Kook Hyun Jeong
(Five-time World Taekwondo Champion and 1988 Olympic Gold Medalist)
and Grandmaster Sun Hwan Chung
(Five-time World Taekwondo Champion and 1988 Olympic Gold Medalist)
and Grandmaster Sun Hwan Chung
Wednesday, June 19, 2002
Westbound
Another absolutely gorgeous, cloudless day! The sun came up early through the bedroom blinds and was already at full volume by 5:40am. Of course, I was up before then, packing a few last-minute items. Today I leave for Korea, my Tae Kwon Do graduation trip to the birthplace of the martial art.
I picked up "Kwan Chang Nim" (Martial Arts Grandmaster and Founder) ... Taekwondo Hall of Fame member and also my good friend ... Sun Hwan Chung at his house in Kalamazoo at 9:30 and we were soon heading down I-94 toward Detroit Metropolitan Airport.
On the drive to the airport, the grandmaster shared many personal stories among which was his tale of how he survived his first six months in the United States. As a new arrival to Detroit, Chung was told by his master Jae Joon Kim that his job was to take on and defeat all challengers in full contact sparring – thus giving Kim’s dojang greater credibility and earning it more respect. As an incentive, Chung was told that any loss would result in his immediately being sent back to Korea.
Over the next six months, Chung fought hundreds of matches – not losing a single one of them. His reputation spread as far as the West Coast and Hawaii, enticing a well-known sparring champion from the islands, Master Mariano Estioko (the second American to receive a black belt from Grandmaster Hwang Kee) to challenge Chung to a non-contact fight in September of 1970. Chung accepted. The fight began and ended quickly when Estioko began hitting Chung several times in the chest and face. Surprised, Grandmaster Chung responded with an axe-kick to the combatant’s throat, instantly knocking him out and sending him into a frightening fit of choking and gagging which brought out large amounts of sputum and blood.
By the time Chung left for Kalamazoo, December of 1970, he remained undefeated and had earned a tremendous reputation worldwide for being a ruthless fighter. It was hard to envision such brutality as I looked at the diminutive gentle man sitting beside me in the car.
We arrived at the new Detroit Metro Airport and checked-in without incident. Security was only slightly more noticeable since the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. As we waited at the Northwest World Club room, the Grandmaster told me of his difficulties obtaining U.S. citizenship, which he finally and successfully acquired in 1978. Our flight, Northwest 11, was delayed an hour, which would make our leisurely stop-over at Narita a perilously tight forty minutes. Although we still thought that we could make the connection, we worried about the possibility of losing our luggage. We were finally wheels up at 5:10pm.
The minute the flight attendant began pouring drinks, somewhere near Winnipeg, we encountered massive clear-air turbulence. The drinks cart turned over onto it’s side, smashing glasses and spilling gallons of water, coffee, pop, and wine all over the floor. We all belted in – including the attendants- leaving the mess to jitter during the remaining bumps and heaving.
We hit another bad patch of air near Uranium City, then things smoothed out as we approached Alaska.
At 34,000 feet, we passed near Sitka and Juneau and almost directly over Kenai and Anchorage. Exactly one year ago, our family was bouncing around Alaska by cruise boat and train. Today I was blasting over it at 579 miles an hour. For the record, a thin layer of clouds obscured the mountains of Denali National Park – denying me, once more, the opportunity to spot Mount McKinley.
I kept my eyes peeled while looking around the first class passenger cabin, just in case some celebrity was traveling to Korea to watch the World Cup Soccer Championships. No such luck.
Thursday, June 20, 2002
Transfer In Tokyo
Arrival In Seoul
Kaya Hotel
Well, just like that it was June 20th. We crossed the International Date Line at 2:00am EST. It was already June 20th back home. We chased June 19th halfway around the world before crossing the line mid-afternoon on the 20th. After driving through heavy, overcast clouds. We finally landed at Narita, Japan at 6:25pm in a torrential downpour. It would be my third trip to (or through) this airport in eight years!
Taxiing down the tarmac, all I could see were Boeing 747s in various configurations and with varying airline insignias. There were JAL, ANA, China Airlines, Quantas, Thai, Singapore, and Northwest Airlines all wandering around in the dark and wet.
After disembarking, we passed through security (again) and endured a complete frisking by young female security agents. Luckily, with only a ten-minute layover, we walked to the gate next to the one we arrived at and got on another 747 scheduled for Seoul, Republic of Korea.
Another two hour flight and we were arching into Inchon Airport along Korea’s northwest coast. Inchon Airport is stunningly beautiful at night with radically curved architecture of formed concrete and glass. More than thirty of the familiar powder-blue Korean Airlines 747s were neatly lined up at the Korean Air Cargo hangar.
We disembarked quickly and passed through immigration on the way to baggage claim. My bag came off the plane first, and then we waited ninety minutes for Grandmaster Chung’s bag. He was eventually told that a container of luggage was never put on the plane in Detroit. The Northwest representative told us to come back for this same flight tomorrow and maybe it would be there.
With all of the delays and hubbub, our shuttle left without us. So I suggested that I pay for one of the “deluxe” taxis parked outside to take us to Seoul, about 36 kilometers away. Chung gasped and exclaimed that these cabs are three to four times the price of “regular” taxis. He said that a deluxe taxi might cost me thirty or forty dollars. It was after midnight and I had not slept in over thirty hours. I decided “the hell with it” and threw our stuff into the deluxe taxi.
Along the way, huge World Cup signs were ever-present. Every bridge crossing the river we paralleled was lit with spectacular colored lights. The city at night looked clean, modern, and beautiful – until we pulled into an alley and walked into the Kaya Hotel. Perhaps it was the jet-lag or maybe the fact that it was after one in the morning but the hotel looked more run-down than I expected – and I wasn’t expecting much.
All of us on this Taekwondo tour had been informed prior to coming to Korea that because of the continuing World Cup soccer matches taking place throughout the country that the first-class hotel accommodations we had paid for had now become third-class accommodations. The sponsor of the tour, Master K.H.Kim of Chicago, did not make reservations until two weeks before the trip. Although first-class hotel rooms were available, their prices had skyrocketed and Master Kim, determined not to lose money on this tour, booked us in the cheapest places he could find. Several highlights of the tour were being cancelled and the whole thing was shaping up as a potential disaster. Not surprisingly, the sponsor suddenly had last-minute commitments that precluded his ability to travel with us. I was born at night, but I wasn’t born last night. Recognizing the developing situation, I had contacted my own travel agent before leaving home and set up some contingency plans, in case of emergency. These precautions proved to be invaluable as the tour evolved.
The Kaya Hotel looked much better when seen on my computer back home. The room was small and hot, without ventilation or potable water. The bed was neatly made, complete with the two hairballs I found in it. The bathtub had a shower (waist high) and was without a shower curtain, just a drain in the center of the bathroom floor. It had western-style toilets, however. A small window opened out into the alley, which collected the random sounds of every guest – who all seemed to be awake at 1:30 am.
The Kaya Hotel looked much better when seen on my computer back home. The room was small and hot, without ventilation or potable water. The bed was neatly made, complete with the two hairballs I found in it. The bathtub had a shower (waist high) and was without a shower curtain, just a drain in the center of the bathroom floor. It had western-style toilets, however. A small window opened out into the alley, which collected the random sounds of every guest – who all seemed to be awake at 1:30 am.
Not able to sleep, I had a choice of two channels on the twenty-year-old color TV – a program for Koreans on the intricacies of the English language, and movie Top Gun, dubbed in Korean.
Friday, June 21, 2002
Gyeongju
Golgusa Temple
Sunmudo Training
After four hours of sleep, I was up bright and early for breakfast at the hotel restaurant. Here, I met the other members of our tour group – five people from an Orlando dojang under Master Richard Hoehn, one guy was from K.H. Kim’s Oriental Arts Training Center in Chicago, and Chung students Daniel Wood (blue belt) and Michael Pier Luissi (green belt), sixteen and eight years old respectively. Traveling with Michael was his father, Joe.
