After ten exhausting days and 2,600 kilometers, I've given up driving. But I am very glad to have spent time on the road - my first-ever drive on the Eurasian landmass, and one that took me to lots of different Buddhist sites and art.
Now that it's less hectic, it's time to start sharing the spoils of my hard work. I'll start with things that are related to our transgender matron saint. These photos are only a small teaser of tons of great art photos I've taken during the road trip.
Before I start, however, let me introduce you to my travel companion. This is a silver 2006 Hyundai Sonata N20, which is as common and anonymous as any car can get in South Korea. The N20 trim denotes that the car has a 2.0L gasoline engine, which powers almost all domestic market Sonatas. By contrast, the US-market Sonata starts at 2.4L.
With this car, Hyundai becomes the first manufacturer whose cars I've gotten to drive on two different continents.
Also, this is also the first car that I ever get to name. I will refer to it as Gwaneum Zero. Gwaneum, of course, is the Korean pronunciation of Kwan Yin. Gwaneum One will be the Hyundai Genesis that I'll buy when I return to the US next month. Its future replacements will be Gwaneum Two, Gwaneum Three, and so on.
In this photo, I've just taken possession of Gwaneum Zero, and have brought her to my Seoul apartment, so that I can load her up and get going. Here are some specifications for her:
- 16-inch wheels
- 4-wheel disc brakes with ABS
- 4-speed automatic transmission
- Heated leather front seats
- CD player with MP3
- Fog lights
- Trip computer
- Dual-zone climate control
- Power folding mirrors, power windows, power locks
- Full-size spare tire and tool kit - just like BMWs costing over twice as much
- South Korean governmental fuel economy rating of 10.7 kilometers per liter, combined. South Korea uses the old US EPA test simulating 1970s Los Angeles; multiply by about 2.5 for a ballpark figure in miles per US gallon.
One downside: South Korean rental cars can get quite high-mileage. Gwaneum Zero already has 85,000 kilometers (53,000 miles) on it. But given that South Korea sees almost no violent crimes, and that the nation is compact enough that roadside assistance can reach you anytime and anywhere in a hurry, it's not as bad as it sounds. At least I rented from the nation's most reputable rental agency (Kumho Rent-A-Car, which is a Hertz franchisee and owned by Asiana Airlines), so roadside assistance is excellent, and the car is maintained well enough that breakdown is unlikely anyway. As you know, a Hyundai with 50,000 miles on it used to be a pile of junk, but now it's much better than a Chrysler or a Ford with 50,000 miles on it, and feels good as new - in fact, Hyundai's US warranty is now 60,000 miles for the whole car, and 100,000 miles for the engine and the transmission.
If I really want to pinch pennies, I can even specify a previous-generation Hyundai Sonata, with even higher odometer readings, for a discount, though that's more than I can take. At least all cars are reservable by make, model, and fuel type (gasoline, diesel, and liquid propane gas), and all cars at this rental agency come with automatic transmission and unlimited kilometers.
In fact, if you want to save money, take a diesel-powered car, as diesel costs slightly less than gasoline, is available at every gas station, and is far more efficient, though you'll probably suffer on the expressways. LPG is dirt-cheap, clean, and common, but inefficient, and must be bought at designated charging stations; it also tends to kill your trunk space, and explodes and fries you when your car gets rear-ended. Don't rent fancy foreign cars (BMWs, etc.), as they are prohibitively expensive, and require premium gasoline, which can only be found in major cities.
I am visiting Naksansa, a temple on the eastern coastline dedicated to Kwan Yin. Naksansa is located in the township of Yangyang, a 4-hour drive east of Seoul.
This fairly tall statue (about 60 feet) proves the point. Her name is Haesugwaneum (Seawater Kwan Yin), and she stands on top of a cliff overlooking the Sea of Japan (or as the Koreans prefer to call it, the East Sea), facing east and greeting sunrise.
It's an awe-inspiring sight. I went up to the offering box, put in a 1,000-won (70 US cents) banknote, and asked Kwan Yin to send her mercy to me as I continue to drive away on US interstates.
This is Naksansa's Gwaneumjeon (Hall of Kwan Yin), which is unusual. Normally, a Gwaneumjeon houses a gold-plated statue of Kwan Yin. But this one doesn't. Instead, it has a glass roof to the rear, so that when you walk up to the altar (open door), Haesugwaneum statue, visible in the upper left corner here, simply towers over, and looks down at you through the glass roof.
I also visited a point an hour north of Yangyang. I am at the Unification Observatory, the northernmost point in South Korea, with a great view of North Korea's scenic Diamond Mountains. A number of religious figures stare north and pray for a peaceful unification of the Korean peninsula, and among them is this Kwan Yin.
