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Beginner’s Mind”,초심

“Why are you learning Korean? You.” This question haunts me. As a second generation Korean-American who learned how to speak Korean by osmosis from my Korean mother’s small conversations and language leaks amongst her family and friends, I am insecure about my “Korean-ness”. Our stereotypical society expects me to know about Korean culture, food, and the language. Meanwhile, I have my mom on speed dial whenever I get “lost in translation”.

My de facto boundaries are defined by an irony of two separate identities that unite who I am as a person: I am an internal minority in Korea, and an external minority anywhere else in the world. Not quite blending in, I have an undesired language boundary when in South Korea because I am far from fluent. While living in and visiting South Korea, I felt like an imposter— a foreigner who embodies a local appearance. Moreover, in the United States, where I now live, I have this enduring boundary built by broken questions like, “Where are you from?”

In an attempt to conquer these so-called cultural boundaries, I want to improve my knowledge of all things Korean. A friend once said to me, “Your ‘East meets West’ isn’t getting along.” I appreciate and love Korean culture and traditions, but my “American-ness” is imprinted upon me. As funny as it is imagining myself in a hanbok 한복 (traditional, east) paired with jeans (modern, west), my idea of balancing my East and West is arming myself with knowledge about all things Korean. I want to polish that bridge by sharing what I know. But most importantly, I want to meet like-minded individuals who are learning or want to learn Korean; this would be a relief to my identity crisis.

I wanted to tell you my story, in hopes that you too would share yours.

My story: I am a beginner.

In a sea of “been there done that” ambiance, I am adopting the Buddhist concept of a “Beginner’s Mind” 초심, or the transliteration “chosim”. Note: the Hangeul word 초심 translates into the English word “beginner”. With 초심, there is eagerness, open-mindedness, and an absence of preconceptions when learning. As a beginner, there are many possibilities! For me, to build upon the innate Korean “things” I know from my family and from living in and visiting South Korea, I needed to get back to basics—a blank slate.

Are you a beginner too? Are you willing to ignore what others say about learning Korean—that its complex grammar is difficult to grasp, or that it is one of the most difficult languages to master, etc. Quite the contrary, I learned the Hangeul alphabet in two days! Easily learning how to write and pronounce Hangeul consonants and vowels encouraged me to look up the words I was reading aloud. It is a game for me, building on my vocabulary and constructing small sentences, etc.

My question for you is, “Why are you learning Korean?” You.” Each person has a reason for wanting to learn a language. It’s fascinating to me, to know why you want to learn Korean!
I would love to connect with you on Twitter: twitter.com/lindasauce. I am working on various blog entries related to Korean culture and the language. If there is a specific topic you are interested in—e.g., wanting a translation of a K-pop song, looking for Korean products outside of Korea, Korean language resources, etc.—please comment, and I will write about it.

Nam Gyeu (남계우) was a Korean painter from 1811 to 1888. He devoted his life to painting butterflies, so much so that his nickname was Nam Nabi (남나비) or ‘Butterfly Nam’. I personally love Nam Gyeu’s paintings because his paintings are always beautiful and graceful, and include butterflies innocently fluttering their wings while they hover around brightly colored flowers. Nam Gyeu is the master of painting butterflies. No one can paint them like he did, as the painting below shows.

How many butterflies can you spot in the painting on the left? There are five. Two are on towards the lower left side and three are towards the top. The two butterflies on the bottom may not have caught your attention because of the faded colors of their wings. That’s because Nam Gyeu intended the viewer’s eyes to look towards the upper part of the painting where the black and yellow butterflies are. There is so much detail and brush stroke in this painting. You can especially see it in the petals of the pink flowers.

One of the reasons why Nam Gyeu was obsessed with butterflies was because butterflies symbolized harmony in traditional Korean culture. If you look at Nam Gyeu’s paintings, the butterflies are always in a harmonious relationship with the flowers and shrubs in the painting. None of Nam Gyeu’s depiction of butterflies are ever attacked or eaten by predators. It’s as if his butterflies live in a celestial world where they live forever and are always beautiful.

This next painting was a part of a byeungpoong (병풍) or ‘folding screen’. A traditional folding screen contains several panels of hand drawn paintings that are placed behind the seat of the sitter. Can you imagine what this folding screen would have looked like in the mid 19th century? It would have drawn the viewer’s eyes upward, toward the sky where the prominent colored butterflies are. In Nam Gyeu’s perfect world, butterflies and humans never aged and lived in harmony with nature.

In a way Nam Gyeu allows viewers to attain immorality by imagining such a world, even if it’s only for a second.

There are so many ways to experience and see traditional Korean culture at work. One of the ways is to visit a museum in Korea, one like the Museum of Straw and Plants Handicraft (짚풀생활사박물관) in Seoul (서울). I love seeing all the things that can be made with straw. I once saw these boots made straw. They kind of reminded me of ugg boots! It’s just mindboggling as to how many things can be made with straw, and it doesn’t stop with just traditional Korean items like shoes and hats.

