Another ceiling. It's amazing how comfy can Koreans make a place that was meant to be a mushroom growing tunnel.
I just don't feel as a mushroom in it.
Only a small touch would make this place perfect - some wireless. But I'll survive. Or I'll just take a walk to the Musang sa temple, I can reach it in twenty minutes on foot. I can go there every afternoon. Coincidence? Dont make me laugh.
And I went there for the Sunday Dharma Talk in English just to have another surprise. There's no more Sunday Dharma Talk, it became the Saturday Dharma Talk. Sundays are now for Koreans - well, for those who can speak Korean, that is.
So I returned to my books. Chae Hak left some for me, so I won't be bored. One is already done, Understanding Koreans and Their Culture. It's written by Choi Joon Sik, who has a degree in Korean History and in Religious Studies so he mostly explains the Koreans and their culture through religions: Confucianism, Buddhism, Christianity and Shamanism. Nothing really new there, except the floorboards. Yes, floorboards. You must now that Koreans are really sloppy about the appereance of their homes. Mostly they look quite used and as never properly fixed. In the house of Kwan Chol I was surprised to see again floorboards that do not match and with 5 cm cracks between them. Surprised because Kwan Chol is a carpenter and he built himself his home. So why did he such a lousy job? And why doesn't he repair the floor, it would take him less than an hour. Choi explains it with Buddhist tradition: " Moreover, since Buddhism has a more flexible religious doctrine, the process of designing Buddhist architecture is open to imaginative ideas compared to Confucianism." And one of the most prominent elements is spontaneity. Seonwun sa temple is famous for not having a single straight girder in its bulidings - just naturally curved trunks. And Cheongyong sa looks like made by Dali. "The spontaneous expression of the structure has led to an attitude of indifference towards small details." I couldn't agree more.
It's market day today. After lunch I went to stretch my legs and take a look at it. At all the delicious food. But for what I needed I had to go to a supermarket. As always I have to cook for my hosts. And spaghetti with carrots will be. I need olive oil. I found green tea oil. Don't ask, I have no clue. I haven't bought it, never tried it. But there's a bigger mistery for me there, that's why I took a picture of it. Is there any logical way to explain me why should I buy 1 litre of it if two halves are way cheaper?
Tomorrow there will be a memorial service for Chae Hak's mother in his house. I'm invited to witness it but I feel that it could be somehow innapropriate. Of course I'm curious about it, but I believe it's way to personal to be there. I'll take my decision at the last moment, when I'll see the atmosphere in the house, mainly how his relatives will react to my presence.
You still wonder about the title of this entry? It's so... embarassing. The sort of thing that makes you want to hide on a remote island, even if you did nothing wrong. Today I was... argh, it goes out so hardly, it's harder than a confession of a commited sin... Let's try again. Today I was mistaken for a **********. Yes, a **********. A man asked me, very politely and in good English, but my consciousness just went off. I stared blanly at him and he asked me again if I was a **********? In horror I realized what is he asking me and I could just babble a denial, that n-n-n-no, I I I am n-n-not a m-m-m-missionary... and I ran away as fast as I could. To hide my misery.
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