We boarded our tour bus and began our five-hour cross-country trip to Gyeongju. Leaving Seoul, we passed by the U.S. Army Main Post located downtown. High security was evident – massive concrete dividers and dozens of armed guards at every gate. U.S. forces were joined by Korean police, who carried huge swords with curved scabbards.
As the tour bus entered the freeway, we were passed by the South Korean Presidential motorcade, which included six marked police cars, six more black cars, four black Suburbans, three black limousines, two black vans, and even a special black ambulance in tow.
Urban Seoul featured rows of massive high-rise concrete apartment complexes. Shades of Beijing – but much better built and colorfully painted. The streets are very well maintained and kept clean.
Eventually, concrete gave way to an emerging mountainscape with every flat section of ground being planted with small tracts of vegetables of all types. As we drove further into the country, this evolved into large-scale rice patties covering thousands of acres and marching up the mountainsides in tiers.
We stopped at a rest area about ninety minutes out of Seoul. Set up like a truck stop, there were dozens of vendors lined up selling pork on a stick, donuts, ice creams, and waffles. The most interesting item was a contraption that made “walnut cakes”. It is a conveyor belt with rows of molds that rotate under nozzles that pour pancake-like batter into them. The molds would move to the right where another set of nozzles would squirt a sweet bean curd paste into the center of the batter. Then the lids would snap closed and heat up to 400 degrees. Within one minute, a hot, golf-ball size pastry would pop out. I tried one. It tasted like an Archway Date Filled Oatmeal cookie.
At this stop, I bought two bottles of water, some M&Ms, and a bag of popcorn.
Grandmaster Chung also helped me to call Tam from the public telephone booth using a prepaid calling card that I bought for 5,000 won (about $4.20 U.S.)
We continued down Highway 1 to Gyeongju, where we ate lunch at a local restaurant. We were served bulgogi – a type of sautéed or simmered beef. Side dishes included smoked yellowfish, pickled cucumber, and of course…kimchee!!
Once back on the bus, our tour guide (Ms. Chung) began to brief us on our next adventure – the Golgusa Temple. This temple is located twenty kilometers east of Gyeongju. It contains the oldest historical Buddhist ruins in Mt. Hamwol and the only cave temple in Korea. The temple was carved out of solid rock during the 6th century by Saint Kwang Yoo and his fellow monks from India. The temple contains a sculptured Maya Tathagata and twelve rock caves.
The Golgusa Temple is where we would study a zen form of martial arts known as Sunmudo. It is a training system with roots based in esoteric Buddhism that has been secretly handed down for centuries. The training materializes an eight-fold path developed within four noble truths that translate into a series of body movements. Sunmudo is a way to attain enlightenment through harmonizing the body, mind, and breath. Ultimately, the practice of this martial art enables one to accomplish Samadhi and finally nirvana. The training methods include yoga, charka breathing, health exercise, and weapons techniques.
We will spend the night here in a monastery building on the temple grounds. The building has four walls and a concrete floor. There is no furniture or potable water. There was a gift shop, however, but it was closed.
Being a Buddhist monastery, the temple has strict rules that we must follow as guests. For example: no smoking, no drinking, no eating except during meals. The food is the same thing for breakfast, lunch, and dinner – rice, kimchee, and a warm curry stew that can be eaten alone or put on the rice. We must eat everything that we take and clean our plates ourselves. We must never show our teeth or tongue while eating out of respect for our fellow Buddhists. Water is sipped from a community bowl and is acquired from local springs, which are suspect hygienically.
We listened for forty minutes about these rules and more as the bus climbed into the mountains. Finally, we turned up a narrow dirt road and followed it through a gate and up to a dirt lot where the bus parked.
We were then told that it would be impossible for our suitcases to be carried up the rocky footpath to the temple grounds high above the parking lot. I emptied my camera bag and packed the most clothes I could into it – which wasn’t much.
I checked in to the temple and was handed my towel – about the size of a dishcloth. I was shown my quarters, a plain building with paper ramna screen doors divided into four rooms. The room itself had nothing in it – just four walls and a floor. I would share this room with three other people.
The latrines were located behind and up the hill from the sleeping quarters. They were eastern-style toilets – essentially holes in the ground. There were two showers, both visibly open to all guests with the exception of a narrow divider wall. Hot water was provided by a hose that split off from the thirty-year-old washing machine.
Within minutes, we had changed into our doboks and were walking the half-mile trek down to the training center. The newly-constructed center is both modern and traditional. It is a poured concrete structure, adorned with granite stairs and lots of plate-glass windows, which allow much natural light into the gymnasium. We removed our shoes and went inside. The floor is made from gorgeous mahogany strips. It is devoid of any furnishings except for an altar at one end with candles and water pots and a large colorful tapestry featuring Buddha and hanging on the wall behind it.
Suddenly, out of a door in the rear of the room stepped a tall, stern-looking young man who spoke to us in his curt Korean language. By his pointing hands, we knew to get into class positions. He told us to sit – which we did immediately. Then he explained to us more rules that we had to follow as guests of the monastery. We must bow and pray upon entering and leaving the dojang or prayer temples. This is a complex ritual of bowing, kneeling, chanting, and putting our foreheads on the floor. This routine is repeated three times before it is completed. The man then told us that were expected to participate in every activity in the schedule – including the 4:00 am chants with the monks and the 6:00 am hour-long jog along the rice patties. Finally, he told us that we would clean the dojang after our last class.
And then the class began in earnest. The first hour was a series of yoga / tai chi stretches. Periodically, the master would look at me and yell something in Korean. I would guess that it was something about not being flexible. Next came a number of leg stretch kick drills that had us marching back and forth across the room. After ninety minutes, we finished class with a prayer and returned (up the mountain) to our rooms to prepare for dinner. Preparing for dinner consisted of sitting on the concrete floor of my room trying to catch my breath. I was terribly jet-lagged, having only slept four hours in two and a half days.
Suddenly, I could hear something outside – the sound of a tapping stick on a hollow coconut or piece of wood. It was a young monk alerting us to come to the dining hall. Like all of the other buildings, the dining hall was sparse. Two long tables, about knee-high, were lined-up end to end in the middle of the room. A small cafeteria counter was along the back wall. Removing my shoes at the door, I walked in and got into a self-serve line with the monks and took rice, kimchee, and the curry stew. One nice lady in the kitchen showed me how to mix the stew and rice together. The curry stew was tasteful and the kimchee spicy.
Less than one hour later, we were back in the dojang with a new instructor who began a brutal two-hour workout. First, after a few minutes of stretching, he initiated a full hour of tumbling drills – requiring us to roll up one side of the gym and then back down the other side. Forward rolls, backward rolls, left shoulder rolls, right shoulder rolls, then front flips, then back flips, handstands, cartwheels, and every conceivable type of body roll thinkable. We did literally hundreds of them. All of this on the beautiful – but rock hard – mahogany floor. I was tasting kimchee all over again.
Finally, the master did a handstand on his fists and then proceeded to walk across the floor on his fists. Then he turned and did it back across the room again. Only one guy in our group could even get up onto his fists, but he couldn’t move. The rest of us just staggered behind him.
Next came dozens of kick drills. Front kicks, back kicks, side kicks, jumping kicks, and spinning kicks. Probably close to a thousand kicks in an hour.
Every student, all eight of us, were soaking in sweat and exhausted. We finished class with meditation and prayer before trudging back up the mountain in the dark to go to bed. By this point, I had consumed my only bottle of water and was getting dehydrated. I had also taken two Motrin before the second class to help with stiffness from the first class. My back and kidneys were extremely sore from tumbling on the hard floor. I went to the bathroom before going to bed. My urine was full of blood.
Manditory lights out at 9:00 pm.
All night I could hear the clanging of the temple bells swaying outside our paper walls in the warm night breeze.
Saturday, June 22, 2002
Midnight Meditation
More Sunmudo Training
Kampo
Sokkuram
Gyeongju Folk Craft Village
I was already awake when I heard the now-familiar wooden “clock-clock-clock” in the dark at four in the morning. I put on yesterday’s dobok pants again – slightly odiferous.
