Trusting the Universe, Korean Honesty, and My Wallet

Back in 2000, as everyone knows, I met K (my husband), at the Andong International Mask Dance Festival. This is also the festival that made me fall in love with Korean Mask Dance Dramas (in the inaugural year, 1997). And of course both of these things have changed my life.

In 2001 I went to China to see K for the first time (before I knew more than a few words of Chinese, and none of Tibetan). I took the boat from Korea to Qingdao, and without any Chinese managed to buy myself a  ticket (seat, not sleeper) on a train to Xi'an (most of the way to the end of the train line nearest K's home). In Qingdao in the train station waiting for my train, nervous, laden down by a huge camera bag and another bag for clothes and necessities, I desperately needed the bathroom, but had already realized how hard this would be to navigate without setting my bag on a very nasty Chinese train station bathroom floor covered in fluids one does NOT want to identify. Then I met a Korean-- he had seen me on the boat and said something to me. All I needed to know was that he was Korean. "Can you watch my bag? I have to use the bathroom!" and off I went, only realizing once in the bathroom how funny it was that I was willing to trust this fellow based purely on the fact that he was Korean. (As it happens Kenneth as I are still friends, he brought his family to a performance of K's in Vancouver in August-- I don't think we'll ever lose touch of each other).

I have always been convinced of Korean honesty, and a little government and business corruption aside, I maintain that belief.

I did lose my wallet on the bus once. Dang that sucked. And I did have to pay a "finder's fee" to get it back (the finder claimed the cash was already gone when he found it). Actually he wouldn't even deal with me. My friend Yoomi's mom had to go meet him and exchange for my wallet. Ugh. But that guy did not dim my belief in Korean honesty.

Until last Thursday, that is.

I arrived at the Andong International Mask Dance Festival at 2pm, right as the performance of Goseong Ogwangdae was starting. I had left home at 7:10, caught a bus to the bus station in East Seoul (a single bus... but it took forever to get there), but then was stymied when the next two buses to Andong were sold out. As an experienced traveler in Korea, I joined the line of people hoping that not all the ticket holders would show up... allowing me to catch an earlier bus. I missed the first bus by three people. When the second bus hit departure time I was third in line and made it on. Anyway, I arrived in Andong with this big rush rush rush stressed energy. I got in line and bought a ticket for the performance hall (the festival is free, except for that one hall. A single entry is 7,000 won, in order to come and go as I liked I bought a 30,000 won ticket good for the entire duration of the festival). I even managed to find a front row seat in the packed hall. When the funeral procession of the last act entered the stage I stood up and slipped 10,000 won into the rope on the front of the "coffin" for the character of Keun Eomi. This was the last time I saw my wallet.

Hwang Jong-uk Performing in the Role of the Old Monk

After the show I gleefully reunited with my Goseong friends (although in fact I saw them all in July, but still I had a chance to tell them about my job, and I'm still pretty excited to say "I got a job! I'm a professor now!"). Before long the bus took most of them back to Goseong, except Hwang Jong-uk, Minsu, and two K-Arts students who were helping out. I hung around with the four, especially Hwang, walking around, taking photos of them teaching a demo class for kids, and then eating dinner together (Hwang's treat-- I think I owe him about 20 meals at this point). Once they left I had to carry all my stuff again, and decided to go check into a hotel, then return for some night photography.

In the hotel room I couldn't find my wallet. "Don't freak out! Don't freak out!" I kept repeating. But it was really gone. The hotel owners (who couldn't remember me from last time, but that might be good as last time I left with their key and didn't find it in my pocket and send it to them for at least a week) were pissed when I tried to leave with the key but not paying, but I assured them my friends would loan me money.

