The Open Suitcase: Visit to Suncheon, South Korea

During my orientation week in Gwuangju I went on a field trip with Canadian Connections to the Nakan-eupseong folk village and the Seonamsa temple. Both sites were extremely scenic showcasing the splendor of rural South Korea and its immense historical heritage. But throughout the excursion to the village and temple I was constantly drawn towards the juxtaposition of modernity and tradition which characterizes many of the broader features of South Korean culture.

One gets the sense of this juxtaposition when strolling along Nakan-eupseong's many dirt roads and seeing the vendors on either side selling souvenirs and beverages from the same stone houses their ancestors once occupied. While many of the attendants who collect the tickets and sell the souvenirs live in these stone houses, their daily lives have changed from a concern about agricultural to one concerned with sustaining a viable tourist industry. The major attraction at the village is a 1.41 km long and 4m high protective wall that was original made of sand and built to guard against the threat of the invading Japanese army in 1397. The wall was rebuilt in stone some 300 years later. Today that same wall which was intended to keep foreigners out is the same thing that draws them in.

In addition to the wall there are numerous exhibits scattered throughout the village in workshops, sanctuaries, and court yards. These exhibits all have plaques beside each designated area supplying the relevant historical background. But in place of the villagers of the town there are posed ceramic statues recreating a familiar scene like a priest uttering a prayer or a prisoner receiving a sentenced... forever frozen in time for the next photo op. According to the leaflet I received, Nakan-eupseong "remains just as it was hundreds of years ago."

(Jonah Saifer, Shari Beaver, and Myself - two teachers I met during orientation but who may not share the opinions expressed here)

The Seonamsa temple was a different sort of attraction that was much like visiting a historic church in North America or Europe. On the day we were on the temple grounds there were a number of offerings being made by a group of female spiritual leaders in the weeks approaching the celebration of Buddha’s birthday. Along the path to the temple entrance there were the familiar vendors selling souvenirs but none were actually in the temple. The rampant consumerism that characterized the Nakan-eupseong village was not at all the impression I had of the Seonamsa temple, rather it has remained a place of worship and a sacred ground revered by its patrons.

There were no pictures allowed inside the temple buildings but tourists were not discouraged from entering. Wandering into one of the main temples I spent a long time examining the elaborately painted wall murals, the decorative yellow, red, and turquoise green ceiling beams, the numerous lotus lamps hung from the ceiling, and the three enormous gold statues of Buddha placed on the center altar. Before I knew it there was a sudden rush of women filing into the temple. Within two minutes I was packed in tightly and could not easily get out without forcing a wave of bodies to move around me. A bell was rung and all those present in the room began to bow ten or more times consecutively. They went from standing, to kneeling, to leaning forward, and resting their head against their forearms laid flat against the ground. Silence filled the room as the bowing ceased and the women stood with their palms pressed together in a more familiar prayer gesture. The aroma of incense thickened the air as the women began to chant and pray in unison creating hypnotic melody with their voices. Reflecting on my experience in the Seonamsa temple, I felt as though I had intruded on a moment - treading on the tradition that resonated in that room. Once the procession was over and I could final part from the crowd, I asked one of the Korean guides "was it right for me to be present in the temple during the ceremony?". He smiled and said "you shouldn't have been there but it was an innocent offense like a child talking out during a church service. You didn't know any better."

The Nakan-eupseong village and the Seonamsa temple illustrate the shared interest to include a dialogue with the past. This strange blend of tradition and modern exhibitionism takes place throughout South Korea and reflects a cultural identity that is oriented towards preservation. However, this is not to say that this closeness to its past is merely aesthetic or in complete isolation from the outside world. We in the West often think of Asian culture as static and unchanging in their tributes to the past. They are characterized as a people with a transfixed orientation to myth/legend who have failed to "properly" adopt Western language and culture. Perhaps we are the ones duped by the promise of an authentic Orient formed in the interpretation of its art and cultural relics? The reality is that South Korea and other Asian cultures adapt to change at a rapid pace through their capacity for synthesis. As changes inevitably occur throughout the course of history, these cultures have managed to last for centuries because their model of change is one that continues to resemble itself and does not merely substitute past for future. In South Korea there is the sense that despite the expectations for the future it must honor the remains of its past. It is life in ruins.

Nakan-eupseong (castle) folk village