Here’s a shot from a quick trip up to Atchison this weekend. As you can see, Spring is not yet here. But it’s not far off. The budding trees are a reminder of just how fast this year is flying by.
Within the last couple of weeks the calendar has begun to fill up with work. Some hard work — other work that’s almost more like play. It’s going to be crazy around here for the next few weeks… okay, maybe months… but I’ll try and keep the posts coming as often as possible. Buckle up and bear with me…
Yesterday I wrote about the amazing kalbi dinner I’d had in South Korea two years ago to the day. Today, I’ll once again go back two years to the next evening when I participated in the Beomeosa Templestay program.
In the morning we had traveled to Busan and, after spending a couple of hours exploring their amazing fish market, headed over to the Beomeosa Temple where we would spend the next 20 or so hours living among — and learning about the daily life of — Korean buddhist monks. The first task was to dress the part. Here I am after donning the provided gear (the t-shirt and socks were mine).
Believe it or not, a short Powerpoint presentation came next that explained a bit about what we would be experiencing during Templestay. Soon after it was time for Balwoo Gongyang, the communal Buddhist meal service. We were each provided a stack of bowls wrapped in white cloth and we were led in single file through the temple grounds to the dining hall.
Balwoo Gongyang is no simple event. The entire process was described to us in detail by a young monk. He began by getting us properly arranged and sitting on the floor in four rows. Once we were arranged, it was time to arrange our bowls and other utensils that we had brought with us. There were four bowls and they each needed to be placed in a certain position in front of us and each had a specific purpose. The nested bowls were removed one by one using the thumbs only and placed in their correct spot without making a sound.
I’ll skip ahead here because dinner took several hours due to the lengthy description of each step. I’ll just say that you were to take less food than you needed to be full, you were to eat everything you took, the bowls were rinsed one into the other in a specific sequence, scrubbed with a radish slice which you then ate, and the wash water was then poured into a large pot that was circulated around the room. If there was any food particles remaining in the water when everyone had finished, the water would be divided among all of us to drink. The idea was to teach young monks (and in this case, us) not to waste. And, believe me, we didn’t waste.
After the meal, we had a surreal arts & crafts session with the monks and made paper lotus lanterns out of paper cups and candles. It was dark by now and we went outside where our candles were lit (my lantern immediately burst into flames and was destroyed entirely) and we paraded through the temple grounds passing a variety of huge golden buddhas in small buildings along the way.
Back inside we had a lengthy tea ceremony with teachings on buddhist philosophy and we were finally led off to our communal rooms for the night where we slept on the heated wood floors just as the monks.
While the meal was not memorable in the same way as the kalbi feast of the day before, this was definitely one experience I will never forget.
Today has been a catch-up day. I’ve prepped over 500 images from recent trips for submitting to my stock agency and compiled over 1200 photos to send in to the US Copyright office as part of my ongoing effort to keep my registrations current. Add to that the installation of various system and software updates and it’s just been one of those mind-numbing days that have to be endured.
While shuffling around all of these image files, I made a realization. I just happened to notice some photos that were dated exactly two years ago today from a trip I made to South Korea. Two years ago today, I had one of the best meals of my life. Happily, I had recorded it with my little Panasonic LX-1 — see the image above.
By March 30, 2006, we had been in Korea for 5 days and had eaten about every kind of dried and/or processed fish (and various sea-dwelling invertebrates), sprouts, leaves, and the always-present kimchi that you can imagine. Kimchi, I would say, is an acquired taste and our stay in Korea was not long enough for me to develop a full appreciation. By the time we reached this point in our trip I was ready for something a little more substantial.
We arrived in Daegu after a morning of Buddhist temple touring and walked into an all-too-familiar looking dining room in a small restaurant on an unassuming side street. Pale grass-cloth wallpaper, low tables with inset charcoal burners, and a hardwood floor with pillows in place of dining chairs. The tables were covered in small bowls of side dishes that included various sprouts, mushrooms, processed fish, pickled things, and — of course — kimchi. Pretty much the setup we’d come to expect by this point.
What came next was unexpected — at least to me. We were having a very special local Kalbi, or barbecue pork, marinated in herbs and spices. The meat was dropped onto the hot grills at the center of each table and the aroma began to hint at what was in store. The result was — as best as I can describe it — the best bacon you’ve ever tasted in your life. Thick, meaty chunks of herb-marinated bacon.
I’ll stop here because to describe it any further would be cruel. I’ll post part two of “memorable meals” tomorrow. It will describe the dinner I had the very next day. And it couldn’t have been more of a contrast…
It’s 70 degrees out. If anyone needs me, I’m on the deck with the Mrs. and a couple of long-necked friends…