A teaser for the upcoming Korean road trip

In a week, I am answering the call of the open road - my first-ever drive on the Eurasian landmass. My drive will have a very Buddhist focus, so expect a lot of Kwan Yins, Maitreyas, and more.

For today, I have some teasers. These photos were taken at Bongeunsa Temple in southern Seoul, next to COEX Mall, Asia's largest shopping mall. Due to the mall (which is also attached to Hotel Intercontinental), many Westerners visit here. I am pretty sure that many of them, particularly Americans who are used to the Christian extremism in the Korean-American community, find the resilience and the influence of Korean Buddhism surprising.

Entrance stone for Bongeunsa, which is topped off by an elephant. Of course, this American cringes at the sight of an elephant, which also symbolizes a certain political party as well. The elephant is the work of a German sculptor named Markus Kuehn.

Two traditional Korean drums. Yes, that fish is a drum too.

The left drum has a symbol called Samtaegeuk (삼태극). Normally, a Taegeuk (태극) is a two-part yin-yang symbol, which is red and blue in the Korean application (as evidenced in the South Korean national flag). The "sam" prefix means three, and Samtaegeuk is a three-part Taegeuk which also adds yellow.

Other uses of the word "sam" to denote the number three (三) include:

• Samsung (三星), "Three Stars," the neoliberal corporation best known for its electronics division
• Samseong (三成), "Three Accomplishments," same pronunciation as Samsung, and the name of the district this temple is located in
  
• Sambo (三寶), "Three Gems," officially written as Trigem in English, a major computer manufacturer that sells in the US under the EMachines brand
  

Every Korean Buddhist temple has its own main hall, named Hall of Great Hero (Daeungjeon, 大雄殿). Here's Bongeunsa's Daeungjeon. The banner identifies this year as the Year 2552 in the Buddhist calendar.

The faithful pray here today for good scores for their children's college entrance examination, which will be in five days. The score from the exam (which plays the role that SAT does in the US, but carries far more weight) pretty much determines your eligibility for admission to a 4-year university. Ideally, you want to enter a Seoul-based university. And if at all possible, you want to enter a prestigious university, like Seoul National University, Korea University, or Yonsei University, to guarantee yourself success. It all comes down to your exam score.

The result is that your high school years in South Korea are a living hell, as every waking moment must be dedicated to your success in the college entrance exam. Even meal breaks and bathroom breaks waste precious seconds that can better be used to boost your score by a point or two. Once in college, however, your undergrad years are party time; university neighborhoods in Seoul have plenty of karaokes, bars, and PC rooms, but very few bookstores. After all, you have to unwind and reward yourself for all the crap you had to endure in high school. Graduation is nearly automatic anyway.

As there is so little focus on actual academics, South Korean universities - even the most prestigious - tend to be little more than the paper the diplomas are printed on. The true academics will enter graduate studies and/or study abroad, preferably at a prestigious Japanese university, in the US Ivy League, or at Oxford or Cambridge in England.

The Maitreya tends to be the biggest statue in Korean Buddhist temples. This stone Maitreya in the back of the temple is about 50-60 feet tall. When I go on my road trip, I will visit a 100-foot bronze Maitreya.

The expanse of marble in front is the praying area. You must take off your shoes to enter.

In the middle of a circular pond is this circular island with a life-giving water spring, guarded by none other than our beloved transgender matron saint, Kwan Yin. You may drink the water (though you'd bow to the statue first). I didn't drink, and feel really bad about it.

DiAnne will also love to see the presence of two turtles flanking the lotus pedestal.

Now that I have decided to name my new car after Kwan Yin, and carry her spirit onto the American interstate highways, every sight of Kwan Yin here in South Korea carries even more meaning.

Christy: I bought a cheap wooden mini-statue of the Happy Buddha, just for you. I could've spent more money for a bigger version, but don't think he would survive the journey to Louisiana. If you can email me your Louisiana address, I will talk to a local post office or Fedex-Kinko's to arrange shipping to you.