We wandered up the path to the formal prayer temple near the top of the mountain. Inside the modest building were a dozen monks on their knees praying to a large golden Buddha. We slipped in behind them and practiced the prayer ritual that we had learned the day before.
At 4:30 am, everyone began singing their chants as a monk drummed out a metronome beat. This chanting was very repetitious and was becoming somewhat monotonous when they finished forty minutes later. The service was brought to a close with a few more prayers and everyone filed out except for us students and two senior monks. We were told to face outward toward an outside wall, sit in the lotus position, and begin meditating. The lights in the temple were turned out and we all focused on breathing and clearing our minds.
My legs ached from yesterday’s classes and after about thirty minutes so did my back. I attempted to slump forward slightly to relieve the pain and pressure. A few moments later, I unexpectantly felt gentle hands on my back, straightening my posture once again.
After an hour of solitude, we gathered outside and began a three and a half mile run. Our course took us down the mountain past tall bamboo forests and onto the flat rice patties where we ran along the narrow gravel roads.
This run would be merely a warm-up for another grueling Sunmudo martial arts class.
Breakfast was the same as dinner – exactly. Soaking wet and beginning to stink, nobody wanted to sit next to me.
In serious need of water, my thirst overcame my fear of bacteria and I caved in and got in line for the community bowl, but by the time I got to it, it was nearly empty. A young lady in front of me very kindly gave me the bowl and gestured for me to drink the rest of it, without taking any for herself.
After a brief hour rest, we headed back down the mountain for one final workout. This class focused on slow-moving stretching and yoga-like postures, which disappointed the students from Orlando, who wanted to spar. On occasion, between movements, these students would jump around and fight with each other. I thought that this was very inappropriate and showed lack of discipline. I don’t think it was appreciated by the instructors either.
The masters focused on two major stretching positions called the Tiger and the Dragon. Both positions are similar and start with feet spread to the side about two shoulder-widths apart. The practitioner would bend down, keeping their legs straight, and put their thumbs and index fingers just in front of their big toes. From here, the student would tighten his buttocks, slightly pulling his heels inward and lifting up onto the tips of their big toes. Finally, the practitioner would arch his neck upward and look forward. The final position simulates a tiger in a crouching stance, ready to attack.
Each one of these forms require extreme body control, balance, and concentration. I could manage the basic position, but my legs were awkward and bent. The instructor approached me and tried to straighten my legs – which were like the concrete I had slept on. He gave up and moved on to another student. Although the form emphasized very small and subtle movements, the enlarging pool of sweat on the floor beneath me was a sign of its difficulty.
To finish class, the instructor took questions from the students. Eventually, he was asked by the students from Orlando why they did not practice sparring. The master explained the concepts of esoteric Buddhist martial arts and its pacifist philosophy. Then another student from Orlando asked if the master would spar with somebody. I could not believe the audacity of the request – especially after the master so eloquently answered the previous question.
The master did demonstrate an unbelievably difficult poomse that combined fighting and spiritual movements. The most difficult move of the form was from the lotus sitting position into a spread-eagle jump, followed by a back flip into a fighting joon be position.
Because our class was running late, we were not required to clean the gym or bow to Buddha one hundred and eight times as was required for most groups that train here.
We stomped back up the mountain one more time, where I finally showered and dried-off with the dishcloth and then packed to leave. Blood continued to show up in my evacuations. In fact, it seemed to worsen. But I was happy to be boarding the bus and headed for civilization.
We ate lunch at a place called “Korea’s First Underwater Restaurant” in the village of Kampo. Indeed this was a truthful boast, as it is located along the shore of the Sea of Japan and its lower level raw seafood bar was actually beneath sea level and had huge glass walls looking out into the great blue beyond.
From Kampo, we drove along the southeastern Korean coast to Taebon to view the Underwater Tomb of King Mummu, the powerful emperor of Silla between 661 and 681 A.D. His dying wish was that he be cremated and interred among the rocks two hundred meters off Silla’s coast, nearby the Kamunsa Temple. These rites were to be followed because he believed that he would be reincarnated as a dragon and would be able to continually protect the shores of the kingdom from Japanese pirates. The tomb was not discovered until 1967 and there is still speculation as to how he was buried in the rocky islet.
Gyenogju is the epicenter of the Silla kingdom and its massive burial mounds, tombs, and grottos all are continuing reminders of the thousand-year “Three Kingdoms” dynasty. Known then as Kumsong, Gyeongju is today one of the top three visitor destinations in Korea. For the martial artist, the Sokkuram is the most significant historic landmark in the country. It is important because it features a series of temple carvings of Hwarang Warriors in fighting stances on its walls. They are the oldest remnants of martial history in all of Korea and have become “ground zero” for Taekwondo tourists from all over the world.
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The ruins that are Gyeongju reflect the epitome of Korean art and culture. Pottery, metalwork, jewelry, woodwork, and ceramics are on display at the Gyeongju Folk Craft Village. Unfortunately, all of the nearby gift shops were closed because the entire country was glued to their TV sets, watching host Korea play Spain in the World Cup Soccer semifinals.
We checked into the Kolon Hotel, a major step up from our spartan monastic experience. The lobby of the hotel was packed with hundreds of guests wearing red shirts that said “Be A Reds” and screaming at a big screen TV as Korea upset Spain on penalty kicks. We then watched in amazement as millions of fans gathered in Seoul to celebrate the feat in a giant sea of red.
Our tour group enjoyed a dinner of Ginseng Chicken Soup – which is chicken soup consisting of broth, a full Cornish game hen stuffed with rice and a chunk of ginseng root. This soup is said to have special qualities – particularly relating to sexual performance. I dunno about that, I just went back to the hotel and went to bed.
Sunday, June 23, 2002
Return To Seoul
Sun Hwan Chung Family Dinner
Apartment Living In Seoul
Up early again – 4:30 am. A quick breakfast at the hotel we were on our way to Gyeongju Train Station to catch the 8:30 am train to Seoul. At this point, Grandmaster Chung, the Pier Luissis, and I were splitting off from the tour group. The Pier Luissis were heading back home early due to prior commitments. The Grandmaster and I were heading to Seoul to meet up with his family.
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| Gyeongju Station with Pier Luissis |
We arrived at the train station twenty minutes early and sat in the lobby – watching video clips of the Korean soccer victory over and over and over and over. Half of the people in the station were wearing “Be A Reds” team supporter T-shirts.
We left on time and cranked our way through rice patties and small villages. Even the smallest and most remote of villages were neat and clean. Many of these homes had new bright blue-colored metal roofs. I later learned that the government helps subsidize the replacement of old tile and thatched roofs with these new designs.
Sitting in the train car, we were treated to free satellite TV on an LCD screen at the front of the car. For the next five hours we watched highlights of the Korean soccer victory over and over and over and…
Grandmaster Chung told me during the trip that for six months, he worked as an undercover security policeman on the trains throughout Korea. He mentioned that once just north of Gyeongju, he got into a tussle that ended when he and his suspect both jumped off a train when it was moving at high speed. He remembers rolling and rolling and then standing up to arrest the bad guy. Later at Cheongson Station, he pointed at the spot where thirty gangsters ambushed him and two other security policemen. Chung was able to subdue about half of the attackers and only suffered cuts on the back of his head from knives that were thrown during the scuffle. His partners were not so lucky, one officer took a pipe to the head, damaging his skull. The other guy lost an eye.
We pulled into Seoul Station at 1:30 pm, about half an hour late and were surprised by Master Jae Min Kim who came all the way out to the rail siding to greet us. I remembered Master Kim fondly from his six month stint at Chung’s dojang in Kalamazoo the previous year.
As we walked out of the station, Grandmaster Chung pointed out the exact spot where he managed Moo Duk Kwan founder Hwang Kee’s Tang Soo Do dojang between 1965 and 1968. They were now building a new multi-story parking structure on that site.
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| Meeting Master Kim at the Seoul Train Station |
Because we were running late, Master Kim took us directly to the Park (Mrs. Chung’s) family condominium where I met Grandmaster Chung’s parents and Master Choi’s father. Everyone was very gracious and friendly. They were very impressed with my six-word command of the Korean language.