This place is so far up to the north, that I am north of the Civilian Limit Line. To get here, it was necessary to do some simple paperwork, stating my name, passport number, local address and telephone, and vehicle information. Even then, they managed to guide me to a wrong road - which would've blasted me right through South Korean immigration, the Southern Limit Line (end of South Korean jurisdiction), the inter-Korean border, and into North Korea, causing a major international incident. North Korea is already pissed about South Korea's current right-wing government, and will find any excuse to pick a fight with both South Korea and the US.
A long drive (six hours from Yangyang, to be exact) brought me down to the ancient thousand-year capital of Gyeongju, in southeastern South Korea. I stayed at the luxurious Hilton, and while my room came with the requisite Gideons Bible, it also came with a Korean/English Buddhist scripture book, reflecting Gyeongju's strong Buddhist heritage.
The next morning, I started off at Bulguksa (Temple of Buddhist Kingdom), the nation's most famous temple. This is the back side of Daeungjeon (Hall of Great Hero), the main hall; it's a close-up of Kwan Yin riding a blue tiger. I don't know what the significance of blue tiger is in Korean mythology, though a blue
dragon is traditionally the king.
I walked toward the far right corner of the temple. This sign, from the Korea Tourism Authority and the Korea Buddhist History Society, hangs on Bulguksa's own Gwaneumjeon. It states that among the thirty-three pilgrimage sites to Kwan Yin scattered throughout South Korea, this spot is No. 23.
And here's a good look at the rest of Gwaneumjeon, as a monk shows his devotion to her inside.
It's absolutely forbidden to shove my camera inside, so I had to keep my distance. Here's a description of the gold-plated Kwan Yin statue inside. She has a feminine hourglass body shape, but her torso is masculine, with nearly flat breasts. Her robe has a very open bodice front, and her torso - including her nipples - are exposed.
Christy, I tell you again - I don't want you getting any sick ideas from this description!
Nearby signs remind me that Kwan Yin has the ability to grow a thousand arms and hands, as well as eleven faces, in order to better do her work.
Later in the day, I am driving into downtown Gyeongju. Right now, I am visiting Bunhwangsa, another temple just southeast of downtown. Aside from a partial restoration of a brick pagoda, there is little standing here. But I was very inspired by this sight. Stacked rocks, placed there for good luck, surround the rather small statue of a seated Kwan Yin, who, in this application, is certainly NOT guilty of indecent exposure.
Let me backtrack for a minute. Before I headed for downtown, I drove another 5 miles from Bulguksa, over a treacherous mountain road, to reach Seokguram, a very famous grotto. It's a 20-minute drive; my alternative was a 1.5-mile steep walk taking 50 minutes.
In the very back of that grotto is this image of the Eleven-Faced Kwan Yin.
This is a replica whose photo I took at a private museum elsewhere in the city. At the real grotto, I am not allowed to enter the interior of the grotto itself, nor take any photos. All I can do is watch the whole thing through a glass wall.
I also spent lots of time and took lots of photos when I got to the city's National Museum, with free admissions for this year.
Here's a fairly tall (10 feet) statue of the Eleven-Faced Kwan Yin. The other ten faces grow from her crown.
Also at the museum: two bodhisattva statues. The left is generic, while the right is a Kwan Yin, only a few inches tall.
A bodhisattva is basically a Buddha-in-training, someone who has gained some enlightenment and has some of the powers of a Buddha, but not quite there yet. All Buddhas are male, and so are all bodhisattvas. At least they originally were. Then China decided that Kwan Yin should be female instead, creating the one and only (transgender) female bodhisattva.
Also at the National Museum. The museum owned the head of this Kwan Yin for decades. But the body remained half-buried on a nearby mountainside for years. In 1997, it was determined that the head and the body came from the same statue, so the two were mated together and erected on the museum grounds.
Many of her features have worn away, but the few remaining features do identify her as Kwan Yin.
A few miles to the south of the museum, there is a series of hills with lots of hiking opportunities. I took one of the hills' rugged trails.
This is a Kwan Yin carved into a boulder, about as tall as me.
These hills are strewn with Buddhist relics all over. And every one of them has an enclosed altar where the faithful light candles, make offerings, and pray.
Time to leave Gyeongju and spend 13 hours driving back to Seoul (including rest stops, and sightseeing at three Buddhist temples).
This is the first of the three temples. It's Haeinsa, located 1 1/2 hours west of Gyeongju, and most famous as the home of Tripitaka Koreana. Temperature is well below freezing this morning, and I had to walk a mile from my car to get here. It's brutal.
This is Haeinsa's Gwaneumjeon. It's kind of plain, but that's the way I like it. Unfortunately, I can't take a look inside, or even approach the building.
