A Chew Sock Adventure

The weekend before last I had a 5 day break from work for a holiday called Chu Seok (pronounced “Chew Sock”), which is essentially the Korean equivalent of Thanksgiving.  While Ben and I were eager for a long series of days off and a chance to do some travelling, whenever I asked a Korean about the excitement of Chu Seok’s approach I received a nose-crinkle, a groan or a grimace in return.  I found, via this casual survey, that women tend to hate Chu Seok for its promise of thankless hours spent in the kitchen preparing opulent meals for disapproving in-laws.  The men, too, struggle to gain acknowledgment from their spouse’s parents by buying them $80 gift sets of SPAM or assorted rice cakes, only to receive spurning glances in return.

Silhouette of Yangsan Tower, look familiar?

Nevertheless, Ben and I were free of the demands of this Korean cultural “celebration”, and got to enjoy ourselves while exploring the area a bit.  We ate at the café in Yangsan Tower (basically the Space Needle but in our suburb), sunbathed on Busan’s famous Haeundae Beach (the Busan International Film Festival is currently being held there), and also hopped on a bus to Jinju for their annual lantern festival.  This was by far the most exciting foray of our weekend.  Jinju is a city about 2 hours east of Yangsan by car or bus.  We had heard it was easy to reach, so we just walked to the intercity bus station, sounded out the Hangul for “Jinju” and bought two tickets for the 3:15 PM train.  By the time the train arrived a long line had formed by the stop.  We assumed that when the bus arrived the passengers who came with it would get off and the new ones would file in, but instead, only about three passengers left the bus.  The rest of the line began to hurriedly push into the bus, hoping for the remaining seats.  We jockeyed for a good position but, like about 75% of the people in line, we ended up without seats.  Since the next bus wasn’t for an hour or so, we opted to stay on and stand in the aisle for the duration of the 2 hour trip, along with several fellow passengers.  Luckily we were able-bodied enough to do it; many older people who had waited in line decided to get off when they learned no seats were left.

Jinju Lantern Festival

We made it to Jinju in good time, and the trip was well worth it.  Koreans don’t skimp on ambiance.  We secured a room for the night at the Versace Motel, and then walked along the luminous waterfront trail, festooned with tents, flashing neon lights, musical fountains and hallways coated with lanterns of all shapes and sizes.  Along the river were several large bridges, themselves decorated with lights, suspended over a river dotted with trails and patterns of glowing lanterns. 

Crossing the river, festival-goers could buy fireworks—roman candles mostly—from street vendors and shoot them off the bridge.  The numerous tents featured plenty of street food for us to sample and enjoy, which we did indiscriminately, all for less than a total $20.  The waterfront also housed an ancient fortress (covered with lights, of course) stationed on a high cliff above the whole ordeal.  As we explored the fortress we stumbled upon—you guessed it—a Korean rap concert.  The evening was, altogether, quite magical.

We traveled home by bus the next day, this time with seats, to prepare for my return to school and Ben’s first day at work.  When I went back to Beomeo I asked my co-workers about their weekend. “How was your Chu Seok?” I would inquire.  More often than not the reply was something along the lines of, “Eh, so-so.  I don’t have to complain anymore.”  The lonely exception was one happy-go-lucky female co-teacher who seemed completely satisfied with her break—she had abandoned Chu Seok traditions and decided to take her twin 7 year olds to a nearby waterpark instead.

XOXO

A

A foot bridge across the river right by our apartment, it's lit up like this every night!