We proceeded to a traditional Korean restaurant where we all sat on the floor and waiters brought long tables, already laden with food from the kitchen, and sat them down in front of us.
As with most meals, it was like being presented with a private buffet – dozens of dishes with various meats, fish, vegetables, and sauces. All of this picked-from with chopsticks and eaten directly without using plates. It was a very communal experience. Everyone seemed very happy that I was digging in without being self-conscious. Near the end of the meal, Chung’s sisters would keep looking at me and talking. Grandmaster told me that they thought I was very handsome – and maybe a movie star. Yeah, right.
Afterward, we returned to the family condo where Grandmaster Chung presented everyone with a few gifts. All was right with the world. Chung was particularly happy when he was reunited with his luggage – finally.
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| Sun Hwan Chung and his extended family |
We checked into the Seoul J W Marriott hotel. It was a brand-new five-star masterpiece overlooking the Hangang River that runs through the center of Seoul. From my room I could see most of the twenty-eight bridges that cross the river at various points around the capital. On the horizon, I had a magnificent view of the Seoul skyline, including Samchong Park and the Seoul Tower on Namsan Mountain. No time to enjoy these accommodations yet, because we had to go to Master Kim’s apartment for dinner. He picked us up and began an hour-long odyssey through the winding urban streets of Seoul.
I swear that on almost every street corner there are a thousand signs of all types beconing the potential customer. Signs are painted on windows. Signs are hung from buildings. Signs are attached to light posts. Signs are put out onto the sidewalks.
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| Seoul Korea skyline |
The Seoul economy is vibrant and healthy. The people of Seoul are amazingly cosmopolitan and shamelessly capitalistic. And man, are they tight with a buck!! Every transaction is questioned and bickered-over. I literally saw arguments over amounts as small as a dime! I had a tour guide tell me that I could save three cents on a Diet Coke if I walked two blocks to a cheaper store!! And she was shocked when I bought the more-expensive soda anyway.
But once one is welcomed into a family, like I was with the Parks and Kims, the hosts are openly giving and will go to extremes to meet my needs and desires.
Master Kim continued to drive up the hills behind the Seoul Tower and worked his way onto very narrow streets and then up the even narrower alleys of Jung-Gu. We pulled into his security-gated parking lot and proceeded up to the ninth floor of an apartment building.
Both Park’s condo and Kim’s apartment are similar in that they featured entry vestibules for shoes, they had light-colored hardwood floors, and they were both neat as a pin. They both were spare in furnishings – only one or two chairs and no coffee tables. Each home had one big elaborate ebony-colored chest with intricate pearl inlay of trees and birds. Walls are painted white and without decoration with the exception of catholic crucifixes and one or two big pictures of Jesus Christ.
Both families shared these residences with three generations – grandparents, parents, and children. Six or seven people sharing one thousand square feet of living space, at most.
Once again, we were presented with a massive dinner – carried out from the kitchen on a large rectangular table. Fifteen or twenty different items were set out on the table in individual serving bowls. And again, no plates.
Mrs. Kim remained in the kitchen the entire duration of our stay. Either she was preparing dinner or cleaning it up. She never joined us to eat.
We all shared a couple of bottles of sweet rice wine, served in sake style porcelain cups. I was encouraged to drink as much as I desired.
Before long, we were heading back to the hotel, but not before stopping to look for discount-priced luggage in the Dongdaenam Wholesale Market. At 10:00 pm on a Sunday night, this district was hopping like Times Square on New Years Eve. Loud music blasted out of competing karaoke nightclubs onto the streets. Hundreds of vendors were set up, side by side along the curb as far as I could see. They sold shirts, pants, shoes, hats, fabrics, furniture, stereos, homemade food – everything!!
We parked and walked down crowded alleys and into a dimly lit warehouse building jammed with people, then down some greasy concrete stairs and to the back corner of the basement. We had found the luggage sales guy! He had stacks of all kinds of knock-off merchandise. Grandmaster Chung found a bag and haggled over the price for another five minutes. In the end, he had bought a pretty nice suitcase for about forty bucks.
We didn’t get back to the hotel until near midnight and it felt soooooo good to be sleeping in a Marriott.
Monday, June 24, 2002
Panmunjom DMZ
Camp Bonifas
North Korea
Kukkiwon
Poshin-Tang Restaurant
Fifty-two years ago on this day, more than a quarter million Soviet-supported troops from northern Korea were massing along the South Korean border in preparation for the invasion that would begin the Korean War.
Within four days, Seoul would be captured and three-fourths of South Korea would be lost. General Douglas MacArthur, still considered a hero here, launched a counter-attack at Inchon the following September, reclaiming Seoul. It would be lost again in January of 1951 and regained again in March.
For four years, the fighting continued, and millions of Koreans lost their lives. On November 17, 1954, a bilateral peace treaty was negotiated ceasing the killing, but not ending the war.
Today, North Korea and South Korea remain at war and only an agreement, establishing a Demilitarized Zone, keeps the two nations from continuing bloodshed. This DMZ at the 38th Parallel creates a scenario where combatants stand on either side of a line and stare at each other in a tenuous, scary, and at the same time, almost comic game of military chess. This place is called Panmunjom, named after the village that was destroyed at that location during the war.
This morning, after breakfast at the Lotte Hotel in downtown Seoul, Chung and I boarded a tour bus and were transferred up the Freedom Highway north and west along the Hangang River toward the border. The further north we went, the more signs there were that we were entering hostile territory. A tall fence wrapped in razorwire paralleled our highway for miles. Then there were two fences, and then three. Soon, there were military observation platforms every half mile.
Suddenly, our bus passed under a massive bridge-like structure called a “blast bridge”. It is a massive twenty-foot thick concrete block that sits above the highway on bridge supports. It is filled with explosives and can be detonated remotely – blocking the highway from potential enemy troop or vehicular traffic.
Next, were a series of blockade tripods that required our bus to slow down and serpentine around while under heavy camera observation.
Looking left and across the river were the rolling hills of North Korea. To our right, on top of a hill, was a massive scoreboard-like light system that South Korea uses to send propaganda to the other side. In the distance, on the left was a North Korean “fake village” – an entirely pretend village of beautiful homes and high-rises. Its purpose: to lure Koreans north of the border – to nirvana. Unfortunately, we could also see the blacked-out windows and total lack of people, which gave the whole thing away.
Our bus slowly approached Camp Bonifas at the “Alpha” checkpoint where an army sergeant came aboard and checked all of our passports. We were then waved across a bridge laden with explosives and manned by troops carrying automatic weapons to “Bravo” checkpoint.
At Bravo checkpoint, we were given a Hummer escort to a holding lot where we disembarked and boarded a JSA (United Nations Joint Security Area) shuttle bus. It was here that a U.N. tour guide pointed out my Territory Ahead twill pants, suggesting that they were denim and not permitted in the JSA (as explicitly designated by United Nations edict). I was permitted through by the skin of my teeth.
As the JSA bus pulled out, I noticed the cammo-colored water tower above us. It said, “Camp Bonifas – In Front Of Them All”. The base serves as primary residence of the United Nations Command Security Force – Joint Security Area and is only four hundred meters from the southern boundary of the DMZ. Fifteen hundred of the biggest and toughest soldiers in the world are assigned here, including a rapid assault force that can respond to a hot border situation in thirty-eight seconds.
Our JSA bus, with two armed guards on board, quickly arrived at Ballinger Hall where we were all briefed on the events leading up to the establishment of the DMZ at Panmunjom. Also, before we were permitted to continue, we were required to sign a Visitor’s Declaration document stating that we would not communicate with North Koreans in any way – pointing, waving, talking, or any other gestures which could be used as propaganda material against the United Nations Command. Finally, we were told that while we could take pictures at the JSA border, we were not permitted to take them while on the shuttle buses for fear of compromising bunker positions along the road leading up to the site.
We reboarded the bus as the rain began to pour. Staff Sergeant Smith joined us as our tour guide in the JSA. Initially intimidating, he loosened us up when he instructed us to pull out the Kevlar flack jackets from under our seats. Ha ha, real funny.
