Kyoto, Japan: Kinkaku-ji (Temple of the Golden Pavilion)

When you think of Japan lots of things come to mind.  Anime, sushi and sake, or maybe even this stuff.....but what I ended up loving when I left Japan sounds like a cheesy Martha Stewart special: what I appreciated was the delicate planning the Japanese put into a garden.  The Zen gardens were lovely to explore in their simplicity, but once a garden is truly cultivated, there's a balance in the leaves, and the way the water shapes itself around the trees that makes the most simple places paradise.  Then, add a temple painted bright gold, and you have magic. 

Kinkaki-ji was of the few places I paid to get in, and I almost didn't go at all, but two girls from Singapore found me on the verge of a nervous breakdown (because my PIN number wasn't working and I was completely out of money).  What would have taken days in horrible English instead took (only) three hours: they helped me in the Japanese they knew, and we finally got an ATM to work internationally.  They didn't have to help me, but you learn when travelling that people need to help each other when they can.  They could have easily wished me luck (or thought me crazy) and went on their way, but instead their generosity helped me to salvage a day in Kyoto.  After we (or maybe just me) calmed down over a bowl of noodles, we decided to make our way towards the temple together.

On the bus, we met a man who happened to live across from the temple.  Thankfully, feeling safer with my new companions, we didn't think it was that strange to accept an invitation to his home.  He paid for the bus fare, and lead us to his beautiful villa.  He gave us scarves with his own designs, gave us drinks, and (once he found out I was from New York City), talked about the New York Yankees pretty much non-stop.  We took some pictures, talked for a little while, then we went on our way happy to have made a new friend.  Because of a miscommunication he thought I still lived in NYC, and when he wanted an address from me in order to write a letter, I couldn't bear to break his heart.  So, I gave him a friend's address.  Two weeks later she received this:

The temple was worth every penny, and we got there as the sun was about to set, leaving a golden color on the leaves and water as it rippled away from the temple.  I realized I had met three wonderful people that day because of a stressful money crisis.  It was worth it to be able to have the adventure I did, even if I didn't know it at the time. Travelling is a wild animal in itself: strange, unpredictable, and hard to communicate with.  Sometimes you simply have to wait until its calmed down enough on its own, and sometimes there are people there to help you sooth it back under control.

Japan: Kyoto

Somehow, with the craziness of Mud Festival, trips to Sokcho, Suwon, various hiking expeditions, and of course the ever-present Hong-Dae I never wrote about Kyoto.  Which, ironically, was by far my most favorite city I have been to so far while travelling, and my favorite city in Japan (which included a temple stay)! Tokyo had the amazing people, sights, and good food, but Kyoto held the history, and I was anxious to get there.

It started off with what was a good plan on paper and not-so-ideal in real life.  Like most plans made for logistics and not comfort, it maximized my time there. So no: I do not regret trying to sleep on a midnight bus from Tokyo to Kyoto, then trying to find a secret place to nap (and failing) until the city woke up.

The bus and train station in Kyoto is absolutely beautiful with amazing restaurants and a truly wonderful visitor center I highly recommend.  Unfortunately, it didn't open until 9 a.m. so I had three hours to kill.  I threw my luggage in a locker and walked to the nearest temple, which happened to be (as would most everything I saw) embedded in a deep and fascinating history.  With the help of Johnnie, an self-professed ancient man who's been leading tours in the area for about a million years, I learned all I needed to know (and maybe a little more that didn't really matter)  Still, well worth the 2,000 yen.  (http://web.kyoto-inet.or.jp/people/h-s-love/)

My favorite place was the Gion District, with its old alley ways and wooden buildings.  Within the old structures, there are English-friendly menus, jazz clubs, and delicious food.  It's right on a river, with a canal running down the main street as well, and the sunsets were beautiful.