About an hour to the north, there is Jikjisa, my second temple stop. It's located exactly halfway between Seoul and the southeastern extreme corner of Busan, the nation's largest port city. This is a fairly well-appointed temple, and as it is off the beaten path, it's quite nice in its ambience.
Here is Jikjisa's Gwaneumjeon, with a glimpse of its own gold-plated Kwan Yin. Again, she has plunging necklines and exposed masculine breasts, though fortunately, her nipples are covered. She also sports a lovely necklace.
Another hour north, and getting closer to Seoul (though still two hours away at least), is Beopjusa, the most unique temple I've ever visited. Here's Beopjusa's own Hall of Kwan Yin, though its name is not the typical Gwaneumjeon. It is, in this application, called Wontongbojeon.
Unfortunately, it's closed too, and I can't get a look at my matron saint.
The banner across the front does say, however, that Kwan Yin has been given a new gold plating.
A look at Beopjusa's courtyard, with a tall 5-story wooden pagoda to the left (the tallest pagoda in South Korea, and the last surviving wooden pagoda in the nation) and a 100-foot Maitreya Buddha in the center. Again, this is the most unique temple I've seen, and I loved being here.
You may ask where Kwan Yin is in this photo. Look right; there is a peak behind the Maitreya. It rises 985 meters above sea level (not all that tall, as the courtyard is already several hundred meters above sea level). The peak's name is Gwaneumbong (Kwan Yin Peak). A few altars exist at its base.
An entry gate of Beopjusa has this interesting wooden statue of Kwan Yin guarding the temple. Interestingly, she sports a mustache. She also rides an elephant - and you know I hate elephants due to their status as a symbol of a certain American political party.
Several days later, the day before I returned Gwaneum Zero to the rental agency, I took her over to the large island of Ganghwa, on the Yellow Sea coast and an hour from Seoul. While Ganghwa can be accessed by a pair of bridges from the mainland, another large island to the west of it, Seongmo, requires a ferry ride. It cost 2,000 won (USD $1.40) for me, and another 14,000 won (USD $10) for Gwaneum Zero, to reach the island, and visit its Buddhist temple - Bomunsa.
Here is an altar made of a grinding stone. You can see baby monk figurines, Buddhas, and even a statue of harubang (phallic human figurine made of volcanic rock) from faraway Jeju Island. But most importantly, on the lower right, there is a lovely Kwan Yin portrait.
Bomunsa itself is yet another temple dedicated to Kwan Yin.
By now, I've seen so many turtle tombstones around South Korea that they no longer look exotic at all. But this one, also at Bomunsa, is special. Its head is that of a monster I can't identify. More importantly, it also states that I am headed for yet another Kwan Yin pilgrimage site.
This turtle tombstone guards the entrance to a long staircase that starts at the back of the temple courtyard. It is a 419-step climb to the pilgrimage site, or about 30 stories. And it's already been another 30-story steep hike to the courtyard already. Try climbing a 60-story skyscaper on foot in a hurry!
This is the pilgrimage site. Yet another image of Kwan Yin. This one is fairly recent - it dates from only 1928 - and it's more symbolic and less artistic. Kwan Yin looks very genderless here. As she is being scrubbed, I am not allowed to enter the altar area, and must suffice with this view.
This tuxedo cat is Kwan Yin's companion here. Cats are not a common sight in South Korea, as most Koreans, unlike me, don't seem to like cats.
They do like dogs, however, but sometimes for the wrong reasons. Dog meat soup - boshintang - is considered by some to be a delicacy and an aphrodisiac. However, plenty of people are appalled at the very concept - me included - so the only places to eat it are in clearly marked restaurants in rural areas. You won't eat dog meat unless you actively seek out for it. And in any case, meat-grade dogs are different from pet dogs anyway. Contrary to urban legends, they won't kidnap your beloved Fido, cook him, and serve him on your table.
Looking west from Kwan Yin's vantage point. Near the shoreline is the temple's entryway village - where I parked Gwaneum Zero at a pay lot - about the equivalent of 60 stories below. Beyond lies the Yellow Sea. Since 2001, however, some unwelcome changes have happened, as Incheon Airport opened as South Korea's main gateway, and the flight path to/from the airport passes right over here. On the other hand, if you fly into Incheon, you'll probably share some of this wonderful view.
It was also special to walk back down to the courtyard, passing by an elderly woman who was chanting "관세음보살" (Gwan-se-eum Bosal, or Bodhisattva Kwan Shih Yin, the full name of Kwan Yin) repeatedly as she took every step.
Remember - even though these are all the Kwan Yin-related photos I have, they nevertheless are only teasers, really, for the rest of the art photos I am about to share. You'll be in for a treat.
