Sunday, July 13, 2003
MOUNTAINS, TAN’GUN AND KOREAN CIVIL SOCIETY. One of the reasons I went back to Kanghwa Island was to hike Mani-san (a.k.a Marisan, or Mt. Mani/Mari). I wanted to hike it because it sounded like a good day hike and because of its reputed connections with Tan’gun, the mythical father/founder of Korea. While waiting for the bus that would take me to the base of the mountain, I encountered one Kang San-hae (not his real name but he chose it as a nickname (means River-Mountain-Sea) to express his favorite hobbies). Mr. Kang has traveled much of the world in search of mountains to climb and things to see: everything from the Grand Canyon to Kilimanjaro. Another thing he likes to do is visit restaurants in Korea and post menus and other pertinent information on his webpage (for an example, see here). I probably read too much into encounters like this, but I couldn’t help but think that this is an example of civil society in action. Here is a guy who spends time and money doing what he loves, connecting with other like-minded folks. No government told him to do it; as far as I can tell, no government is involved. Could Mr. Kang’s hiking-loving counterpart in North Korea do the same thing? Probably not.
Being the typically generous Korean he was, Mr. Kang took it upon himself to be my guide for the hike. He paid the admission fee, bought me a can of Aloe tea (weird tasting stuff) at the summit, directed me where to take pictures, and bought me lunch before we parted ways. My increasingly aggressive attempts to pay at least my own way if not for both of us were thwarted in typical Korean fashion—he literally pushed me out of the way at the cash register at the restaurant.
As we started from the bus stop towards the mountain, a young couple seemed to know where they were going, so we followed them. The male proceeded to give a running commentary of the hike and answer my questions about the mountain, Tan’gun etc. He noted that there was a little-known colony of Tan’gun worshippers just off of the beaten path and offered to take us there. It turns out he knew so much about the colony, Tan’gun, the mountain etc. because he was a strong believer in the divinity of Tan’gun, his father (Ch’i-u) and his father (Hwan-in). He introduced us to some of the folks who lived on the mountain in a small collection of houses surrounded by gardens. They shared fruit—grapes, apples, ch’amoe (a yellowish-white nearly tasteless mellon—and showed me the works of their founder. They even allowed me to visit their shrine on the mountain: a small hall with the images of the three deities (Tan’gun, his father and grandfather) flanked by 21 other figures of national importance, everyone from the Koguryô general Ûlchimundok to the 20th century historian Shin Ch’ae-ho (with the group’s founder respectfully off in the corner). Here was the fusion of religion and nationalism. The earnest young man who led us here proceeded to say a very nice prayer for us and we were on our way.
Some of the descriptions of the trail up Manisan make it sound as if it is an easy hike. It isn’t terribly long but it is quite steep. One trail has steps but they are far taller than the average stairs and are, therefore, quite a strain to go up. Fortunately we were warned and took an alternate route (and took the stairs down). The hiking outfits I remember from years back: heavy boots, snowflake-emblazoned socks, vests, ice-picks etc. seem to have given way to sleek black outfits. Of course, many simply hiked in whatever they happened to walk out of the house wearing. Whatever the case, most of the Korean hikers seemed to be laboring (and sweating) far less than this large Western barbarian was.
At the top was a stone altar of sorts reputed to have been used/constructed by Tan’gun himself. An enterprising old couple had carried up bags of cans of tea and other drinks on their backs and were selling them to the thirsty crowd (the source of my Aloe tea). The view over the surrounding islands, off into the Yellow Sea and North to the forbidden DPRK was nice if rather hazy. One thing I noticed on this entire Kanghwa trip was the almost complete absence of wildlife. Saw a couple of cranes in rice fields but other than that, almost nothing in the way of birds, squirrels etc. Not sure what this means.
Being the typically generous Korean he was, Mr. Kang took it upon himself to be my guide for the hike. He paid the admission fee, bought me a can of Aloe tea (weird tasting stuff) at the summit, directed me where to take pictures, and bought me lunch before we parted ways. My increasingly aggressive attempts to pay at least my own way if not for both of us were thwarted in typical Korean fashion—he literally pushed me out of the way at the cash register at the restaurant.
As we started from the bus stop towards the mountain, a young couple seemed to know where they were going, so we followed them. The male proceeded to give a running commentary of the hike and answer my questions about the mountain, Tan’gun etc. He noted that there was a little-known colony of Tan’gun worshippers just off of the beaten path and offered to take us there. It turns out he knew so much about the colony, Tan’gun, the mountain etc. because he was a strong believer in the divinity of Tan’gun, his father (Ch’i-u) and his father (Hwan-in). He introduced us to some of the folks who lived on the mountain in a small collection of houses surrounded by gardens. They shared fruit—grapes, apples, ch’amoe (a yellowish-white nearly tasteless mellon—and showed me the works of their founder. They even allowed me to visit their shrine on the mountain: a small hall with the images of the three deities (Tan’gun, his father and grandfather) flanked by 21 other figures of national importance, everyone from the Koguryô general Ûlchimundok to the 20th century historian Shin Ch’ae-ho (with the group’s founder respectfully off in the corner). Here was the fusion of religion and nationalism. The earnest young man who led us here proceeded to say a very nice prayer for us and we were on our way.
Some of the descriptions of the trail up Manisan make it sound as if it is an easy hike. It isn’t terribly long but it is quite steep. One trail has steps but they are far taller than the average stairs and are, therefore, quite a strain to go up. Fortunately we were warned and took an alternate route (and took the stairs down). The hiking outfits I remember from years back: heavy boots, snowflake-emblazoned socks, vests, ice-picks etc. seem to have given way to sleek black outfits. Of course, many simply hiked in whatever they happened to walk out of the house wearing. Whatever the case, most of the Korean hikers seemed to be laboring (and sweating) far less than this large Western barbarian was.
At the top was a stone altar of sorts reputed to have been used/constructed by Tan’gun himself. An enterprising old couple had carried up bags of cans of tea and other drinks on their backs and were selling them to the thirsty crowd (the source of my Aloe tea). The view over the surrounding islands, off into the Yellow Sea and North to the forbidden DPRK was nice if rather hazy. One thing I noticed on this entire Kanghwa trip was the almost complete absence of wildlife. Saw a couple of cranes in rice fields but other than that, almost nothing in the way of birds, squirrels etc. Not sure what this means.