There's an old theater, and an interesting geisha show that depicts all the different talents a geisha learns (with brochures in every language, which was great for the German friends I made at the hostel).  It was in this area that I made sure to take a tea ceremony class, which I rudely interrupted and overall failed as a geisha.  I was much better at the sake tasting.

Gion is also a good area for getting the subway and buses, which I immediately took to the Fushimi Inari Shrine, Kinkakuji (Golden Temple), and Ninnaji Temple, and Arashiyama (with its bamboo forest and monkey park). 

In the end, I was in Kyoto for four days, but learned and experienced so much I remember it as a journey.  It was a perfect blend of old and new, modern and traditional, urban and suburban.  I can't wait to do it again.

Japan: Tokyo: Where are you going, where have you been?

Lonely Planet writes that Japan basically said, "We'll take you're technology, but we're keeping everything else."  Yes, there are convenience stores stuffed between wooden buildings, and Starbucks next to temples and shrines.  And some shopping areas are so intense you might as well be on Park Avenue.  However--when you really get down to it--Japan in uncannily Japanese.  It's what everyone's been talking about when they tell me they've experienced a "backwards culture".  It's not that there's anything wrong with it at all, it's just truly different than the one you know.  I've been in Korea for almost four months now, and it wasn't until I landed in Tokyo that I was reminded that I was on the other side of the world.  

I already wrote about my first day in Tokyo, and the last day there I took an easy day-trip to Yokohama before heading out to Kyoto on the overnight bus.  Inbetween though, Tokyo truly has everything:  the shopping is truly unlimited, the shops sell just about anything you could ever want, there's sushi, there's sake, and an endless choice of spectacular views.  Needless to say, it's easy to get lost.  In search of one of these views, I got very lost.  I thought at one point I was headed west, but looking at a map I realized I had not even been close.  A man came up in broken English and offered help, and I was so incredibly relieved.  We got to talking--he is a grandfather of two, and visited the states two times.  I told him I lived in Korea.  Moments later I was not back at the subway like he promised but instead in Japan's Koreatown.  He wanted me to help him order food.  In Korean.  After helping him order some kimbab he more or less just shuffled away.  One of the phrases I learned in Japanese was "doko", which means "where", and it was the only word I could muster as I watched him walk away.  Where are you going?  Where have you been?

Still unsure of any direction, I moved on.  I was again approached by a man.  This one was a bit younger, maybe in his late 20's, and had wild hair.  He was holding a plastic bag with plastic things in it, beat up sandals, cut-off sweatpants and a tank top, and I wondered if he was homelesss.  He spoke English really well.  He asked a bunch of questions as he led me to the government building, but he made a lot of sounds too.

"What's uhhhhhhhhhh mm.  What's your, uhm, name-uh? Eh?"

I would answer.

"Okay okay.  Mm. Hap.  This way.  We go mm?"

I would try some encouraging affirmation, to which he would unfailingly reply, "Okay okay."

If I hadn't run into two helpful Germans I'm not sure what he had been expecting of me, but I was able to attach myself to these perfect strangers and enter the building just fine.  He stood waving for a few minutes and although I was glad to be left alone, I was sad I would never see him again, never know where he was coming from, or where he was going with all that plastic.

In my time in Tokyo I tried some odd desserts, I explored some temples, I bought a MarioKart shirt, visited the Tsukiji Fish Market, joined an anti-nukes protest in response to their decision to rebuild the powerplant that had caused a nuclear disaster, and visited the Imperial Palace.   I hyper-ventilated in Shibuya Crossing where 100,000 people cross through every hour. I went karaoking all night with fifteen new friends and watched the sun rise over Tokyo with one good one.  I had really good sushi and really bad coffee.  It was my first time truly travelling alone, and I loved every minute of it.  I was free to try whatever I wanted, to change plans in an instant, and to meet new people with an open heart and mind.  I met some amazing people in Tokyo.  The beauty of meeting other travellers is that they are all open to experience, adventure, and people as well.  Where are you from, where are you going...by the way, how did you get there?  They emphathize with your stories of set-backs and they appreciate and applaud your accomplishments.  I've never completely in my element while in one place, and so it was when I was transient that I really felt at home. 

