stay in Jeongyup until Saturday evening, but Rachel's host parents heard she really likes dakalbi, a meal of spicy chicken ribs, cabbage and rice cake that Chuncheon (the location of our orientation) is famous for, and wanted to take us to a dakalbi restaurant in town, to compare. Incidentally, they also wanted to introduce (or so they thought) Rachel to soju. So I decided to extend my visit until Sunday morning.

While we were waiting to go out to eat, Rachel suggested giving me a tarot card reading. We went outside the apartment building and sat down under one of the pagoda shelters in the nearby playground. I guess we should have expected it, but both of us seemed surprised when we were instantly surrounded on all sides by intent children of all ages. Only slightly fazed, we continued with the reading. It was pretty optimistic. The first card I drew, apparently emblematic of myself, was Courage. The rest of the cards seemed to follow the themes of friendship, and seeing through illusions. The crowd of children followed us back to the apartment building, and wanted to know where Rachel lived. She was reluctant to tell them, and told them to go on out, but one little girl dashed in and read the selected floor number before our elevator closed, and ran back to the group triumphantly announcing it.

Around 7:30 we headed out to the restaurant with Rachel's host parents. The dakalbi was good, despite the difference from the Chuncheon version (this version had less rice cakes, added fish cakes, and even some ramen noodles mixed in on the skillet). A great moment was when I realized that Rachel had introduced her host family to the term food baby (the protrusion of the stomach caused by being very full) and both of her host parents used it casually a couple times. (Rachel actually used the term to my host mother when she visited Suncheon the weekend before, and as I laughed uncontrollably, my host mother looked at her in surprise, and said, "You really think that?" apparently wondering if Rachel was actually under the impression that she was going to give birth).

After dinner Rachel took us by her friend's cafe. Brian is a Korean man who Rachel met recently. He spent a year in Australia and seems pretty fluent in English. He also breeds canaries, and showed some to us, as well as a pair of really beautiful finches. It was the first time Rachel's host parents had been there, and I sense a familiar, slightly awkward atmosphere of a young person introducing her parents to her hang-out spot and a friend they've never met. But Brian and the host parents seemed to hit it off pretty well. For a short period of time, Rachel and I both sat more or less staring into space while the three of them conversed in Korean.

I managed to get up pretty early on Sunday morning, and despite the fact that my Korean bank's ATM machine swallowed my card on my first ever attempt to use one (the repairman was lightning fast in arriving) I was sitting on a Gwanju bound bus by 8:30 am. Apparently I managed to dodge the Chuseok traffic because I made it back to Suncheon in pretty good time. There I gave my host family my Chuseok gift, a box of canned pineapple, took a shower and ended up taking a nap for way too long. It was a pretty laid back, fun weekend with Rachel, and emotionally refreshing in some ways, but I think that hike made quite an impression on my legs.

Sunday night I went with my family to a dinner at my host mother's aunt's house. It was a barbeque, and they were actually cooking bulgogi on a charcoal grill outside. I had a good time, though no one really spoke English most of the night. I've expanded my ability of comprehending Korean a little bit. Here's a short script of what I imagined a certain conversation to be.

Mrs. Lee's brother: (to his wife, gesturing in my direction) Speak to her in English!

Mrs. Lee's brother's wife: (slightly exasperated) Why don't you?

Mrs. Lee's cousin: (humorously) If we speak Korean instead of English, she'll learn Korean faster!

Me: He thinks that if you speak Korean I'll learn Korean faster.

Shortlived awe, which segued into a discussion amongst the family of "body-language." It is interesting how much you can pick up based on body-language and knowing a few words in Korean, like for instance, the word for the Korean language, and "quickly." Unfortunately this weekend I found that this "skill," though useful for figuring out what they're saying when I know they're discussing me, doesn't really work on Korean television (though I have faith that the Chuseok special sketch comedy show running continuously for both days really was hilarious).