The bus slowly passed by a number of bunkers and razorwire fences. SSgt. Smith stopped the bus to show us where two ROK (Republic of Korea) soldiers were ambushed and killed by KPA (Korean People’s Army) commandos who had breached our border on one dark night in 1996.
This was not the first incident at the JSA.
In 1967, several KPA guards snuck into Camp Bonifas killing three United Nations soldiers and wounding twenty-four.
On August 18, 1976, a United Nations workforce began a routine tree-trimming on a poplar tree in South Korean territory near the "Bridge of No Return" at the border. A North Korean KPA lieutenant, with thirty troops in tow, demanded that they stop the trimming. Captain Arthur Bonifas, in charge of the workforce, ignored the order. Then the KPA lieutenant removed his watch, wrapped it in a handkerchief, placed it in his pocket and yelled, “Kill the Americans!!” The thirty North Korean troops gained control of the tree axes and killed Captain Bonifas and Lt. Barrett, hacking them beyond recognition.
Three days later came the implementation of “Operation Paul Bunyan”. With the support of two army divisions, twenty-eight attack helicopters, an entire navy fleet, and an F-4 phantom fighter group, a tree-cutting crew of sixty-four men returned to the tree to finish the job. Fifty of these men were the Republic of Korea’s finest martial artists – experts in hand to hand combat and personally selected by the South Korean President. In forty-five minutes, the tree was cut down – leaving a nine-foot high stump as a reminder of the incident.
Another incident occurred in 1984, when a Russian embassy translator defected by running across the border to asylum in a hail of gunfire. Seventeen KPA troops crossed the border in an attempt to kill the man. Three of them were killed. One United Nations soldier was killed. The defector survived.
Our bus passed beneath the blue UN DMZ border sign and we were soon at ground zero. We proceeded to Freedom House, a big granite welcome center building constructed only feet from the border. We were led to a two-story observation pagoda from which to view the tense situation.
From this point, maybe thirty feet from the border, we could see rows of powder blue metal buildings lined up side by side, each with one end in North Korea and one in South Korea. A foot-wide and one inch high strip of concrete demarcates the border, running like a ribbon between the buildings. On either side of the row of buildings are competing showplace welcome centers, both built of granite and concrete.
From this point, maybe thirty feet from the border, we could see rows of powder blue metal buildings lined up side by side, each with one end in North Korea and one in South Korea. A foot-wide and one inch high strip of concrete demarcates the border, running like a ribbon between the buildings. On either side of the row of buildings are competing showplace welcome centers, both built of granite and concrete.
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| The Observation Pagoda at the DMZ |
Each year, the UN sponsors approximately 75,000 visitors per year and North Korea only 9,000. A little known fact is that none of the North Korean side visitors are North Korean. They are all Chinese nationals here on vacation, rewarded for loyalty to the Communist regime. It would be too risky to allow North Koreans this close to the border.
Today we were lucky. A large group of Chinese tourists were viewing us from the other side of the border. They were all smiling and waving at us. We all stood there with our hands in our pockets.
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| North Korean soldiers smile for the camera |
From the pagoda, we walked back into the Freedom House, where we waited to enter the blue conference room buildings. For obvious reasons, neither side allows tour groups from both sides inside the conference buildings at the same time. Once given clearance, we hustled in the rain into one of the buildings, which was empty with the exception of one table straddling the boundary. We crowded around the table. SSgt. Smith wryly told half of our tour group standing on one side that they were in North Korea and the rest of us only had a “slight” chance of being killed.
He also pointed out the two ROK guards who were standing in their “rock ready” position watching us. These guards are selected based on size – indeed these two Koreans were at least six foot six inches tall. They stood in a very aggressive modified martial arts position and never moved an inch. They were made even more intimidating by the dark glasses they wore as a psychological weapon.
After twenty photos or so, I was ready to return to South Korea. We marched back to Freedom House, two by two.
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| Looking beyond the conference buildings into North Korea |
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Inside a conference building - Standing in North Korea |
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| Observation Point #5 and Bonifas Monument |
Our next stop was Observation Post #5. It is surrounded by North Korea on all sides, making it the most exposed and dangerous location along the DMZ. From here we could hear propaganda blasting toward us from North Korean speakers hidden in the bushes. There were also billboard signs that said, “Our general is better than yours!” and “Kim Jong Il: Rising Sun of the 21st Century.”
In the distance is Propaganda Village, a complete city built to advertise the greatness of North Korea. Unfortunately, it also has blacked-out windows and no residents. The village does boast a seven hundred foot tall flagpole on which a massive North Korean flag flies. The flag weighs six hundred pounds and must be taken down in heavy rain because the flag would come apart under its own weight when soaked.
From here, we could also see the location where the 1976 axe murder incident occurred, in front of the bridge of no return. We drove down to the bridge to get a closer look at the bridge before heading out of the JSA. It was here at this bridge that many exchanges of captured spies has taken place over the years.
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| The Bridge of No Return ... where Captain Arthur Bonifas and his work detail attempted to trim a tree on August 18, 1976. They were attacked by thirty North Koreans and were hacked to death with their own hatchets |
Our bus trudged away from the border, past rice patties, scattered brush, mounded bunkers, and more razorwire. We returned to the commissary at Camp Bonifas, where we ate a delicious American-style lunch of spaghetti and fried chicken. Then I went to the gift shop / local bar where everyone was glued to the TV set watching Brazil win its semifinal World Cup match.
As our bus pulled out of Camp Bonifas, we passed by what Sports Illustrated calls “The Most Dangerous Golf Hole In The World.” It is a 127 yard par 3 that officers can play in their free time. It is located only meters away from the DMZ. There are large signs warning players not to retrieve their balls from the rough. Mine fields surround the hole on three sides!
We returned to Seoul back through the same gauntlet of security and splashed past the World Cup Stadium on the north side of the capital.
After a brief stop at the Marriott, Grandmaster Chung and I proceeded to the Kukkiwon – World Taekwondo Federation Headquarters. Not far from the Marriott, in Kangnam-Gu, the Kukkiwon is a modern building, constructed in 1972. For being only thirty years old, it is quite worn, run-down, and mostly vacant. Maybe this reflected the state of affairs with the World Taekwondo Federation, which was experiencing organizational problems at the time.
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| We also stopped at Master Kim's do jang to meet with his students |
Grandmaster Chung walked right in and proceeded directly to the Deputy Secretary General’s office. The official stepped out and greeted Chung warmly and personally. The Grandmaster sat down with me and processed my paperwork for WTF black belt certification.
In celebration of this accomplishment, we went out for dinner at a restaurant that specializes in “poshin-tang”. This is a Korean delicacy that we know as dog meat. It was served to us in a simmering hot wok on a bed of steaming lettuce. The boiled meat is dipped in various chilies, spices, and mustards and eaten with the steamed lettuce. I found it to be tender but with heavy gristle and garlic.
On the wall next to our dining table was a large poster explaining that dog meat makes a person strong and sexually virile. It featured a picture of a boy with his arm around his pet dog.
I really wasn’t bothered by the notion of eating dog meat – until the next morning, after I had thought about it for a while.
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| "I'll have the Beagle special ..." |
Tuesday, June 25, 2002
Korean Folk Village
World Cup Craziness
For breakfast, we met with a friend of Grandmaster Chung’s, named Koe Woong Choung. He was a fellow Tang Soo Do student in Hwang Kee’s old gym in downtown Seoul. I asked him what level dan he was and he proudly showed me the now-familiar scarred knuckles of a grandmaster. These were callused knuckles from doing thousands of pushups and breaking hundreds of boards and bricks.
Very early photograph of two grandmasters sparring at
Hwang Kee's Central Station dojang. (Sun Swan Chung and Koe Woong Choung)
I was informed that Mr. Choung was in the import / export business selling Malaysian palm oil to food producers throughout Asia. (I didn't learn until much later, that he was President of the World Tang Soo Do Federation).
After breakfast, we went back to the Park family condo to pick up some paperwork from Mrs. Chung. Grandmaster Chung decided to get a haircut, so we walked up the alley to a neighbor lady who cuts hair out of her house. I sat behind and watched her television, which showed more World Cup soccer highlights over and over and over.
