세계평화의 종 - The World Peace Bell

Let's break that down:

세계 (se-geh) means "world".

평화 (pyoung-hwa) means "peace".

의 (eh) is a possessive particle.

종 (jong) means "bell".

Fulbrighters and Hwacheon Peace Forum campers at the World Peace Bell. (taken by Ammy)

The World Peace Bell, located in its namesake park in Hwacheon, was cast in 2005 for the 60th anniversary of Liberation Day (August 15th, 1945 -- the end of Japanese colonial rule). The metal in this 37.5-ton Buddhist-style bell was recycled from empty ammunition cartridges from the Korean war and various conflict-ridden regions of the world. This gives the bell a certain special significance in its symbolism of world peace.

Making wishes. Btw, this bell is huge.

During the Hwacheon Peace Forum, we visited the World Peace Bell Park and learned about the bell, the nearby Hwacheon Peace Dam, and a little bit about the hopes of those who created this park. The dream, of course, is peace, but then there's also Reunification (통일/tongil). The top of the World Peace Bell is decorated with pigeons (비둘기, which represent peace, just like doves do; it's worth mentioning that pigeons and doves are in the same bird family). However, one of the pigeons is missing half of one of its wings. The missing piece is being kept with the promise that when North and South Korea are finally reunified, it will be reattached, thus finally completing the bell.

In the style of Buddhist bells, this one is rung by being struck on the outside by a large wooden beam (a battering ram?) The beam is very heavy, and it takes many people to swing it. All of the campers got a chance to strike the bell. The sound it made was very deep and powerful. As soon as it was struck, we were supposed to gather around the bell and place our hands or backs on it to feel the resonance, as well as to make a wish. I rested the back of my head on the bell after I had rung it, and it felt like a nice massage. While I did feel to an extent that the symbolism was a bit tacky, I did learn later that it actually costs about fifty cents for tourists to ring the bell, and each year, all of that money goes toward a full scholarship for one Ethiopian university student to study abroad in Korea, as thanks toward Ethiopia for fighting alongside Korea during the Korean war. I feel much better about that.

HL and SY with an otter (수달), which I believe is Hwacheon County's mascot.

After visiting the bell and watching a short video about the Peace Dam (평화의댐), the camp participants had some time to discuss what we had learned over the past two days and share our thoughts about peace and Korean Reunification. My two student partners, HL and SY, were two bright girls who, despite being good friends, plainly disagreed on whether Reunification would be good or not.

HL, whose father is in the army, was against 통일 because she knew the risks were great: Korea would be plunged into an economic and humanitarian crisis if it suddenly had to take care of millions of refugees from the North. SY, on the other hand, was more idealistic and remained convinced that North Koreans are "our family" and that the current separation was neither tenable nor the desire of most South Koreans. We didn't have enough time to elaborate on these thoughts, but I could tell that both of them had actually thought through their positions, and I appreciated that.

Both did agree, during our discussion, that the conversation about 통일 was likely more often had in Hwacheon than in other parts of the country, due to the county's proximity to the De-Militarized Zone between the North and the South. It seems like the farther away you get from the border, the less people tend to think about the issue. I know it hardly comes up in my life, way down here in Changwon, but it's not hard to see why people who live a mere thirty kilometers away from an enemy state would be more attuned to this dialogue. So, it was no wonder that the students of the Hwacheon Peace Forum, some of whom have participated in the camp several years in a row, were capable of expressing themselves so well about a matter very important to them. I was both impressed and inspired.

That said, I don't have any grand, sweeping conclusions to make about world peace or Korean Reunification. Not yet, at least. I've learned a great deal about this issue over the past few months, and I'd like to get all my thoughts down in writing at some point, so stay tuned.

인절미

A large blob of rice cake in the making.

인절미 (injeolmi) is a traditional Korean snack. (When I say it, it kind of sounds like "Enjoy me!") It is a variety of 떡 (ddeok), or rice cake, that is first pounded into a sticky, glutinous blob before being coated with bean flour and sugar. I've eaten 인절미 often, since rice cakes of all kinds are a common gift for teachers, but there's definitely nothing like eating a fresh batch that you yourself have helped make!

This past weekend, I went up to Hwacheon (화천) to attend the annual Hwacheon Peace Forum, a twenty-four-hour camp that combines an excursion to locations around the DMZ (De-Militarized Zone between North and South Korea) with a language and cultural exchange between Korean students and Americans. On the evening of the first day of the camp, we visited a hanok (한옥) village, a collection of dwellings built in the traditional Korean style that often serve as host to these sorts of camps. The first thing we did there was get the lowdown on how to pound our own 떡.

