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.

Not Normal.

It's the end of January, nine months into my contract, with only three short months left in Korea.  Since I've stopped writing I've gone to Japan (Tokyo and Kyoto) for a week, I've gone to Taiwan (Taipei and Taroko Gorge) for four days, and the Philippines (Tacloban and Bilihran Island) for yet another week.  Oh, and I've been in Korea this entire time.

I can't believe how quickly this life became normal for me. 

Of course I wanted to write.  Of course I had things to say about what I did.  However, being surrounded by others who share the same interests--that have travelled just as much if not more than me--convinced me that what I was doing was average. Not worth sharing. Normal.  As if staying on a private island surrounded by untouched jungle and no electricity with a group of friendly locals helping you fish for breakfast was normal (Higatangan Island, Philippines).  As if attempting to hitch-hike on a thin strip of road with a wall of stone on one side and a rushing river in the gorge hundreds of feet down was average (Taroko Gorge, Taiwan).  Almost as if staying in an ancient temple on palace grounds before it is opened for tourists, waking up with the monks for a Buddhist service that has been happening at sunrise for hundreds and hundreds of years was an uninteresting day (Kyoto, Japan).

I realized in Japan that if I really wanted to travel--and continue for some time--I would have to find new ways of discovery.  I was glad to see Tokyo, but it had the same Starbucks that Seoul and New York did.  It had McDonald's and Wi-Fi and movie theaters.  It had a subway and set prices and imported food.  I love these things (I really do), but ultimately it is detrimental to learning what the essence of a culture is and meeting those from that culture.  Strangers are less likely to help you in a city where the signs are in English.  They're less likely to talk to you, and probably won't even notice you.  You're more likely to know exactly what you've ordered at a restaurant.  And you're able to figure out exactly how to flush the toilet.

I am slowly but surely going around the world, meeting interesting people and learning where I belong in the whole colorful, adventerous mess. My travels may not be easy, but they are a rewarding challenge for the true back-packers out there.  I want to let others interested in these things know when, where, and how to travel as best as I can.  I want to make it easier to get to Sokcho, or Maokong, or Kyoto and save the traveller after me some precious time on their trip.  I also realized that where I plan on going, you need all the help you can get. My stories can help travellers who believe that tanning on a beach in Boracay is not a true Filipino experience, or that Seoul shouldn't be all that one experiences in Korea.

And I've had adventures that, if nothing else, I would like to write down and remember and look back on.

So, this is my own little manifesto.  I have three months to really dig deep and discover more of Korea from Gyeongju to Jeju Island.  I have a couple of months to document my trips through southeast Asia this summer.  I have a lifetime of new places, people, and discoveries to find.  You're welcome to follow me.

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.

The Graduate's Dilemma

Throughout college, I waited impatiently for the end of college. 

Last June, I saw all my friends graduate and have that moment of panic: that "what do I do now?" moment.  I decided that couldn't possibly happen to me.  I've been working outside of school; my life is more outside of school than in it.  I'll be fine.  Then I graduated this December, and all that was shattered.  I was out in the world, free to do whatever I wanted: meanwhile I've stayed at my old job, continued serving tables, and continued living in New York City.  It seems that there are so many things I want to do, so many opportunities, that I've actually done nothing.  It feels like I'm trying to move to the left, right, front and back all at the same time...which leaves me right where I am. 
Even this blog--even this post--is going in so many directions and I can't even pretend to control it. All I know, as of very recently, is that I am moving to South Korea to become a teacher.  The paperwork is in progress. 


I guess, like characters in a play, there are the people in my life that represent all of these things:
First of all there are my parents.  Neither of them have ever left the country, and don't plan on doing so.  When I was twelve, the whole family went to Niagra Falls, and we stayed on the U.S. side the entire time. My parents are in many ways creatures of habit.  For ten years, we went to the same place for vacation: Orlando. All seven family members drove the eighteen hours there, went to the same amusement parks, on the same rides, went to the same resort, and drove the eighteen hours back.  While they are taking the fact that I want to move to what is technically a war zone fairly well, my mother is also doing very well at assuring me that there is plenty to do here in America on a regular basis.



Then there are the two most inspirational people in my life: my boss and my co-worker at NYPR.  My boss is sort of my unofficial mentor.  She has taught me so much about myself inadvertently--we are kind of the same person, twenty years apart.  Over wine last week, I told her about my plans, and she was genuinely excited for me.  After she graduated, she moved abroad for a year, and she said it became her first empowering moment.  One of my biggest concerns in life is not fitting in all I want to do, but knowing this woman has made me realize that there is an incredibly long amount of time to everything and anything.  From Executive Producer, to college professor, to professional dancer, to living in South America, to moving to Ethiopia for two years, to becoming a mother--life can be all you want from it, and having her is a constant reminder to not be afraid to commit to things.  My co-worker is my age, and her resolution last year was to follow through and do what she said she was going to do.  It sounds simple, but in that time she's said some interesting things out loud: from "I'm moving to Cambodia for three months" to "I'm going to compete in a triathlon".  And so far, she's done them all.  Without her, I don't know if I would have the courage to do what I say out loud.  So, one opens my mind to all the opportunities that will come across in my life, and the other gives me the courage to grab hold of them and do so.  Having them as constant reminders of this has been truly moving and I'm so thankful to know both.


Then there is this guy I just met. This may sound strange, but it's weird that he's already got me thinking so much--I've known him for maybe a week.  Yet, he is completely open to everything in life in a way I had sort of have forgotten how to do.  I met him in my pajamas for goodness sakes, hungover in a big way, and still he somehow listened to our conversation with interest and still asked me out for some reason.  He keeps his heart and mind open in a way I can't help but admire.  When we first spoke, he mentioned "Sleep No More".  When my friend mentioned it to me an hour later I decided I had to go see it.  That, however, was committing to a Wednesday night show. I mentioned I was moving to Seoul, and his friend two days later told him he got a job there...so this guy decided he should move to South Korea too. Of course, who knows what will actually happen when life gets in the way.  The point is to appreciate everything that comes into your life, and accept that it is happening for a reason.



Then, as the oldest of five children, there are my siblings.  I'm honestly not sure how they feel.  I guess, with my being the odd one in the family, they aren't really surprised...they expect this kind of stuff from me.  My brother actually said, in an honest, straight-forward way that is foreign to my family's sarcastic tendencies, that he would miss me.  My youngest sister, Sammy Jo, misses me even from New Jersey now.  One of my favorite things in the world is coming home to her running to the door for a huge hug, then seeing her a moment later prancing around the house in my shoes.  The older sister is just turning twenty-one, and my other brother will be graduating high school...it would feel strange, missing all these milestones.  No one in my family has ever left for anywhere.  So far, the oldest three have all gone to college in the tri-state area.  Leaving would be heart-breaking...but I guess it's better to have it hurt because you love something so much.  In the end, I have to keep reminding myself that part of being the oldest is showing the younger ones what they are capable of.  I can't take full credit, but being the first to move out, to get a job, to follow my crazy career path, etc....I hope it helped make it a little less scary for my brothers and sisters than it was for me.


Making this list of people in my life, I've realized there is no one--not even my parents--that are telling me not to go.  Something about it is just so freeing, and so fleeting, everyone has either felt that rush and wants it for me or regrets ever having it (except, I think, my parents).  Who knows what will happen in the future, what might make me stay here or in another city, or if I'll ever have the opportunity to just pick up and leave again.


This, as I expected, has been a crazy first post.  I hope no one finds this blog until it actually has a point.