One Man Dog

The craziest thing just happened to me. I was walking down the sidewalk with Maya and a bus stopped next to us. The door opened, and the driver gave me a thumbs up. This is not unusual. A lot of Koreans like Maya. People often stop and ask us about her in limited English or snap pictures on their phones. Bobby said that a boy said, “like tiger” to him once, and I think that explains it. Korean art is full of images of tigers; maybe Maya is fascinating because her brindle patterning resembles tiger stripes.

Anyways, this guy was persistent. He just inched along with the door open. Finally, he stopped the bus, got out, and said, “one man dog!” I smiled, nodded, and said “yeah.” (I used to try so hard to understand people who were trying to communicate with me, but not so much anymore). He pulled out his phone, made a call, and handed it to me. The person on the other end was his daughter. She told me her father wanted to know if I wanted to “exchange” my dog. I thought perhaps something was lost in translation, so I said, “I'm sorry, I don't understand.” She told me that her father had a Jindo dog and wanted to know if I would to exchange!

I have a friend whom I run into on the mountain sometimes. Her name is Min. She is in her forties, unmarried, and has a boy haircut. She tells me that she is unhappy here and wants to move to Europe or America. Given the pressure to conform I see around me, I'm not surprised that she's eager to leave. I can only imagine how friends and family deal with someone who has the nerve to be different. She tells me she had two dogs that she loved dearly, and both died last year. She buried them on the mountain, as many Koreans do with their family members. She says she does not like the way Koreans feel about dogs, and that her dog's grave is constantly being defaced by someone.

The encounter with the bus driver was one of those bizarre occurrences that I am not sure is unusual. It is certainly the most unusual request I have had, and I can see what Min means when she says Koreans treat dogs differently. There is an eight story animal hospital near Camp Walker, so clearly some Koreans see their pets as family members. Others apparently don't! I wonder how many folks around here exchange their dogs.

A final thought, then I'm done speculating. It's an unfortunate but unavoidable truth that every interaction between two people from different cultures takes on an inflated significance. That guy could have been crazy, but to me, he spoke for all Koreans. I can only imagine what it's like when foreigners come into America and run into some of our weirdos. There are probably folks out there who think that all Americans preach from street corners.

Roadtrippin to Myogol Village

I was just feeling sorry that I haven't really had anything new to blog about when I remembered that I saved one entry for later six months ago.  Time flies!  Anyways, here it is--our trip to Myogol Village.

The weather has been lovely, so we decided it was time to take the car for a spin. I liked the pictures of Myogol Village we had in our Daegu guidebook, so we decided to head west. Since moving here, we have had to learn to live without Google maps. There are internet maps in Korea, of course, but they are in Korean. We carefully consulted our map and gassed up the car, and we were off. It took about half an hour to get out of the city, partially because it is a widespread city and partially because there's a lot of traffic. As soon as we left the buildings of Daegu, we entered downtown Dalseong, another of Korea's not-cities with tall buildings and dense commercial areas.

We finally made it onto the open road. We passed plastic covered farms, which is how Daegu continues to have fresh produce in the winter. We turned off on a tiny road and headed out towards Yukinsa Shrine, which thankfully had English signs. The rural road passed under an ornate entrance and we were suddenly surrounded by traditional Korean houses with wooden latticework and tile roofs. These buildings are beautiful, and I never tire of them. They were surrounded by earthen walls topped with latticework.

We squeezed into the driveway and found ourselves at an old housing compound. The sign on the front told the story in English: This was the Park clan's compound. Park Paeng-nyeon compiled government publications (he was a librarian!) for King Sejong and his son, Munjong. When King Sejo usurped the throne, he fled, plotting with six officers to restore the throne to the rightful heir. The plot was betrayed and Park was imprisoned, where he died. His pregnant daughter in law was sent to Daegu as a slave. When her son was born, she exchanged him with a daughter of a maidservant so he wouldn't be killed. The home we visited was where the servant raised the Park heir in hiding. By the time he came of age, the political climate had shifted again and he was restored to honor. Yukinsa shrine, at the center of the village, is for the slain Park Paeng-nyeon, who remained loyal to the king though it cost him his life. Or so the story goes.

There were orate turtle carvings all over the buildings. We wandered through the shrine and housing compound, then walked through the village. We saw thatch roofed storehouses, gardens, and traditional Korean houses. This is a bit different from the palace compounds we have seen in the past, since some of these houses belonged to (more) regular joes. There were also some beautifully restored traditional houses that were occupied. A very nice guide gave us an English brochure and spoke to us in limited English. I don't think English speaking folks make it out there on our own too often.

We headed back for civilization and one of our favorite restaurants, which is called “Traditional Korean Restaurant,” for sam gyup sal.   

Bobby in front of one of the houses in the compound. 

Stone wall with gate

An ondol heating system.  Shovel in burning coals, vent under floor, voila!

The gateway to the family compound.  This looks like a Japanese gate.

Turtle stela

I recently read about this.  This is a mountain spirit, or san-shin, shrine.  

The lovely gate.

Traditional Korean house.

The road out.  See the cultivated fields on the left?

Monsoon!

Last Wednesday, we were visited by tropical storm Dianmu. The Army, ever cautious, sent us regular updates on Dianmu's progress and told us to secure all outdoor furniture, make sure we have a couple of days worth of water, and turn our freezer to the highest setting. We settled in for a storm. We got...almost nothing. There was some rain. At 3pm, when the storm was supposed to be right over us, it was lightly misting outside.

On the other hand, last night the wind was so rough that I discovered a downed tree on the mountain . Today, Maya and I were out walking when a storm hit. It wasn't one of those occasions where I thought, “it really looks like rain so I'll make it quick,” only to be caught in a storm. This time, it looked like nothing when we left, then got really dark and ominous all of a sudden, and as we were jogging for home the bottom dropped out.

We sought shelter in a picnic shelter, where we were quickly joined by a high school student with decent English. This guy was worth meeting! He is way into Sherlock Holmes. He asked where I was from, then asked if I had ever been to London, Baker Street in particular (I have!) He told me he wants to study psychology in college so that he can be a detective. He asked if my husband was from England, then told me how much he admired the British. I have a touch of Anglophilia myself, so I couldn't really hold this against him. I was incredibly charmed by the whole thing. This kid was profoundly touched by the works of some 19^th century British author. As a librarian, this kind of incident validates me.

Maya, in typical dog fashion, noticed that he was a little nervous of her but was willing to pet her and decided to win him over by getting in his face. When that didn't work, she shook herself all over him. When that didn't work, she got back in his face. (When people love Maya, she'll step up for a good petting, then promptly beg me to move on, having already gained their admiration).

When the storm finally died down, we stepped out into the path, which was now a river, and right into Bobby with an umbrella, who had been searching for us. Maya decided to give him a nice dose of wet dog as well.