Tag Archives: travelogue

January 14, 2013

Fantastic Travelogue #1 – Just a Cup of Water

This is the first part of the travelogue I introduced in my post, Always Always Bring a Camera. Because I didn’t have a camera at the time, I am going to attempt to draw all the pictures in this series. I apologize in advance for my lack of artistic skill.

I was nearly faint with thirst. I had been wandering all night along mountain paths and my throat was swollen and raw. There was a rough track that went down into the valley in front of me and I took it immediately, thinking only of finding a house or a temple where I could beg some water before turning back. At this point, I did not think anything was out of the ordinary. It was true that I had never seen a golden dome like that in Korea, but I simply thought it was part of a Buddhist temple, even though Korean temples don’t have domes. It looked to be a few kilometers down the valley, so I thought I might go back and get my gear and come back for a better look.

About fifteen minutes down the trail, I came to a house with a low, earthen wall around it. The house was the first surprise I had. It had a thatched roof and rose to a high point in the middle, unlike anything I had seen before. The walls were made of reddish earth. I went through the narrow gate and saw an older woman in a light gray dress and cloak loading wood in her arms from a woodpile. She stopped and looked at me warily.

“May I have some water?” I asked in Korean. She didn’t respond and so I repeated it—the Korean word for “water” is a little hard to say correctly. When she still did not react, I resorted to miming drinking from a glass.

At last she said something to me, but I did not understand a word of it. Mountain dialects, I thought. She said it again and it sounded like a question, so I nodded slowly. After living abroad, I’ve gotten good at making assumptions about meaning based on the situation, or at least bluffing it.

The woman looked a little annoyed as she carried the wood into the house. The floor was raised as in traditional Korean houses and there were stone steps that led up to the door. I followed her to the door but did not go inside. She came out a moment later with an expensive-looking porcelain bottle in her hand, sealed with wax. She sat down and started to cut the wax off with a knife.

Oh no. It was probably alcohol and she was opening it for me, supposedly at my request. I understood now why she was annoyed. That’s why bluffing doesn’t always work. I moved to stop her and she started yelling at me, pointing to the bottle and the knife.

At that point, I just wanted to get away, but I hung on, looking around desperately for a well or some water I could show her. Finding none, I wrote the Korean word for water (물) in the dirt and then, because that had no effect, the Chinese character for it (水). She stopped then and pointed to it. I nodded and she got up and led me around to the back where there was a series of bamboo stalks tied together, all different heights, and with their tops open. It was for collecting rainwater, I saw and they had pieces of wood at the top to catch more water. The shortest one had a spigot sticking out of it, with a plug of something stuck in the end. The woman mimed taking out the plug and putting the spigot in my mouth and when when I hesitated in embarrassment, she stood next to it and bending almost double, with her head at the level of her knees, she twisted her head and put the spigot in her mouth.

I couldn’t physically do that, but I hunkered down and pulled out the stopper, which was made of some sort of hardened tree gum. Water gushed out immediately and soaked my pant leg before I could get my mouth in front of the stream. Even so, it was coming out so fast that a lot of it overflowed my mouth and splashed on the ground. The woman gave a short, unbelieving laugh, like you might make at someone who accidentally tied their own shoelaces together.

I didn’t care—the water was delicious. It was cool and had a wonderful taste that I can only describe as “light green”. After a nice long drink, I put the stopper back and stood up. I bowed in thanks, but the woman just waved it off and went back to the wood pile.

I had been planning on trying to find my way back to the sanjang where I had left my stuff, but now that I was much more refreshed, I thought I might just walk down and see what the golden dome was right away. And so I set off, going down along the forest track with birds chirping around me in the morning light and the faint smell of woodsmoke wafting through the air from the woman’s fire. I felt pretty good right about then. It was a feeling that was only going to last about six hours.

7 Comments | tags: Fantastic Travelogue, fantasy, fiction, Korea, old woman, travelogue, water | posted in Travelogue

January 9, 2013

Always, Always Bring a Camera

By David Stewart

You never know what you are going to come across in your daily life, and if you are at all photographically inclined, you need to be ready to catch those perfect, once-in-a-lifetime pictures. Or even those once-in-a-week pictures. My rule is that I should always have a camera with me when I leave the house. It is a rule I often break, sometimes to my lasting regret.

For instance, the very first Visual Fiction post I did was about a bridge I used to take to school every Friday. One day, a few months ago, the entire area was shrouded in fog and that bridge looked amazing, emerging out of the ghostly pall of mist, like the passage to another world. You would agree with me, if you could have seen it, but I forgot my camera that day. I kicked myself over and over, but of course, it made no difference.

The worst time, though . . . I almost hesitate to tell you about that time because frankly, it’s unbelievable. However, a fiction blog like this seems like a safe place to share it. Suffice to say, you are the first people to hear this story.

It was a few years ago, when I was on vacation by myself. I am a bit of a lone wolf at times and sometimes I just need to get away from everything. I was hiking in the province of Gangwon-do. It is the biggest, most mountainous and least populated province in Korea, and by far the wildest. There are many hidden valleys and steep passes between them. I found myself just south of a big national park and just started walking, away from the park. Korea isn’t that big of a country so I wasn’t too worried about getting lost.

I followed a small road up into the mountains until it came to a sanjang—a shelter for hikers in the mountains, like a small, rustic hotel. I decided to stay the night there.

a sanjang, although not the one I stayed in

That night after supper, I decided to go outside to look at the stars. I wasn’t planning on going long and I didn’t bring any of my things with me, including my camera. I walked up to the closest ridge and strolled through the forest, looking at the stars peeping through the budding spring foliage at me. I admit I got lost in a kind of reverie and when I decided to go back, I wasn’t sure of the way. It is very easy to get lost in the mountains at night, especially in an area that you don’t know.

I wandered all night, first on one trail, then another. I wasn’t particularly scared; just thirsty and very tired. The eastern sky began to lighten and just as the sun broke between the mountains, I reached the crest of a long valley and saw a large building with a golden dome on top, shining in the sun.

I wish I had a picture to show you. It was one of those moments that hits you unexpectedly and just floors you. All I could do was stand and stare at it in amazement.

That was the beginning of a several week-long adventure that was like nothing else I have ever experienced. I don’t know where it was, but it wasn’t Korea, as weird as that sounds. I am hesitant to use a phrase like “another world”, since it brings up images of magic wardrobes and Neverland. It wasn’t like that at all.

Over the next few weeks (maybe once a week), I’m going to share my account of that time. I’ve been going through my memory, trying to remember every detail and making some notes. I am not much of an artist, but since I did not have my camera, I will try my best to convey what I saw through my words and a few sketches if I can manage them. I will do my best at least.