A Relic Of The Past

Trip to Buyeo
Part 1

The morning is a powerful time. The few true mornings I experience are teeming with wide-eyed energy and hunger (for food and for adventure). Its significance is multifaceted, representing new life, being reborn, and therefore a plethora of possibilities and opportunities. This crisp, autumn Korean morning I enjoyed on a bus. The lingering Halloween party was still ripe in my mind. During the early morning I cloudily drifted into sleep with a Waldo, rock star, mummy, and a whole array of other blurred costumes floating about. Combined with a full moon, portentous dreams, and slow murmurs in the next room, it took a while for any rationalization. But it came. It was time to catch the morning bus. I descended the side stairwell and could finally see the view that had been previously obscured by the dark. Rice fields as far as I could see. Right then I knew I was far from home.
I’ve always found the bumpy bus rides comforting, like the metaphorical hand rocking me to sleep, carrying me home safely in its warm palm. And sure enough, I made it home. But that’s not where this adventure ended. Like a fortuneteller I thought, “In the morning I don’t know where I’ll go, in the evening I won’t know where I’ll stay.” I put this omen in my pocket, and packed my day bag. For food, I packed a vegetarian delight-salad, pumpkin seeds, mandarins, and chocolate. I also brought the obligatory book, iPod, and journal. Again, I sat in that warm palm to the downtown bus terminal. I pulled the omen out of my pocket, and my Lonely Planet book out of my bag. I sat dazedly gazing at the schedule and my book, reading about this place and that one. Meanwhile I was matching the cities to see when the desired bus was leaving. Like a determined mathematician, my algorithm happily proved functional. The input keywords were “daytrip,” “historical,” “natural,” and “quaint.” The output was Buyeo. Buyeo is a city in the Chungnam province about 2 hours southwest of Cheonan, my town. It was Korea’s old capital, rich with history, and currently housing a mere 80,000 people. 7,700 won later I was curled up in the halfway-reclined seat, continuing the ever-elusive dream from the morning.
Waking up at a destination is always disorienting, and mumbles in an unintelligible tongue doesn’t do much to clear up the confusion. I followed everyone off the bus, stopped off in the bathroom, and slowly regained consciousness. I didn’t plan this far, but at the same time that was part of the plan. In that sense the plan was at a standstill, but still going as planned.
Lonely Planet provides a simple map of the city, and from that I oriented myself. A statue was marked on the map just a few blocks away. So were the main market area, Statue Park, the fortress, the river, and a battlefield in the opposite direction. All of these landmarks loomed in my future. I formulated a route, using my proven math skills, and headed to Statue Park.
As I ambled down the winding roads, I opened my receptors and accepted all the stimuli around me. Worn and tethered Korean women kneel on the ground, skinning radishes and peeling garlic, rendering their veggies more consumer friendly. Food vendors busily manage their selection of takpuki (spicy rice cakes), fish on a stick, and steamed silkworm larvae. Younger Koreans trot, cell phone in hand, sporting the latest fashions-colorful sportswear. The rugged Korean streets give off the familiar scent of dead fish and forgotten trash. The exterior of the buildings reflect the smell, but it all adds to the town’s character. The sparse ultramodern hotels reveal a sharp contrast.
This is a two part post. Part 2 will be posted soon.


My School