Busan: Seokbulsa Temple (서 크 볼 라)

Somewhere, nestled into the side of Geumjeongsan Mountain is Seokbulsa Temple (literally meaning "Rock Buddha Temple").  This is where I finally had my "Oh wow I'm in South Korea" moment.  The two girls I was with both had that moment of realization on the plane ride here, either calling a family member for the last time before taking off or using their visa to enter the country.  For me, all that was a blur of unfamiliar sounds and images.  It wasn't until I had spent the entire day hiking, looking for an elusive temple that most Koreans didn't even recognize, and finally exploring a Buddhist Temple looking down on the entire, sprawling city of Busan that zig-zagged in and out of the foot of various lush mountains that I thought, "I'm here." 

It seems like a lame set of directions, but I'm still not sure how to get to the actual park, so the best thing to do would be to take Line 1 to Oncheonjang Station and simply take a cab to Geumgang Park.  Me and my friends took the other, most reliable form of directions: get lost, and ask a random woman where to go, who will walk the twenty minutes with you up hill leading you directly to the entrance.  Another reason to love Korea.  From there you take the cable car one way.  Gretchen's eyes widened a little when I said that.

"Brianna," she said looking up at the giant mountain before us, "are you sure? One way?"

The only other option is to find the paved road that leads directly to the temple.  It's got vans passing every few minutes, it's very steep, and that way does not involve a cable car, which would truly be missing out on something. It was beautiful.  Seeing Busan sprawled out before you as you climb thousands of feet is worth the trip to Geumgang Park alone. 

Once at the top, my two friends looked at me expectantly.  "What's next?"  I fumbled with my directions, a conglomerate of various blogs that had super helpful tips like "make a left when it gets rocky".  I was nervous and suprised that these two women trusted me enough to follow me into these vast woods to find what was a fairly unknown temple, but excited by the sense of risk, responsibility, and adventure that it brung.

"It says to find the South Gate, turn around, and take the path that you didn't use to get there," I said.

"That sounds like a riddle."

"Well, from there we should find Namman Village, so once we get there we will re-evaluate."

Thankfully it was a holiday, so in typical Korean form, many people were out hiking and enjoying nature.  No one knew what Seokbulsa Temple was, but everyone knew South Gate and Namman Village, so we found our way eventually through a series of following pointed fingers.  The South Gate is definitely a wonderful place to stop to rest.  Like most everything else, the fortress was destroyed in the Japanese Occupation from 1910-1945, but it was originally built in 1701 as a defense against, ironically, the Chinese.  Just down the path a couple of minutes is the village.  Although we didn't, I wish we had stopped for lunch at Namman.  Every place greeted us with a friendly "anyang" and offered us a place to order traditional Korean food.  We knew we were getting close because the people there started recognizing the temple name. 

For about twenty minutes after the village we fell down the mountain.  It was so steep, "hiking" would be an innapproriate term.  There were ropes to hold on to and you could definitely stop if you had the willpower, but going too fast was not an option with so many boulders in the way.

"Didn't you say if it got rocky we were going the right way?" asked Rachel.

"We definitely have to be going the right way."

From there we found a paved road, made a right, and went uphill.  Very uphill.  To mistake the last climb as "not worth it" would be an gross misunderstanding.  Entering the area is nothing short of breath-taking.  Truly in-sync with nature, the temple is built within the side of the mountain.  Stone steps take you to various rooms to pray in, and an precarious crawl through small openings of stone will lead you to yet another place of prayer, reflection, and breath-taking views.  Huge statues are carved into the sides of the walls and in various corners of the cliff of both Buddha and protectors.  Because of the holiday, vibrant lanterns were hung and many of the images were decorated with other bright colors.  After wandering around in awe, we wandered back through the entrance for some free bimimbap and tea in honor of the holiday.