Master Kim picked us up in his Taekwondo company van and we drove thirty miles south of Seoul to the Korean Folk Village in Suwon. Here, there are over 240 historic homes, shops, and other attractions authentically reproduced in Chosun-dynasty villages. In fact, some of the buildings are authentic – having been moved here from other places in Korea.
Master Kim picked us up in his Taekwondo company van and we drove thirty miles south of Seoul to the Korean Folk Village in Suwon. Here, there are over 240 historic homes, shops, and other attractions authentically reproduced in Chosun-dynasty villages. In fact, some of the buildings are authentic – having been moved here from other places in Korea.
Usually packed with tourists on a gorgeous day like this, the place was desolate as most Koreans were making the trek to Seoul for the World Cup quarter-final game with Germany. Indeed, the red shirts were descending on Seoul in record numbers. Some estimated that four million fans will come to the city to take part in the festivities.
During the afternoon, I spent tying up loose ends. A took a “deluxe” taxi to the Seoul Hard Rock Café to pick up hats and pins. The restaurant itself was too crowded with red-shirted fanatics to enter. I only saw the gift shop.
I made a mercy visit to the nearby McDonalds to wash down the flavor of dog meat – which never seemed to leave my mouth. I returned to the Marriott and enjoyed a spartan room service dinner from Mikado Japanese Restaurant. Four pieces of sushi for sixty bucks!
Finally, a guiet evening watching the big match between Korea and Germany. Germany won the game 1 to 0. Korea can still be proud.
Wednesday, June 26, 2002
Seoul Olympic Village
Korea National University of Physical Education
Taekwondo Training
Inchon
Oido Fish Market
I laid in bed for a while and watched Tiger Woods play in the 2002 Deutsche Bank Open in Germany, with play by play by Korean television analysts. After two rounds, Tiger was three strokes back. It was the only down time I’ve had on the trip so far. It was great!! I eventually got up to pull the drapes open and was met with another perfect day in Seoul.
Seoul, Republic of Korea, is the heart of the country. It is a mixture of chic shopping districts, traditional markets, historic palaces, towering office buildings, crowded streets, and pulsating nightlife.
Historically, Seoul has been the capital for six hundred years. Its population is eleven million and climbing rapidly. It is amazing that this bustling modern city was in ashes less than fifty years ago after being invaded more than four times during the Korean War. But these memories seem forgotten when one walks down the wide avenues of the very busy commerce districts.
Seoul’s city center was built when the walled city that includes Gyeongbok Palace was placed beneath Nam-san mountain (900 feet). Several of the original gates to the city such as Namdae-mum (Great South Gate) and Tongdae-mum (Great East Gate) are still standing among the skyscrapers and streetside markets.
The President of the Republic of Korea lives in a high security residence behind Gyeongbok Palace called the Blue House. Security has been tight since January 21, 1968, when thirty-one North Korean commandos were caught just five hundred meters away from the residence. Their mission was to assassinate President Park Chung-hee. For obvious reasons, the Blue House is not open for tours.
Some consider the center of Seoul to be City Hall Plaza, the fountain square bounded by City Hall, the Plaza Hotel, and Toksu Palace. Today, in the center of the square is a giant rotating soccer ball more than fifty feet wide. This is where more than a million Korean soccer fans gathered to celebrate their country’s recent World Cup victories.
Other people believe that the center of Seoul is Myong-dong. An area of narrow alleys located a short walk from City Hall Plaza. Here is the largest Catholic Cathedral of the most Christianized Asian country in the world. On the other hand, directly across the street from the Cathedral is Midopa Department Store, the largest retail store in Korea.
Just south of this area by a mile or so is It’aewon, the center of Korean nightlife. This area has been given special tourist status – permitting the service of alcohol twenty-four hours a day. Koreans love the nightlife and enjoy discos and karaoke bars. I was warned that I might see a great deal of open drunkenness and rowdy behavior in Seoul, but I must say that I have seen very little evidence of it so far.
Several miles east of Seoul center, and south of the Hangang River in Seongnam City, is the Seoul Olympic Village. Seoul was host to the 1988 Summer Olympic Games. This morning, we rejoined our original tour group and proceeded to the Korea National University of Physical Education. The university is located adjacent to the Olympic Village.
The atmosphere surrounding our tour group was dour. To save money, the tour company had the group staying at temples and monasteries all over southern Korea. Their new accommodations at the Rainbow Hotel in Seoul were worse than the Kaya. Everyone was bitter about the entire experience – and the students from Orlando hadn’t even sparred with anyone yet. Today was the final full day of their tour and maybe, they might just get their wish.
We have come to train with Kook Hyun Jeong, five time Taekwondo World Champion and 1988 Olympic Gold Medalist in sparring. He is the only fighter to hold the title of world champion in four different weight divisions.
We have come to train with Kook Hyun Jeong, five time Taekwondo World Champion and 1988 Olympic Gold Medalist in sparring. He is the only fighter to hold the title of world champion in four different weight divisions.
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I came along as an observer today and would not work out because I was still bleeding slightly from what I think was a bruised kidney, obtained during the tumbling drills at the temple. We walked up five flights of stairs in a modern but terribly maintained university building. After taking off shoes, we stepped into a large open room with mirrors on two walls and windows along the others. The floor was a well worn dark wood surface. Around the perimeter were stretching bars – revealing that this room is used for dance as well as martial arts.
Students began stretching slowly and conversations evaporated as they began contemplating what was about to occur. Fifteen minutes late, in stepped Professor Kook Hyun Jeong in a simple white Adidas dobok and unadorned black belt that had turned gray and had started to fray from constant use.
Professor Jeong recognized Grandmaster Chung immediately and asked Chung to make a few comments to start class as a measure of honor and respect. Then Jeong made a few points, in excellent English, before handing the class over to a junior instructor for warm-ups.
After a half-hour of progressively more difficult stretching, students went into a series of kicking drills. Professor Jeong finally got up after a long and seemingly pleasant conversation with Grandmaster Chung and began stretching in the corner. He looked lean and graceful – like a champion racehorse. His moves were loose and easy, reflecting the amazing level of fitness for a guy approaching forty-five years old.
The professor stepped in and the class began in earnest. He began with basic sparring kicking techniques, followed by an introduction of the five basic blocking and evasion techniques. Then he worked on evasion-blocking and counterattack combinations. He would explain the movements first and then demonstrate them, step by step. Finally, he would repeat the technique at full speed with mindblowing precision and quickness. Nobody in the room, even the most accomplished master black belts, could replicate his movements.
At the same time, Professor Jeong was very patient with his students, helping them improve their technique without being insulting or overbearing.
The class ran thirty minutes late and the students were grateful that the professor was giving them so much of his attention. When the class finished, Professor Jeong gladly stood for dozens of photos with every student.
We walked across campus and ate lunch at the student cafeteria. The food was very western – chicken fried steak with gravy. Knives and forks were used by everyone also. The student convenience store carried Mountain Dew, but it had a different name – “High Mountain”.
After lunch, two students from the Orlando dojang began their physical testing for black belt on the running track outside the student union. The rest of us all went along to watch. Master Hoene had them do one hundred pushups and sit ups and then run five miles. During this run, the testing students were randomly attacked by the master and his black belt wife. This aspect of the testing seemed trite and meaningless. Everybody watching laughed.
Suddenly, a man walked up behind us. It was Master Moon – the legendary Master Moon who had taught at Chungs dojang the summer before I began studying there. He is vividly remembered by those who saw him. He is big – at least six foot three inches tall. More important, he is incredibly fast. It was rumored that Master Moon was the only person to defeat Master Choi in full contact sparring. His youthful looks and easy-going manner belied the warrior within. Only a barely-noticeable one-inch scar beneath his left eye hinted that he was a fighter.
Master Moon came to pick us up and deliver us to the Park family condo. During the ride, he happily signed a copy of his college thesis on high school Taekwondo injuries for me. After a short ride and a quick handshake, he was gone.
The afternoon was spent doing a few return errands to the Kukkiwon and Sang Moo Sa store. We used the Seoul subway to get around. I found it to be neat, clean, and fast – a great way to go!