My student partner HL and me pounding at the 떡. (taken by SY)

Delicious 인절미!

It's not too difficult, really. You grab a giant wooden mallet and swing it down onto the blob of rice. Accuracy and strength are key, but it was a little bit tricky to engage both at the same time. I had a good time pounding away at the 떡-to-be, even though I wasn't doing it very well, but I also realized that our efforts were minimal compared to how much work must have been put into creating the blob in the first place.

Anyway, everyone who wanted to work out their aggression via giant wooden mallet got a chance to do so, and then we coated our rice cakes in the sweet bean powder and started nomming.

Afterward, we had a nice outdoor barbecue dinner and I got to hang out with all of the Korean students and get to know them much better. It was neat how quickly we all became close. All it takes is a few enthusiastic circle/icebreaker games and food, and suddenly you've got tons of new friends. I introduced everyone to Ninja, a favorite from college, and also got really into many rounds of Mafia later in the evening. I'll elaborate on what this Peace Forum was actually about in the next post. To come: the non-touristy DMZ, the World Peace Bell, and otters!

Korean students and American teachers having some fun before dinner.

Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival Pt. 4: The Rest of the Fest

So... you know that willfully-plunging-into-freezing-cold-water thing I wrote about yesterday? Well, I just re-watched Titanic. Having second thoughts about trying it again.

Anyway! Here are some photos from the rest of the Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival, one of CNN's Seven Wonders of Winter! Besides fishing and more badass fishing, there were snow sculptures, ice slides, ice ATV-ing rinks, and a large "Ice Illumination Plaza" with beautiful ice art.

Katelyn on the outdoor ice slides.

Katelyn and me on the little ATVs. There were little kids driving things around pretty recklessly, and there was no need for a waiver form, even! (I mean, this is Korea.) I was driving pretty recklessly, too... but Katelyn was the one who did donuts on the ice! (Taken by Adam)

Lanterns hung along the town's streets.

Giant snow sculptures. Look, it's Snow White! (Get it?)

In the evening, some figure skating performances.

Inside the Ice Illumination Plaza, with dozens of amazing sculptures. Here's a horse from the Chinese Zodiac! (Taken by Ammy)

Ammy on more ice slides. These things are more fun than they look.

A bunch of terra cotta soldiers made of ice.

Katelyn, me, Ammy, Maggie, and Adam at the Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival.

As the day drew to a close, my friends and I all went back to Yuchon, pretty drained but having had a very fun and adventurous time. I'd say that the Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival ranks up there as one of my favorite festivals in Korea so far. Not that I've been to that many, but there was just so much great stuff to do that it kept us entertained and laughing all day long. I was hardly cold, honestly.

But the winter adventures didn't stop there! Next up: a day in Seoul and a skiing trip down south!

Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival Pt. 3: I've Been Colder

So there was this pool of freezing water with fish in it.

Like so.

For about eight bucks (for foreigners), you could have the once-in-a-lifetime experience of wading into the knee-high water and trying to catch fish with your bare hands. I say once-in-a-lifetime because most people only want to do it once.

Did I want to do it? You bet. Adam, Katelyn, Ammy, Maggie, and I all decided to take the plunge together, so to speak. We went into the locker room to change into the uniform of shorts and an orange t-shirt. We were supposed to tuck the t-shirt into our shorts, I soon learned, because the only method of storing fish after catching them was inside the shirt. Suddenly I began having doubts. And then we stepped outside, onto the ice, and I began having more doubts. And then I put my feet in the water and dang, it was cold.

I gave my camera to a bystander. I'm the one in the orange shirt, yelling something incomprehensible.

It was so cold when I stood on the ice that my feet hurt, so I sat down. And then my butt was so cold I couldn't wait to get off of it and into the water. But the water was so cold that my feet instantly went numb. I couldn't feel them after a few seconds, and it was all I could do to stay standing. My feet felt like blocks of ice, and they suddenly seemed very loathe to move where I wanted them to. The whistle blew and everyone was shouting and splashing around, and very soon people began catching fish. But I was just standing, hunched over and peering into the water but unable to see any fish, let alone catch them.

I felt excited, frustrated, and insane all at the same time (that's adrenaline interacting with the "flight" response). Adam and I kept yelling at each other, "WHERE ARE THE FISH? THERE ARE NO FISH!" Neither of us was successful in snagging anything, although Ammy and Katelyn caught one each. I figured out later that the trick was to "corner" fish up against the wall of the pond and then grab them, while I was out wading in the middle of the pond, looking stupid, no doubt.