The Nonghyup Museum (농업박물관) is also in Seoul and is a museum dedicated to traditional Korean farming. Agriculture used to be a big part of Korean life and the museum chronicles the tools and methods of traditional Korean farming. Visitors to the museum can see displays of how ancient farming tools were used. Not only can you see hoes, plows and other farming tools. There are also sifting baskets, sieves and other tools.

 

I think the most fascinating museum for me to visit was the Lock Museum (쇳대박물관). The Lock Museum has many displays of traditional Korean talismans, locks, charms, latches and keys. It used to be that locks, charms and talisman had both symbolic and functional purposes. Some of the keys and latches had designs of animals like butterflies, peony flowers and peaches. Butterflies are symbolic of martial happiness and peonies are symbolic of wealth, while peaches symbolize longevity.

The Ricecake and Kitchen Utensil Museum (떡부엌살림박물관) features all the different kinds of cutlery used in the history of Korean cuisine. There’s also a section of the Museum that features solely on Korean ricecakes and the kitchenware that were traditionally used to make Korean ricecakes. I found the grinding stones to grind the glutinous rice into rice cake flour especially interesting. The Museum has over 5o displays on a variety of Korean ricecakes. It makes me drool just thinking about it!

 

South Korea is a beautiful country with many flora and geological formations. There are several Natural Monuments (천연기념물) of South Korea that are popular among tourists. One of these places is the Natural Habitat of Crinum Lily in Gujwaeup (제주 토끼섬 문주란 자생지). Crinum Lilies are white flowers that bloom from July to September on Jeju Island (제주도). These lilies were once in danger of being exterminated be overpicking, but now they are protected by law.

Another popular natural monument in South Korea is the Ginkgo Tree of Yongmunsa Temple (양평 용문사 은행나무). This Ginkgo tree is estimated to be over 1000 years old. It is 135 feet tall and changes color in the fall. Normally the leaves of this Ginkgo tree are green, but in the fall they turn yellow. From afar the yellow leaves make this Ginkgo tree look like a magical golden tree that you read about in fairy tales.

 

The Turtle Rocks of Unpyeongri (운평리 구상 화강암) is my favorite natural monument in South Korea. They are located in the city of Sangju (상주시) in Gyeongsanbuk Province (경상북도). The Turtle Rocks of Unpyeongri are a bunch of rocks. They are named ‘Turtle Rocks’ because the rocks look like the designs you see on the shells of turtles. These Turtle Rocks were naturally formed in this day, which I think is quite amazing!

 

Herons are majestic creatures with retractable, long, graceful necks, which is why the Breeding Ground of Herons in Jincheon (진천 노원리 왜가리 번식지) in Chungcheongbuk Province (충청북도) is considered an important natural monument. The Herons in Jincheon rely on the Gingko trees as their habitat, which is why there are extensive efforts being made to protect the Gingko trees in the area.

 

The Gimnyeongguland Manjanggul Caves of Jejudo (제주도 김녕굴 및 만장굴) is another cool natural monument in South Korea. The Cave in the photo was enhanced by artificial green lighting for a tourism exhibition. Since it’s hard to see the Caves at night, the lighting gives the visitor an inner glimpse of the interior of the Caves.

 

Hanbok (한복) is the name for a type of traditional Korean clothing. In particular the hanbok for ladies has changed over the decades. Take for example the jeogori (저고리), which is the upper garment of the woman’s hanbok that covers the entire length of the arms and the upper body. In the early part of Korean history, the jeogori used to cover the waist, but over the years many women have preferred to have it tailored above the waist.

One of the reasons why the jeogori became shorter was because in times of war and other crises like food shortages, it was prudent to use less fabric for clothing. As wars ended the fashion for having shorter jeogori continued and women would wear sometimes add more extravagant elements to the hanbok. For example, the Kkeutdong (끝동) refers to the cuff of the sleeves of the hanbok. The kkeutdong was often of a different color than the rest of the hanbok. In the photo, the kkeutdong is the part that is blue.

It used to be that only the king and his relatives could wear hanbok with geumbak (금박) on it. Geumbak is a type of gold leaf design on the hanbok that indicated the person’s high ranking or royal status. Nowadays anyone who can afford to have a hanbok with a geumbak design can wear it. A skilled artisan must apply the geumbak to the hanbok, which is why hanboks with authentic geumbak designs are very expensive.

 

The goreum (고름) of the hanbok is like the ribbon or coat strings of the hanbok. If you look at the photo you can get an idea of how to tie the goreum of the hanbok. Usually the goreum of the hanbok is made of a solid color, but in the Jeoseon Period women who were prostitutes/dancing girls wore a special goreum that was decorated with flowers to indicate their occupation as prostitutes/dancing girls. However, this rule doesn’t apply to today’s hanbok!

Another way women distinguished themselves from other women was by the git () or the fabric that lined the band of the collar. Women related to royalty would wear a git lined with geumbak and women who weren’t related to royalty but were of high status wore a git of a different color than the jeogori. In the photo, the git is the fabric that has the gold leaf design right next to the white lining of the color. Men’s hanbok has changed very little over the years, but women’s hanbok continues to evolve still to this day!

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