Beautiful Beans

(Sunday, November 12)

Korean Ajumas really know what they're doing.  Translated literally, ajuma means "lady."  For me, however, an ajuma is one of the countless old women on the street that pedal their meager produce or durables.  These old ladies know that they must sell their good where people congregate, so they set up shop at bus stops, on the downtown strip, near crosswalks and supermarkets.  They even set up at the tourist hot spots. 

Let me elaborate.

I decided to hike to the top of Gatbawi Rock, a place that I have been yearning to visit for some months now.  The weather Saturday morning was really good, so I decided to catch the bus into the mountains.  I knew the hike was a popular one among the citizenry of Daegu (and Korea for that matter), but I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

The Mount Si Trail, just outside of Seattle is one of the most popular hiking trails in the country.  I've hiked it on several occasions and on one trip, I decided to count the amount of people coming down as I was hiking up.  I counted three hundred forty-three, amazed at the number of people on that beautiful Washingtonian day.  In South Korea, however, I have found a new meaning to the term 'a crowded trail.' 

I arrived at the Gatbawi trailhead about noon and didn't linger long before heading up.  The amount of people hiking up the rock astonished me!  There must have been a thousand people on the rock at the same time as I.  After all, the bus I had taken contained roughly forty souls and they come every ten minutes.  So I estimate that roughly 1700 people came and went between the hours of 7am and 2pm.  And this figure doesn't even include people that arrived via private transportation!

As I neared the summit of Gatbawi Rock, I began to hear a Buddhist chanting.  I couldn't figure it out until I reached the top of the Rock, but as soon as I summitted, I realized that I hadn't been hiking--I had been taking part in a Buddhist pilgrimage.  I expected to reach a rocky cluster of megalithic stones atop the peak, but instead, I found an immense carved Buddha with hundreds of pilgrims praying to the rock.  There were cartloads of vegetables and fruits for offering and incense burned at the foot of the statue.  The entire top of Gatbawi Rock was a paved pavillion blanketed in prayer rugs for the pilgrims.  It was a really awe-inspiring moment--towering above the city of Daegu amongst such an interesting cultural event.  Once I had experienced my fill of culture, I headed off the Rock down another trail, hoping to find a Y that would take me to the neighboring peak.  I hiked down the otherside for several kilometers before I realized that I had been going in the wrong direction.  But, if I hadn't gone that way, I wouldn't have found my beautiful beans.

Mind you, not magic beans, they were beautiful beans.  An ajuma had set up shop on the side of the trail with here wares spread out on a carpet.  She was selling baskets of flowers, beans and some lettuce.  She knew what she was doing.  She found a place to set up her carpet that would be passed by more people than had she set up on a downtown street!

I double-took when I saw her beans.  They were beautiful!  She had three baskets of beans--all of mixed types.  They were all different colors--indigo, purple, blue, brown, red.  It was a rainbow in a basket.  I had to buy them.  I couldn't resist.  I now have them displayed in a bowl in my apartment.  I'm hoping to dry them so that I can keep them forever. 

After buying my beans, I hiked all the way back up the rock and commenced in getting myself completely lost in a maze of hermitage trails.  Which was absolutely amazing.  I found myself finding these out of the way temples and hermitage sites.  One was in the bottom of an extremely steep-sided ravine.  There was only one person praying at the shrine and when I arrived, I must have looked very awed because the attending monk winked at me and clasped his hand with a welcoming bow.

I found a lunch spot at a rock outcropping.  It was a really beautiful spot.  I was all alone, away from the crowds with nothing but the autumn colors to keep me company.  High above me, atop the Rock, I could hear the baritone beating of a wooden percussion instrument, while below me, deep in a ravine, was the loud, slow chanting of a monk.  The two sounds complemented each other in a peaceful cacophony. 

The only reason I left was because the sun was setting.  I'll have to go back for a few reasons.  One, I need to find the trail to the neighboring peak.  Two, I want more of the busy solitude that I can find only at a place so peacefully crowded as Gatbawi Rock.  And maybe when I go back the next time, some high-altitude ajuma will sell me something as inspiring as my beautiful beans.

Korean lanterns adorning the ceiling of a Gatbawi temple.

Buddhists praying to the Buddha atop Gatbawi Rock.  Korean Buddhists believe that the Bhudda (or the Dharma or something like that)  will grant you one wish if you pray at Gatbawi.  You only get one Gatbawi wish per lifetime. 

Fruit offerings and donations of money clinging to the rock as the Buddha watches.

Incense offerings for the Buddha atop Gatbawi Rock. 

The high-elevation trees have already lost their leaves.

A donation to the temple gets you your name on a roof tile.

My lunch spot high above the autumn colors amongst the hilltop rocks in the left of the picture.

2006.  About Us.

Contact.