My friends?!!! My only real Andong friend, Yeong-ae, was in Bali performing at the opening ceremony for APEC. I walked back to the festival in a half panic, looking everywhere I'd been and asking at each official desk, tourist info center, the police station, the ticket office, and finally the main festival office if a wallet had been turned in. In the main festival office Gwon Duhyeon (festival director whom I've met before but barely remember) reached into his wallet and set 50,000 won on the table in front of me. "Give me your name card" I insisted. And eventually he did, although he really would have just given me the money. I went looking more, then returned to the office. "Can I use your computer?" I asked Gwon and checked, finding out that my Chase accounts hadn't had even a whiff of action (my wallet had a Korean cash card, "check" card, two Chase cards, my Islander's Bank card, my driver's license, my university ID that I'd received on Tuesday, my transportation card loaded with more than 40,000 won, 110 in American cash AND over 250,000 in Korean cash). Sitting there I got a text from Hwang Jong-uk "Shall I save you?" he asked. "What does this mean?" I asked Gwon, handing the festival director my phone. "Oh, you're a friend of Hwang Jong-uk?" He asked, laughing, and dialing Hwang who promptly ordered Gwon to give me another 50,000 won.

I couldn't shake the memory of the man who'd wanted a finder's fee to return my wallet, and although I felt that my wallet had to return to me, I tried to accept that all the cash would be gone. And I kept trying to remind myself that I have a job. After spending seven years as an MA and PhD student with only one year in between (on Buddhist pilgrimage) and one year after finishing my doctorate (unemployed), I am very used to being stressed about money. And if someone started using my check card, I'd lose much more than just the cash. Korean "check" cards (kind of like a debit card) don't need even a pin, just a signature. (Gwon and I had tried to cancel my check card, but I couldn't use the automated system because I didn't know the account number). Dejected, but "saved" from embarrassment at the hotel by Gwon's loan, I settled in for a mostly sleepless night tossing and turning as I imagined someone partying with my money.

I was first in line as the door opened at Daegu Bank in the morning. What would you do if a foreigner walked into your bank without any ID? Would you cancel and reissue their "check" card?
Me:      (After summarizing the no money, no ID issue) You need to call my friend at Daegu Bank in Seoul (holding out my phone with her name and number)
Them:    Uh, we can't do that. (But then checking on their computer) Oh, a Jo Suhyeon does work in Seoul!
Them:     (After their phone connects) Do you know a foreigner called 시이달?
Jo SH:     Yes, of course.
Me:        Give me the phone! (Into phone in total Daegu-dialect whine) I lost my wallet. It has this and that and that and that in it! And I'm in Andong! Alone!
Jo SH:     Don't worry, give me back to them.
Them:      (After listening to Jo SH) Here is our form filled out with your ID number and your bank account info, sign here. Okay, here's your new card. And there hasn't been any activity on this account.

Of course I called Jo Suhyeon back to thank her after I had withdrawn some money. At that point I felt much less stressed, because it seemed I wasn't going to have a large amount of money lost, just potentially a lot of hassle to replace all the rest of the cards and ID. Then I had a nice breakfast (at my favorite Andong restaurant).

By the time I got back to the festival I knew my wallet had been found. Arriving at the festival I learned that it had been found by Im Jaeseon, a "friend" of mine whom I've known for about 15 years-- a professional mask dancer with Hahoi Byeolshin'gut Talnoli. Every single thing, including all the cash, was still there. I paid back Gwon, bought a fancy ceramic plate for Im, and had a good rest of the festival, my faith in Korean honesty stronger than ever.

Breakfast on my third day in Andong-- Note the Andong Salted Mackerel and two-type of squash squash savory pancakes

Songpa Sandae Noli in Andong

October 3rd, 2010
Today we woke up and packed our bags, leaving them in the office of the little 여관 yeogwan until time to go to Seoul. We had breakfast at the same restaurant I always like to go to, they gave us extra side dishes and apple for dessert, but I forgot to pay and felt horrid about it after I realized it (both the owner and the cook were there, I think both assumed I’d paid the other and I thought Karjam had paid). I rushed back before we caught the bus, they hadn’t even realized it.