For dinner, we joined Mrs. Chung, her sister-in-law, the local acupuncturist, and a friend of Chung’s – Professor Nam. He was also a Taekwondo master and an Executive Director for the Kukkiwon, who traveled the globe demonstrating his martial skills for audiences worldwide and has performed for dignitaries such as Prince Rainier of Monaco, the King of Morocco, and President Putin of Russia. He has also performed at previous Michigan Cup tournaments for Grandmaster Chung. He attended Yonghi University and is Master Kim’s senior.
We all jumped into the acupuncture van and drove south and west through Suwon to Inchon. It was a beautiful drive through the mountains as they stood as silhouettes in an orange dusk sky.
It was dark when we pulled into the Oido Fishmarket. We entered the “Sesame Surprise” sashimi restaurant. First, we walked into a big warehouse space, very well lit, with hundreds of fish tanks filling the room. We pointed at a selection of live fish and then went upstairs to a private dining room with long low tables. We sat on the floor and within minutes, huge plates of very, very fresh sashimi arrived. Then there were more plates of steamed and boiled fish – including squid. Then huge pots of fish soup, the broth tasting like lobster, were served. We all drank rice wine and ate until we were rolling around in agony. It was a fabulous meal!!
On the way home, we stopped at the neighborhood amusement park and watched people enjoying themselves along the boardwalk to the Eastern Sea.
Not far away, we stopped at a park on the top of a hill surrounding Inchon. Here, there is a monument to General Douglas MacArthur. It was at Inchon on September 28, 1950, that MacArthur launched a major surprise attack on invading North Korean troops, outflanking them, saving Seoul, and turning the tide in the Korean War. A huge MacArthur statue stands tall on the mountain overlooking the busy commerce that goes on today in Inchon Harbor.
We finally cruised into the hotel at midnight. I was tired, sleepy and absolutely stuffed.
Thursday, June 27, 2002
Gyeongbok Palace
National Folklore Museum of Korea
Insa Dong
Gana Art Shop
Korea is an intriguing clash of cultures and ideologies. Koreans try to hold onto many ancient traditions while adopting many western values. Those living in the urban economic centers enjoy and cling to the principles of capitalism while those in the countryside decry the need for unification with North Korea (at any cost) and demand the creation of a single Korean nation. These people appeared in force today on the streets of Seoul. Spontaneous demonstrations popped up throughout the city. The AFN (Armed Forces Television Network) alerted all Americans to be vigilant of activities and not to go outside in public unless necessary.
I immediately headed for downtown Seoul.
Master Kim picked us up bright and early with the bright yellow company van and we crossed the Hangang River (again) on the way to the Gyeongbok Palace. Near the Dongdaenum Market we passed by the Tongdae-mum Gate to the ancient walled city that existed on this site.
Gyeongbok Palace was the governmental heart of the old walled city and was the residence of Emperor T’aejo and his successors until 1592 when it burned down during a war with Japan. It was rebuilt in 1867.
The palace and its surrounding walled city looks amazingly similar to the Forbidden City in Beijing, China. It is a maze of walls and of gates that connect several large structures – each with a particular purpose or function. The most beautiful and elaborate of these structures is the Gyeongheru (Hall of Happy Meetings). It is a two-story banquet hall that extends over one end of a spacious square pond. The hall was built according to Confucian design with three overlapping rectangular rooms. It also features both round and square pillars representing heaven and earth respectively.
The building and setting are so beautiful that they are engraved on the back of the 10,000 won currency note.
Here, we met with an English-speaking tour guide named Young-Joo Jung, who escorted us through the grounds and into the National Folklore Museum of Korea. We were treated to excellent informational displays of ancient Korean artifacts and dioramas of the country’s way of life centuries ago.
During a break, Grandmaster Chung discovered that he and the tour guide are distantly related. He noted that the family name can vary in English from Chung to Jung to Cheong to Jeung.
The geographical center of the old city is located southeast of the palace at Insa Dong. It is a neighborhood that is now filled with fashionable antiques and art galleries. We ate lunch there at a very nice open-air restaurant. I had “bi-bim-pap” a gulash of rice, raw egg, meat and vegetables served in a searing hot metal bowl. When I mixed the egg into the rice, the bowl itself cooked the egg. It was delicious, like Mongolian barbeque. Probably the best meal of the trip.
After lunch, Grandmaster Chung and I split up and shopped on our own. As I walked through Insa Dong, many people would approach and talk to me to practice their English. One young lady asked to take a survey for the Seoul Department of Tourism.
I continued looking for antiques and artwork to send home. There were many great stores to choose from. I purchased a limited-edition bronze sculpture from the Gana Art Shop. It weighed forty pounds and would cost a fortune to ship home. In addition, I bought a three-hundred year old Yi Dynasty saddle from the Jang Saeng Ho Antiques Shop. The saddle, complete with reigns and stirrups, belonged to a nobleman and is outfitted with sterling silver trim. It sat front and center in his antiques shop window. I asked the elderly husband and wife owners if they could ship to the U.S. and they nodded and mumbled “yes, yes” then they threw the saddle into a box and handed it to me. Then I told them that I would like it shipped and very embarrassed, they hurriedly wrapped it in paper and tied rope around it…and then handed it to me. I decided to take it to the hotel and ship it.
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| Gyeongbok Palace |
I stepped outside the antiques shop with heavy package in tow and grabbed the nearest cab. The ride back to the hotel took more than an hour in gridlock conditions, but the cab fare was a cheap eight bucks.
The folks at the Marriott Business Center were great and got the saddle on its way home via DHL Express.
Attached to and behind the hotel is a designer shopping mall. I looked for items for the kids but could not find anything I liked except for Kentucky Fried Chicken – where I ordered a sandwich and Diet Coke.
I returned to the room and repacked the laundry that had arrived from the cleaners and got dressed for dinner. Full business attire.
Mr. K.W. Choung picked us up at the hotel and took us to Chungdam Yongsusan (a traditional Korean restaurant). The place was obviously a top-shelf restaurant – a place for important business meetings. Nearly everyone was dressed in business suits. Valet parking out front. Even the chopsticks were heavy sterling silver. We were served a fourteen course meal. It was almost like tapas or dim sum. Small portions of wonderfully prepared items such as sautéed mushrooms in ginger sauce, jelly fish with pears, brochette of raw squid with gingko, marinated beef with dipping mustard, and fish eye soup. It was topped off with a wonderful rice wine. The three of us enjoyed a superb meal and great conversation.
Returning to the hotel, we found Professor Nam waiting for us in the lobby. He came to pay respects one more time to Grandmaster Chung and give us his best wishes. He also brought me a copy of his latest book and signed it for me. Grandmaster Chung garners a tremendous amount of respect among those who know Taekwondo in Korea. Throughout our entire trip, he has been shown a great deal of attention and courtesy.
Friday, June 28, 2002
Asan City
Dogo Country Club
Hot Baths
Asan Bay Bridge
I'Taewon Shopping District
Another fabulous blue-sky morning in Seoul at 4:30 am. A perfect day for golf. Tiger Woods put away Colin Montgomerie after two holes of sudden death at the 2002 Deutsche Bank Open.
I pulled my golf shoes out of the bottom of my luggage, along with two golf gloves I had stuffed in a side pocket. I headed out to meet Grandmaster Chung in the lobby but he met me in the elevator in full suit and tie and carrying a gym bag. I asked if I needed to change clothes but he said no. Then he said, “I bring change of clothes because will feel so good after our public bath”. Excuse me. Did he say “public bath”?
A taxi brought us to the Park family condo once more where Mr. Park would drive us about ninety minutes south toward Asan City to a private golf club. There, we would meet a family relative and member of the club who hosted us as guests.
Before leaving, I had the opportunity to talk with Mrs. Park. She asked me for my birth date, time of birth, and year of birth. With this information, using numerology, she then told me my fortune. She said that between the ages of 47 and 56, I will become very rich and make “mountains” of money. Then she said that after the age of 56, I would need to be careful and guard my money. With that, she smiled and waved goodbye.