Rachel turned to me and said, "You realize we were at a Buddhist Temple in Korea on Buddha's Birthday right?"

The original entrance

I smiled. Having it said out loud I suddenly felt a sense of truly owning my life.  For so long I've wanted to travel the world but it seemed a fleeting, impossible whim.  Something that was too good to be true.  Now I found myself with new friends on the side of a mountain in a foreign country, sitting at a typical Korean table with traditional food honoring Buddha on a mountain in Busan.  It was one of those rare moment in life where you can actually see how your actions led you to exactly where you are.  It was a wonderful view.

Busan: Yonggungsa Temple (용궁사)

Our first full day in Busan my two friends and I caught the 181 bus (off of Exit 7 of the Haeundae Station) towards Yongungsa Temple.  In typical Korean (or maybe Asian) fashion, there was a mad rush for the door, general chaos, then a half hour of typical "stoptional" driving, where red lights are more or less considered a suggestion, obnoxious starting and stopping ensues because it seems no one ever has the right of way (or maybe everyone does), and on top of that you don't really know when you're getting off.  Fortunately, it being the day before Buddha's Birthday, most of the bus piled out all at once and we found ourselves off the bus at the bottom of the hill. 

As we entered we found ourselves mesmerized: through more than 50 lanterns and a natural cave we came to look out on a temple situated on the side of a cliff looking out to the ocean:

It was absolutely breath-taking.  Although somewhat crowded because of the holiday, it is so vast and so incredibly detailed than even standing in one spot I found myself enraptured.  Knowing the basics of Buddhism having researched it thoroughly all throughout college, I felt overwhelmed by all the writing and yearned for interpretation.  The chanting was both haunting and soothing despite it's audited sound through many different speakers. 

Then there were the lanterns.  The many tags attached included either a prayer, or a hope, or a resolution to concentrate on.  These were Lotus Lanterns, which are unique to Korea.  They represent not only the light of knowledge, but also the willingness of Buddhism's followers to rise from the mud into enlightenment.

What I loved most was the prayer: Buddhism is not idolistic, and the image of Buddha is there simply to remind the follower of his practices.  Buddhism is also about focusing the mind, and prayer ranges from chanting, to silent meditation, to active prayer that includes standing, kneeling, and bowing in a loop. 

After wandering for hours, lost in the sea of colors and the color of the sea, we made our way back to the top of the 180 stone steps.  On our way we noticed people throwing coins into two separate statues that held bowls.  Suddenly Rachel pushed a coin in my hand.  Not one for fantastical wishes, and inspired by the calm of the temple that was so intrinsically one with the land, I threw the coin.

It didn't even come close. I didn't need a wish though.  I felt a deep-seated happiness knowing that simply the practice of obtaining inner peace had inspired all those people to gather at Yongungsa Temple that day.  All I had wished for was the happiness I had already received that day to stay with me.

I didn't learn until afterwards that the Yonggungsa Temple Motto: "At least one of your wishes will be answered here through your heartful prayers."

Busan: Pobi Guesthouse, KTX, and foreigners (Part 1)

Two friends and I decided to take full advantage of the four day weekend we had for Buddha's birthday and headed to Busan.  Because Korean holidays follow the lunar calendar, the holiday happened to coincide with Memorial Day back in the states this particular year.  Because I told my sister about Buddha's Birthday and her response was "Oh he just wants a Memorial Day weekend, how's he doing by the way?", I figured I would provide a quick summary, proving that Buddha is not fine but is indeed more or less dead, and the holiday has been celebrated for signifigantly longer than any and all modern war veterans:

No one is very sure of Siddartha's place of birth or when he was born, but the most popular theory is that he was born somewhere near Nepal between 500-400 B.C.  Buddha is not his name but became his title, which simply means "enlightened one".  He was raised a spoiled, fairly ignorant prince and it is believed that it wasn't until he became a young adult that he became aware of pain and suffering in the world.  He became obsessed with the idea of eternal hapiness and tried a bunch of crazy things from running away from the palace, his wife and child, to giving away all material goods to starving himself nearly to death.  Finally he sat under a tree for something like 40 days and there he finally attained enlightenment.  In this state, called Nirvana, no identity exists perse as all ailments (including greed, regret, anger, hunger, etc.) are eliminated.  These are called "dukka", and "The Four Noble Truths" explain these, how they affect us, and how to overcome them using the "The Noble Eightfold Path". Historians are not even sure what language Buddha used but we do know that he taught his practice to all classes despite gender or ethnicity.  Hence Buddhism was established with a strong following throughout Asia, and according to the super reliable Wikipedia, there are about 300-500 million Buddhists today. 

I fact-checked on various websites, but I know most all of this because I was just about set to become a Buddhist my freshman year of college.  I then realized it was highly impractical to try and eliminate all desire when you live in a society where you are considered dead if you don't have a phone or a facebook.  Still, part of the teaching is moderation--you may not be able to eliminate all desires in life, but you can practice meditation or simply remind yourself that the human mind is above that dress or sunglasses you want and a form of happiness is indeed possible with,some level of inner  peace.  My other idol, Kurt Vonnegut once said: "And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.'”

Lastly: If you are still interested and I haven't bored you to death, I highly reccomend Herman Hesse's "Siddartha".  A colorful biography of the Buddha's life, it's a simple, easy, quick read that will stay with you when you're stuck in traffic or run out of money or get sunscreen in your eye.

Back to my Busan adventure:

By bus, the trip takes over five hours, but for just a little bit of extra won we found ourselves in a comfortable train going 315 kilometers/hour (about 200 miles per hour). The KTX train split our time in half and, anxious to get my feet in some sand, I was more than happy to spend the extra money.

Our planning was last minute, so we had no choice in hostel and ended up at the only place with availability: the Pobi Guesthouse.  Expecting the worst, we could not believe our luck:  the hostel was friendly, well-organized, very clean, and super safe.  We had computer access as well as free wi-fi, shampoo, a decent breakfast, a personal locker, and clean sheets.  Not only that, but besides being directly on the beach we were the next closest building to it.  It's always a good sign when the place you're staying reads "Please wipe off sand".

The first thing we noticed walking around the downtown area was the amount of foreigners.  Being a holiday weekend, it seemed that every foreign teacher had headed to Busan...and we weren't fans.  A group that sat next to us at dinner literally flexed his muscles and pointed when we asked which way the beach was.  Then they recomended a "Foreigner Bar". By the time we got to the beach it was dark, and after sliding down a giant pile of sand with all the little kids, admiring some amateur fireworks displays, and working our way up and down the length of the beach, we found ourselves growing silent.  The ocean has something magical about it--even without seeing it you can simply feel the void it fills as the unknown.  Haeundae Beach, which is the most popular beach in Busan, has it's own mini bay with land curling up on the sides.  As we looked out we could see the hotel and building lights reach out into the sea then end abruptly, swallowed by vast darkness.  The waves lazily lapped on rocks rhythmically and we sat looking out into nothing, trying to imagine just where in the universe we where.

The weekend included lounging on the beach, mexican food at both the Fuzzy Navel and Taco Senorita, soju (obviously), Namaste Indian Food, a very neon bar called 88 in Miami, hiking, Yongungsa Temple, Seokbulsa Temple, and a free jetski ride out far enough to see the city of Busan and the mountain backdrop that protects it.  Those stories are too cool to summarize, and this post is obnoxiously long as it is, so feel free to click those links to find out what happens. It's like a Make-Your-Own-Adventure Book! Remember those?  Turn to page 5 if you decide this stuff is somewhat interesting....