The big event for the day was 송파산대놀이 Songpa Sandae Noli, but before the performance I also did a little tiny bit of gift shopping for my family. I wanted to support some of the many hand craft booths at the festival. The Songpa performance began at exactly the same time as the 안동자전놀이 Andong Jajeon Noli performance. It was my top pick to see –other than mask dances—at the festival, but I could not prioritize it over Songpa. Instead Karjam went and I watched the video playback on his camera on the bus back to Seoul. If you ever go to the festival, unless you’re like me and totally crazy about mask dances (and part of the group performing and conducting your last few surveys), then you should watch the Jajeon Noli performance, there are probably over 400 participants, it’s amazing staged battle/play. I just can’t describe it better, but hopefully we can upload something to Youtube later. I waited backstage for the Songpa players, set up my camera gear and distributed surveys then went backstage again. Everyone was in high spirits. They performed the 1st 마당 Act, the dance of the Sangjwa (two monks), the 4th Act, Buk Noli and the 11th Act, Saennim, Miyal and Podobujang Noli. However the second two were fairly abridged and then unlike every other group they invited everyone onto the stage and taught the motions. I like that, a lot, but think a little more of the dance and then the teaching would have been a better balance. Or teaching outside.

I was waylaid for another interview and we stopped at a fortune teller but we still got on the bus on time. We got back to Seoul and I organized photos and helped Karjam to overcome the disadvantage of missing Korean class on Friday.

Yangju Byeolsandae in Andong

October 1st, 2010
In the morning Karjam and I checked out most of the booths we hadn’t seen yet, I was interviewed again, we watched Desang, Koong and Iwan perform, then 양주별산대 Yangju Byeolsandae. I distributed my surveys and got back 19 after their performance. Yangju Byeolsandae performed different scenes, the performance was good, but after the excellent explanations during the 동래야류 Dongnae Yayu performance the absence of any kind of explanation during the Yangju performance was even more obvious. They had distributed some pamphlets at the back, but I think not many, and since they didn’t explain which scene they were going to perform, the scene by scene explanations still would require some effort to read through in order for people to be cued in even the three or four sentence worth that the pamphlet provided for each scene. Karjam watched the Mexican performance team while I went to greet and congratulate the Yangju folks, who were quite pleased I’d shown up.

Photos: Iwan is from Java Indonesia, Desang is from Bhutan, and Koong is from Thailand



Photos of Yangju Byeolsandae:

10 Years with my Husband

September 30th, 2010
We had to sprint (literally, with heavy bags and awkward instruments) to get to the bus station in time for the 8:40 bus (buses leave less than once an hour from the 강남 Gangnam Terminal to 안동 Andong). In Andong Karjam insisted that we not stay in the 여인숙 yeo’insuk (boarding house) again, but rather get something better. I looked down a row of motels and at the end was a small old 여관 yeogwan (the sort of place you can pay for by the hour when you’re cheating on your wife, but also nice if you’re on a budget). We went there and checked out a room, it was at the end of the hallway with a bathroom between us and the neighbors (just in case anything preposterously noisy happens) and I bargained the owner down to 20,000 per night in advance in cash.

I was given a choice for when Karjam would perform at the Andong International Mask Dance Festival but I wanted him on the mask dance performance stage on the same day I’d first seen him there—and that was September 30th (2000), a Saturday then, it was a Thursday this year (not a high attendance day) but that was less important to me. In the dressing room Karjam sang softly as he warmed up, playing me the song he’d written about our relationship (it’s on his 2007 CD). A few minutes before he was to go on I staked out a great spot in the front row, set up his video camera and got my camera in order. The performance went absolutely great, he sounded so good, and there was nothing wrong with the sound system, either—I will definitely upload those videos to Youtube.


Just a couple minutes after Karjam ended was the one Korean mask dance performance of the day, 동래야류 Dongnae Yayu. I managed to distribute a fair number of surveys (with pens and my introduction slip) before the performance started. I need to count the total number of papers I now have to see how many I gave out, at any rate I got 22 back, which is either the same number or very close to what I gave out. Koreans are very cooperative about such things. However, I wonder how many read my intro (most gave it back, although the point of a separate paper was that they could keep it, it has my email and invites them to contact me with any additional thoughts about the topic). Also most just turned it in to the door on the way out and I wasn’t able to give out many of the answer sheets (well, I guess I’m glad I only copied 60 even though I have 100 surveys). As expected many couldn’t answer the hard questions (a lot of complete blanks, an equal number of wrong answers), but this is also a result, particularly if it corresponds with those who say they don’t normally go to traditional performances).