Getting out of the pool was probably the worst part, because we had to walk on more ice to get to the hot tub that they'd prepared for the participants. I had to hobble over as if I had stumps for feet. But as soon as I warmed up, I was totally fine. It was too bad I didn't catch any fish, but I had an unforgettable experience all the same. (Plus, I'd already caught three from regular ice fishing before.)

Bare-hands ice fishing: this man caught a few fish. They're in his shirt.

Especially great was the fact that this was a shared insane experience with my friends. For the rest of winter, we decided that we were no longer ever eligible to complain of the cold. Whether we be skiing, stuck outside at night, or shoved into freezer naked, we can now say without uncertainty, "I've been colder." Adam insisted that there was a certain thrill to experiencing the most extreme of anything in one's lifetime, and for us, I guess this was the extreme of cold. You know, what, though... I might do it again. It may or may not have been good for our health, but it was a great way to remind ourselves that we're alive, dangit, and still young. Unlike the fish we caught.

Lastly, I need you all to see the excellent photo captured by the bystander to whom Maggie gave her camera, a moment that really tells you what the water felt like upon entering:

Maggie and Ammy begin their bare hands fishing adventure. Courtesy Maggie.

Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival Pt. 2: Sancheoneo

Sancheoneo (산천어/山川魚) is the Korean mountain trout. It's the fish for which we all fished at the Ice Fishing Festival. To make a long story short, I caught three! To make a short story long...

This is a Korean mountain trout, freshly caught!

When Adam, Katelyn, Ammy, and I arrived at the festival, we saw hundreds of people standing on a thickly frozen river, jerking small plastic fishing rods up and down over holes bored into the ice. It looked pretty funny, actually, but a lot of families had brought chairs and snacks and were making a picnic out of it.

We made our way up the river; nearly all of the festival activities were taking place on huge fields of ice. One section of the river was specially reserved for foreigners. We located an English-speaking festival guide to help get us oriented, and then got our gear and headed onto the ice.

As it turns out, ice fishing at this festival is quite simple. Pick a hole, drop your line into it, then wait patiently. If you want, you can jerk your line up and down with your rod to attract more fish, but, as we found out later, our frozen section of the river had already been pre-stocked with hundreds of fish, which made landing one almost a guarantee. It wasn't long before Katelyn made the first catch of the afternoon!

Katelyn caught the first fish!

The next catches came pretty soon after: I caught one, then Ammy caught one, then Adam caught one... it was thrilling in part because it was so easy. No real skill required! Just patience. In fact, after the initial harvest, the fish seemed to learn that there were four murderous foreigners on the ice above them, and nothing bit for the next half hour. I eventually caught two more, for a total of seven among the four of us.

Me, Adam, Ammy, and Katelyn with our bounty from the Ice Fishing Festival.

What did we then do with these fish? We ate them, of course! There were stations, or mini-restaurants, located all along the river where you could have your fish grilled in an oven or made into sashimi (eaten raw). My friends and I, hungry for a late lunch, did both. My lunch was literally trout and soju, nothing else. I will admit that I was very excited to be eating food that I had just caught. Yes, a part of me was squeamish or a bit sad that I had ended the short existence of a beautiful animal unceremoniously by eating it. But it was also a rare experience, I'd say, since I almost never go fishing. If you're going to eat meat, it's best to be as close to the source as possible, to handle killing and cooking it yourself if you can. (This way, you'll be convinced to go vegetarian. Haha, I kid.)

My sancheoneo, made into sashimi! It wasn't bad. Not terribly 맛있다, but it's not a typical sashimi fish, so I'm okay with it. The grilled version was better. (I even ate the eyeball...)

Me and the excitable Korean man. (Taken by Katelyn)

Some odd and inexplicable things happened during lunch. A table of loud, drunk Korean men not too far from us noticed this group of foreigners enjoying their fish, and decided to make our acquaintance. A man from their group came by to our table and motioned for me to go over to theirs. Then, he gave me a small paper cup and announced that we would do shots of soju together. What? I was so confused! And embarrassed. But there was no way for me to refuse, so I did a "love shot" (link arms before downing it) with this complete stranger, who seemed very pleased with himself and then said we'd do another. Soju's alcohol content is about four times greater than that of beer. He also fed me a piece of sashimi... By this time, other men in his group of friends had dragged Adam over to the table for shots, as well. All of us were so amused at this. Nothing like this has ever happened to me, not in Korea or anywhere else! Later, I went to get one of my grilled fish, and when I came back, the man had brought a bowl of live minnows over to our table, and he had just finished feeding them to my friends. Ick. But before I knew what was happening, he caught sight of me, grabbed a minnow, dipped it in red pepper sauce, and put it in my mouth, too. Yeah, so I ate a live minnow (and chased it down with more soju).

