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A national holiday was upon us. That of Buddha's birthday. It was also parents' day, the day on which mothers and fathers are given carnations by their offspring. My neighbours and I made plans to go out to Donghaksa temple at Gyeryonsan park. For background on the mountains, check out the two trips already documenting the beauty of the area. My neighbours also happen to enjoy taking photos, and it was extremely pleasant to be out with people who also take the time to stop, admire and photograph.
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We got out to the temple at about 6pm. The light was beginning to fade, but there was just enough to grab a few daytime shots of the festooned temple. It was wonderful to see a holy place wearing such cheerful colours. The people were friendlier than they usually are and we were given coffee while we stood around rubbernecking.
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The lanterns, and I kept calling them balloons by mistake, had little notes hanging from them. I assumed these were prayers of some kind, but I read in the paper the next day that they were wishes. I'm not entirely sure of the distinction between a prayer and a holy wish, and it could have been a translation error anyway.
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The next temple up the path had distinctive 'lotus' lanterns. The lotus flower, not the car. I've been at this temple before, but I've never found the monks willing to be photographed. They were pleasantly accessible as subjects, and I felt a much more open attitude to both me as the westerner and me as the photographer. I stumbled upon this group being photographed by a monk with the biggest camera you ever did see, and though one of the group waved a 'no' at me, a word from one of the other monks stopped her negative gestures, and started posing like a movie star.
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They were beginning to illuminate the lanterns, and everyone was helping, proving that many hands really do make light work. They were even eager to get us involved, and though we lit less than our fair share, it's the thought that counts.
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And if you're thinking that wooden temples, paper lanterns and candles with fire on aren't a good combination, especially when half-way up a mountain, far from the nearest town, you can take comfort in the fact that the boys with the red trucks were present in force. In fact, they were lighting most of the candles, which is ironic really.
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We walked back down the mountain to find some food while waiting for darkness. I would say sunset, but I hadn't seen the sun at all that afternoon. We got spicy Korean shellfish soup, and drank some dong dong ju, in a pleasant little eatery by a mountain stream before trekking back up to the temples to see the lights.
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It was absolutely awesome to see the temple lit up with soft coloured lights. The skies had cleared, so the moon and stars were out, adding to the magic of the evening.
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As the evening wore on and the crowds thinned, the atmosphere turned from one of festivity to tranquility. The light remained fantastical, but without the bustle it became a peaceful, almost meditative. A steady trickle of worshippers drifted in and out of the temple, and while I'm usually reluctant to take photos of other people when engaged in holy activities, that night it just felt OK.
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The experience was one of the most beautiful and cultural thing I've done so far in Korea, but eventually the temperature dropped sufficiently to send us back down to the bus stop, where we wended our way back home.