The performance, well, I was really impressed. The best thing they did? There was a very mellow voiced man who came over the PA system and explained some of what was going on during the show, so the characters are all yelling and what not and he explains in simple modern language what they’re yelling about. This is, in my opinion, really needed. I will go back and listen and watch the video again so that I can make a note of how often (was it everywhere I’d have put it if it was me?) and how effective it was to differentiate the explanation from what the characters were saying, and so on. I also just LOVE their huge 말뚝기 Maldduggi mask. It was awesome, and a lot of their dancers were really good. They had 길놀이 gilnori (playing music and parading to the performance to attract more audience) and everyone came in together with a lot of people drumming (none of them changed clothes and emerged as dancers, they were drummers only), the drummers, approximately a dozen, stood at the back to the entire performance. The play itself is very similar in content to 고성오광대 Goseong Ogwangdae, with a different semi-mythical beast coming to plague a 양반 yangban (upper class literati). The largest story difference is that the old wife drives off the concubine, but then ends up killed by her husband anyway.

Photos: Dongnae Yayu masks-- oversized Maldduggi, hairy Yangban and movable jaws on many masks.



For the rest of the evening Karjam and I observed our 10 year anniversary in various ways, it was very sweet.

Photos: off my cell, i won't process anything off my good camera until I go back to Seoul


Photo: Not off my cell!

52 Sangmo Circles!

September 14th, 2010
We went to pick up our thanka (it looks amazing) and then went to meet a woman who’s the advance prep person for a Singaporean TV show. They are doing a show on Korea with six segments, focusing on the Andong Mask Dance Festival. In typical Korean fashion, the people in Andong just supplied my phone number. Of course our love story (our ten year anniversary of meeting falls during the festival and Karjam will perform a short set) is what attracted them. To me, this is an opportunity to get people familiar with Karjam’s music from a different area, since they plan to film his set and feature his music. However, what cracked me up was that during the meeting I mostly just taught this woman who else she should contact, including a lesson on what mask dances exist, where their offices are located, how the Cultural Property Protection Law works (and hence what the titles mean) and so on. She even sent a follow up email asking for more phone numbers.

Ironically on my way to meet her Arirang TV called, I told them to call back and they did and sent an email. They want me to function as a guest announcer who can introduce the festival to the viewers. They also want exclusivity.

I made it to the Seoul practice center for 임실필봉농악 Imshil Pilbong Nongak later than I would have liked, just ten minutes before class was to start. Once class began 이종휘 Yi Jonghui kept us moving for 45 minutes non-stop. First for 15 minutes everyone (not just beginners) had to turn from side to side, bending their knees, so that their ribbon went swish-swish. I hadn’t noticed before that everyone had to do this, not just me because before I didn’t have any thought of doing anything else, but after my success the previous week I was eager to get back to spinning. The one difference between what I was doing and the advanced students is that they also hit the 소고 sogo drum as they turned from side to side. After the 15 minutes were up, we were given the instruction to begin spinning the one type I’d done the previous week. I set about doing just that, and by the time I was instructed to change had managed 12 consecutive circles. My new assignment was to prepare me for 양사위 yangsaui, which is turning your head to each side, one clockwise, one counter-clockwise. I was rather surprised he was already having me work on this, and my form was not so good (the clockwise side was rather forced and awkward). Before the break ended I began spinning again and did 22 circles, crowing to Jonghui elicited a command not to talk to him again until I’d done 50. I managed 52 (yes, a lot of 2s I don’t know why) within 5 minutes, but never exceeded that number for the rest of the class (although I got into the 40s several times), I expect I was just too exhausted. I had to consciously remember to breathe as I spun the 상모 sangmo. It was an absolutely intense workout, and after class ended I didn’t have the energy to leave, instead I sat down with 태강 Taegang and some other students to make 꽃갈 (not sure that’s the right spelling but flower hats). When I got up again, twenty minutes later my knees were so stiff I lurched and almost fell over.

The photo is a crappy photo in low light off my cell phone.