This man -- this complete stranger -- was a riot. He thought it was hilarious seeing our reactions to everything, and he must have been very excited to meet foreigners, after all, because he wanted to get a photo with Maggie and me before he left. He also gave us all his business card. And for all of us to just smile, laugh, and go along with everything? That's what it takes to build 정. When we are spontaneously thrust into weird cultural experiences, then, as long as there isn't really anything dangerous that could happen, why not, right? This is part of the job description: engage with Korea personally and build connections, even those fueled by soju. I'm sure the man came away with a more positive view of Americans (even though I didn't keep his card).

The poor things... But I did eat another one later.

Fishing! I can see now why my host brother likes it so much. As for myself, I enjoyed myself on the ice but had yet to steel myself for what was to come: bare hands fishing in freezing water... for next time!

Hey, I caught a fish!

Hwacheon Ice Fishing Festival Pt. 1: Welcome to the Middle of Nowhere

I had a fantastic time in Hwacheon last week at the world-famous Ice Fishing Festival. However, before any of that happened, I had to travel to Hwacheon, and that was a day's worth of adventure in and of itself.

Even though I was only going to be at the festival for a day, I had with me all that I would need for a month of travel, since I was going to be (or am currently) living out of a suitcase until February. My trusty gadget-backpack and my little gray suitcase and I made the four-hour bus ride up to Seoul on the 9th, where I crashed for the night with a Swattie friend (more on that later). The next day, I met up with Tracey and Ammy, two Fulbrighters, as well as Tracey's mother, for lunch, and then accompanied Ammy to a dental clinic for a check-up. The dental clinic turned out to be also a plastic surgery clinic, and while I waited in the posh, five-star-hotel-esque lobby, I glanced through pamphlets and advertisements for the dozens of procedures offered. It was weird. Then, finally, Ammy and I got on the road.

Ammy and the snow-covered train tracks. Both real trains and metro trains use these.

The Seoul Metro system is more extensive than I'd imagined. It's possible to take the turquoise line from the center of the city all the way out to Chuncheon, 45 miles northeast. This is roughly equivalent to riding the BART from San Francisco to Union City or Concord. It takes about two hours and costs less than 3,000₩ (super-cheap!). You could also take the ITX (real trains that run north-south) for a faster and more comfortable ride. Ammy and I went for the metro. It was an odd feeling, being inside a subway car, watching the sun set over a starkly rural scene: mountains, old, crumbly buildings, fields of rice.

Around 6:30pm, we arrived in Chucheon, the capital and largest city of Gangwon Province. I saw about five minutes' worth of the city before we had to hop on a bus headed even farther north (and that five minutes was spent running from the train station to the bus terminal). This bus made its way through  windy, completely darkened roads. I dozed off for a bit, and an hour later, I had absolutely no idea where we were. I checked the GPS on my phone, and it showed that we were on a road with nothing but blank white space on either side. I looked outside and saw one building. Behind it, a field. There were no lights.

Sure enough, we were in Yuchon.

A photo of Yuchon (유촌리) that I took on a different day. Let's see... 파로호느릅마을: Paroho (Lake) Elm Village. 농촌관광일번지: Rural Tourism #1 (?). And I can't figure out the right-hand post at all.

Yuchon is the name of the small village where we would be spending the night. A fellow Fulbrighter, Maggie, lives and teaches in this remote location; hers is by far the most rural placement among us. It's all farms, hills, a handful of buildings, and only one street. Fortunately for us, however, Maggie's host family rents out a dormitory (more like cabin) that they built for the seasonal farming students, and we were encouraged to stay there.

When Ammy and I arrived at Yuchon's only bus stop, we got out and found Maggie, as well as our other Fulbright friends Adam and Katelyn, waiting for us. We had dinner and then spent the rest of the evening playing Contact, eating junk food, talking about movies, and getting psyched for all the fun we were going to have at the Ice Fishing festival the next day.

Looks like college! Snacks, computers, lounging.

I'm going to end this post with a fun fact about Yuchon (and Hwacheon and this entire region in general): there are more soldiers than civilians. Yes, Gangwon Province shares a huge border with North Korea, and more than half of the DMZ is in it. Maggie says that she sees soldiers every day, and that sometimes tanks rumble slowly down the road she walks down to get to school. During the harvest season, the tanks are replaced with tractors. In any case, when real tanks aren't around, the village is still given a sense of a security with fake tanks -- made of concrete -- that overlook it from a hill. When I first passed by them, it was dark, and I didn't even realize that they were fake. But the next morning, we saw them in a new light, and it was just so absurd that we had to take a photo.

Katelyn, Ammy, and Adam with a fake tank. A fank.

That's all! In the next post: ice fishing!