Last Saturday, Daniella, Nate and I finally arrived to Heinsa after a three hour bus-train-metro-bus journey. Stretching our stiff legs, we shuffled off the bus into the refreshingly cool crisp fall air and we were immediately greeted not only by hoards of Korean tourists, but also by beautiful mountains whispily-dabbled with misty clouds and blanked in tangerine orange, fire red, and sunshine yellow foliage. Fall has arrived here in Korea, and being one of my favorite seasons as well as the one that most reminds me of my family and childhood in New England, I am trying to soak it up as much as possible.
Heinsa is celebrating it's 1000 year anniversary this year, thus the crowds of Koreans. However, as a UNESCO World Heritage site, it's quite understandable. In short, Heinsa houses the Trippitaka Korana, a set of 80,000 hand-carved wood blocks on which spell out the entire Mahayana Buddhist canon. Over 1000 years ago when King _____ (I can't remember his name) commissioned their creation, that request essentially unified the Buddhist religion here in Korea, thus the are not only a quite impressive piece of history, but as they have survived in perfect condition over the past 1000 years, they as well as their storage facility are also an impressive feat of engineering. To say the least, in spite of the long journey, I found Heinsa quite fascinating.
After seeing the wood blocks, of which we were not allowed to take pictures but of which I snuck one picture, we headed back to the bus terminal, bought our tickets, waited about 20 minutes for the bus, and while we were waiting, met a group of mentally and physically disabled Korean people. More specifically, we were standing next to a deaf man and women as well as their two children who could hear and who could also speak basic English. The kids taught us how to say “Hello” in Korean. It was pretty cool to think about the universality of sign language. In any case, their bus arrived first, so we said goodbye since they did not teach us how to sign goodbye, and a few minutes later our own bus arrived.
In characteristic Korean fashion, once the bus arrived, I was moderately pushing in getting onto the bus, and just as I go on the bus, the woman who had pushed her way in front of me and Nate turns around and says, “You were quite pushy.” I was taken aback , but just let it slide because I was happy to be on the bus. Though, once I realized that there was only standing room and an hour and a half journey in front of me, I was, to say the least, not super happy, but I guess that’s the Korean bus system. To pass the time, I began to talk to Daniella and Nate, and about five minutes into our conversation, a middle aged Korean man turned to us and said “Please be silent.” At this point, I was tired from the day’s travel, a bit unhappy about having been pushed and then reprimanded for pushing and on top of it all having to stand on a bus for an hour and a half, so I almost go mouthy, but at the last second just decided to let it go, pulled out my Kindle and tried to read. An hour and a half later, we arrived back at the metro station, took the metro to the train, the train to the bus, and finally retired for the night in a DVD room (a for-rent room where you can sit on a nice couch and watch a movie).
In retrospect of this past weekend, I am coming to realize that my journey to Heinsa was not just significant because of the historical site I got to see, but also because, I did not hesitate to travel for three hours to a place which I have never been, using a public transportation system that is almost entirely in Korean, in a country that even now at two-ish months in, still feels pretty foreign. I guess what I’m saying, is that I’m giving myself some kudos for simply traveling so far with so little hesitation. In a large sense, I’ve overcome the discomfort of getting on busses/trains/metros and not entirely knowing where I’ll end up. It’s still a bit unnerving, but whereas when I first got here I was much more hesitant, now I am hardly at all.
I’ve come to realize that with that lack of hesitancy comes possibilities of endless dimensions. Of course each time I get on a bus or train or metro, one of the possibilities is that I reach my intended destination, but another one of the possibilities is that I end up somewhere completely unplanned, and in that second possibility lives spontaneity. I’m coming to realize that spontaneity is not something that just occurs but is something that you have to allow to occur, and to allow it to occur I’m coming to realize that all you have to do is let go of control if only for even a little while. I find that lack of control, or at least most control, to be on par with reaching the crest of a roller coaster right before the big drop. At that moment, though I’m full of excitement and anticipation and a bit of nervousness, I know that in the end, everything will be fine because I trust the roller coaster.
I guess what I am trying to say is that when I get on the bus without 100% control and understanding of where I’ll end up, I’m fine with that feeling of the unknown because I’m coming to trust myself here in Korea in a way that I’ve only had glimpses of before. I’m beginning to trust myself because, in almost purely out of necessity, I’m beginning to trust other people to a greater extent than I have ever before. My mantra here has essentially become that in the “worst case, we can just ask someone for help.” Had I not come to SoKo and been put into countless situations where I only have the capabilities of an infant, I’m not sure I would have learned the virtue and experienced firsthand the benefit of having to rely so heavily on others. It’s a nice feeling because it’s allowing me to let go of the reins so to speak, experience the ensuing spontaneity, and all the while know that things will end up okay.
I’m headed to the Busan Fireworks Festival this weekend. Details and pictures will follow :-)
And to anyone reading this, I miss you deeply, and I hope you are happy and well!
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