We drove in the acupuncture van again this morning. I hadn’t noticed it before, but there were six acupuncture needles of various shapes and sizes stuck into the passenger visor. I carefully scanned the back seat and floor – just in case.
We were running early so Mr. Park drove us over the Asan Bay Bridge. It is almost exactly the same length as the Mackinaw Bridge, but it is newer and built mostly of concrete. It is certainly more beautiful than most of our bridges.
We continued heading south on narrow roads, winding through the rice patties. Like so many patties in Korea, old ladies on their hands and knees were using hand implements to work the crops.
Suddenly, we pulled over a hill and came upon the Hyundai Assembly Plant at Asan City. A huge facility, Hyundai builds millions of cars here and ships them all over the world. The usually full finished car lot was only half-full. The anemic worldwide economy having an effect here.
About five miles away, we pull under the portico of the Dogo Country Club. It is a nice facility – not as nice as most private clubs in the USA - but certainly a step above the majority of public courses.
Without warm-ups, we proceeded to the first tee. There are many things different about this course than those at home, for example: female caddies are dressed in fancy pant suits with matching hats. Rubber mats (just like at a driving range) are embedded into the grass tees. There are no golf carts, all members walk. The ranger rides around the course on a motorcycle and stops to direct traffic periodically. There are no areas of rough but every hole is lined with out-of-bounds stakes on both sides. Since the course is built on the side of a mountain, long drives tend to feed from side to side, and many times, right off the sloped fairways and over the cliffs.
A unique rule of golf at this club is the use of “OB Tee”. When a drive goes out of bounds, the player goes to a special tee located halfway up the fairway and hits from there, rather than from the original tee. This generous rule helps unfortunate players and speeds the pace of play.
On the first tee there is a little bucket with four sticks inside. Players draw to determine the tee-off order. I chose number one and hit first. Using an old set of Lynx clubs with regular shafts, I tried to swing slowly. My feet slipped on the rubber mat, almost causing me to fall on my butt. Still, I hammered a drive almost three hundred yards down the hard, bent-grass fairway, almost driving the green.
Then I learned another golf custom here. After every shot, no matter how good or bad, everyone says “ny-eese shut” immediately after contact. At first I thought is was strange, then I started enjoying saying it too.
I parred that first hole and then bogeyed the next. I got to use “OB Tees” on the fourth and fifth holes. The conditions were so dry and I was hitting it so long that my drives were often outrunning the fairways.
One of the lady caddies told Grandmaster Chung that she really liked me and wanted me to be her boyfriend. Later, I posed for pictures with the caddies and she ran her hand up and down the back of my leg. You can actually see it in one of the photos.
I birdied two holes scoring an 85 but in the end, it wasn’t enough to beat one of the other golfers who carded an 84.
As I was standing behind the eighteenth green, totaling the scorecard, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, my golf partners practically running toward the locker room. They got undressed and sprinted for the public bath. I was more hesitant. When I finally walked into the pool area, thirty pairs of eyes were looking at my hairy chest and other selected parts. Without my glasses, all I could see were a bunch of dark heads in the giant 105 degree hot tub. I almost stepped right in until I noticed the showers around the perimeter of the room. I barely avoided a huge breach of etiquette.
I tried to maintain my composure and dignity while I showered in preparation for the bath. To preserve some shred of privacy, I washed while facing the wall. I eventually walked over and plopped into the pool. Five guys immediately got out. In only moments, the spa had emptied except for our foursome. Was it something I said?
After about ten minutes, Grandmaster Chung challenged me to jump into the adjacent pool. This pool was the same size as the one I was in and looked to be the same. Little did I know that the temperature in that pool was 37 degrees. I unwittingly jumped in. Every body part immediately shrunk to half-size. I curled up into a ball, hoping not to die of shock. After a few moments, however, it started to feel pretty good.
I showered again, got dressed, and we headed back toward Seoul. Sitting in the back seat of the car, my muscles really felt good after that cold dip.
The three of us stopped for dinner at a roadside greasy spoon (or should I say chopstick?) in the shadow of the Asan Bay Bridge. We shared a giant bowl of seafood noodle soup. Man, it was good.
We crawled back into Seoul in the midst of rush hour traffic. Mr. Park dropped us off at the hotel where we exchanged pleasantries, thanks, and goodbyes.
A few minutes later, Grandmaster Chung and I caught a taxi and headed to the I’taewon Shopping District to pick up some last minute gifts for family and friends. The main street of I’taewon is about a half-mile long and lined with every imaginable high-end store you could think of. Making it more fun, the sidewalks are covered with street vendors selling all kinds of knick-knacks at dirt-cheap prices.
There is squid being grilled at the curb and Versace being sold in a store only feet apart.
I noticed a greater presence of Americans here than any other place on my trip. They appeared to be primarily military personnel on their day off.
I was solicited to be fitted for a suit by at least four different tailors and I was solicited for sex by a Korean woman in front of the Kentucky Fried Chicken. I took none of their offers.
I picked up a kimono for Laura at a custom dress shop and two bootleg Playstation 2 games from a street vendor for five bucks each.
We returned to the hotel to find Master Kim waiting for us with gifts of appreciation. We sat with him for a half-hour at the cocktail lounge and reflected on this fabulous trip. He gave me a dobok from his school and a custom-embroidered black belt with my name on it – in Korean. We promised to stay in touch over the internet.
It was midnight when I got to bed. I left the curtains open so I could see the lovely skyline of Seoul all night.
Saturday, June 29, 2002
Inchon Airport
Return Home
I was in the lobby of the Marriott with my bags, having checked out before 6:45 am. A 24-hour mini-mart next door to the hotel provided me with dried squid jerky to take home to the kids.
Suddenly, Grandmaster Chung came downstairs and said that his passport was missing. After fifteen harrowing minutes, he found it under the bed in his room. Crisis averted.
An assistant of Master Kim kindly shuttled us to the Inchon Airport. There, we ran into Master Kim once again. He was at the airport to meet a friend arriving from Malaysia for the Gyeongju Taekwondo Championships.
So many people have gone out of their way to take care of us on this adventure. The recognition of Grandmaster Chung’s 9th Dan status is palpable with every master who greets us. I have benefited greatly from this hospitality.
At the airport, there was extremely high security. We passed through no less than four screenings and had to take our shoes off twice by the time we boarded.
Northwest flight 008 was wheels up at 11:25. One more meal of bulgogi on the flight to Japan.
We waited at the flight club above the gate at Narita Airport. The first thing that I noticed was the presence of fat Americans. Thinking back, I saw almost no overweight people in Korea.
Our next leg, Northwest flight 86 was delayed an hour with computer problems. So once the problem was fixed, they added more fuel so we could fly faster and make up some time. We flew further south than the way we took to Korea. We made landfall near Seattle and came into Detroit over Minneapolis and Green Bay, Wisconsin. Wheels hit the runway at 3:19 pm after fifteen hours of flying.
On the drive home from Detroit, Tam called me in the car to inform us that the North Koreans had attacked a South Korean navy vessel only one hundred miles off shore from the Inchon Airport at the exact moment we were taking off from there. Grandmaster Chung told me that it must have been the “northwind” again. He reminded me that South Korean elections were in one week and incidents like this have a funny way of happening just before election time to scare voters into hanging onto incumbents. The current ROK President is a friend of North Korea and perhaps this event was timed to give him more credibility and take the attention away from his two sons who had been involved in bribery and other corrupt activities lately.
I pulled into the driveway at 6:30 pm. The kids came out and gave me big hugs and kisses.
It was great to be home.
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| A statue of a 6th century Hearing Warrior from the kingdom of Silla. Scholars believe that these warriors established the foundations for modern martial arts in Korea today. (Note: As I typed this journal, I was informed of the passing of Grandmaster Hwang Kee on Sunday, July 14th 2002, at 7:05 pm. The passing of two legendary kwan founders - General Choi Hong Hi and Hwang Kee in the past month bring to a close an important chapter in the history of Tae Kwon Do. Only Won Kook Yi, 102 year-old founder of the Chung Do Kwan, survives.) Around The World With The Olin Family |