Chuseok was mostly joining my host father's family for meals yesterday and today, and watching a fair amount of Korean television. It's tradition to visit the graves of your family members, but I think that's maybe less prevalent nowadays, though it's still popular enough to cause traffic jams around cemeteries. (Another interesting thing is that Korean graves have a large round mound on top. The excess earth after the coffin is buried. Where do we put the dirt from our graves? My host mother thinks that flat American graves are strange, and now that I think about it, I do, too).

Monday I helped make seongpyon, a type of rice cake that everyone makes during Chuseok. You take a ball of rice flour dough and poke it into a little bowl shape, which you pour a spoonful of sesame seeds and sugar into, and then pinch the edges shut, making a half-moon shaped sort of dumpling. These are then steamed and the rice dough becomes firm and chewy and the sugar melts and it's pretty tasty. Though I managed to explode not one but two of these on myself. I guess some kind of pressure can build up when they're cooked, because I splattered myself with liquid sugar the first time I bit into one. I thought I'd figured out how to safely eat them, only to rupture another, this time not getting myself messy but hitting Mrs. Lee's sister-in-law. She wiped off her bare arm without a second glance, so I could almost imagine that both embarassing incidents had gone unnoticed. Until later, as I picked up from their gestures and a couple words, I noticed Mrs. Lee and her two sister's-in-law discussing it.

Tonight, after spending most of the holiday at Mr. Lee's parent's apartment, we visited Mrs. Lee's parent's home, in a more rural area about twenty minutes from our apartment. It seems that during Chuseok, or maybe in general, more time and attention is given to the husband's side of the family. The wives do most of the Chuseok cooking at their in-laws home, and it seems that they don't spend as much time visiting their parents. But maybe that was just this family's case. Eating dinner with Mrs. Lee's parents and relatives was pretty similar to the other meals with Mr. Lee's parents, but I think what was uniquely enjoyable was when Mrs. Lee's uncle (or brother?) attempted to instruct me how to sit cross-legged.

Meals are often eaten on the floor here, and most Koreans I've met seem as comfortable, if not more comfortable, sitting on the floor than in a chair. I find it pretty difficult to sit cross-legged and people notice. But this was the first time someone had tried to specifically instruct me on how, and I welcomed it. After showing me how to place my legs, the relative, who could speak English and is actually visiting Georgetown University next month as a visiting researcher, told me that this was the most healthy stance to sit in, and that it was Buddha's stance. Sure enough, maybe it was due to some practice, but I was sitting comfortably crosslegged for a number of minutes, my back feeling very straight. I sort of wished I had a camera, as I sat side-by-side with this man, and he showed me how to make the Buddha's hand-sign with my fingers, the backs of my wrists resting on my knees. (Like an "O.K." signal, but the middle finger joining the index placed at the thumb, and the ring finger and pinky slightly curled forward). Maybe it was a little sacriligeous. Mrs. Lee's family happens to be Christian.

Chuseok was occasionally boring, but I enjoyed meeting the extended family and I feel like I bonded a bit more with my host family as well. I don't see Mr. Lee or Seo-In, the high schooler, very much at all, since Mr. Lee works in Gwanju all week and Seo-In's schedule takes her to school before I get up and home after I go to sleep. So the holiday was an opportunity to interact with both of them a little bit more. (Even though it involved everyone laughing good-naturedly at my attempts to make seongpyon.) Actually the holiday reminded me a lot of family holiday get-togethers in the States--big meals together and laughter and talking and the kids lounging around between meals reading or watching TV. All of the extended family was very welcoming to me as well, especially the grandmothers. So even though it wasn't my family and I couldn't really speak the language, it felt sort of familiar and comfortable to me.

This afternoon, between breakfast at Mr. Lee's parent's and lunch at Mr. Lee's parent's, I gave Sarah, my friend from Reed a call. It was nice to talk to a friend from home, and maybe a little needed. I've been feeling a little out of touch. With myself maybe. Here it's easy to feel like you're starting over completely, because no one here knows you like your friends and family do, and some people, because of the language barrier, will probably never know you very well. So I sort of felt a need to return to that earlier place, remember that I also exist to other people who I can't see right now, and that they exist. I've barely talked to friends from home at all since I got here, so it was nice.