Traditional Concert

The day after my hike in Chungju with Krista, we met up with more of my friends from the Ju for a relaxing drive into the countryside, freshly-made Indian food from Seoul, and a quiet concert in the foothills surrounding the sprawling city. The concert was put on by a friend of Matt's who operates a school out of a traditional house and hosts the event every year to raise money for his students. He also sells homemade preserves, sauces, and gently used items as part of the event to supplement the income from the concert.

To my surprise, dozens of people were present that day to sample the musical and culinary cuisine, including foreigners I didn't recognize. I tried pointing them out to Krista, but ended up with egg on my face.

"Hey look," I nodded to a couple with lighter hair and skin than the surrounding Koreans, not four feet from where they sat. "Here are some waegukins we don't know." It was an assumption dangerous to make in such a tight-knit community like Chungju.

"I know those waegukins," Krista commented with conviction.

I gulped self-consciously as, at that moment, the couple nodded their greeting to my friend. "Hey Krista," they waved.

"Hey," she called back and volleyed conversation back and forth for a few moments.

Oops.

As the crowd waited for the food to be ready, different stations throughout the compound were set up for amusement. In one booth, girls were making beaded cell phone charms and in another, traditional Nepalese games were being played. Krista and I tried our hands at playing one of the games with Moon Hae, my Canadian friend Jason's wife, and a group of her friends. The object of our chosen game was to get all three of your team's coins from one end of a string of shells to the other. I could see this as being a successful pastime for hotter, dryer climates like those in the Middle East: It looked like something nomadic tribesmen might enjoy, portable as it was without needing the use of a gameboard.

The game was played by first rolling dice in a small wooden cup, and the outcome of the roll told you how many shells to move. You then grabbed your alloted handful, scooted them over, and nestled your coin safely amid the other shells, to repeat your success the next round. It was none too easy, however, because your oponents could, in persuit of the same goal, usurp your coin and place it back at the start of the shells. Competition was so intense that when Jason came to tell us lunch had been served, we couldn't leave until the game was finished and the winning team declared.

After a meal of fresh nan and spicy Indian curry, we sat down in the courtyard of one of the traditional houses on the compound to enjoy the musical delights of my friend Anna and another talented instrumentalist. Anna first played soothing Hindi music for us on her sarangi, a classical stringed instrument from India that sits on your lap and is played much like a dulcimer. She then taught us to sing a song in Hindi using cards in English and Korean displaying each vocal note. The final performer for the night was a multi-talented, multi-intrumental musician who wooed the gathered crowd with exotic notes sounds from far away places, whiskingus away to Africa on the notes of his whimsical song.

All in all, it was a fun time with my friends from Chungju whom I rarely get to see these days. The cuisine was spicy yet satisfying, the music entertaining, and the company enjoyable--a truly beautiful afternoon.

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Snippets of a traditional house: Its walls and windows are made of durable hanji, the traditional paper product that Korea is famous for.

My friend Krista beading a cell phone charm: Since my phone has no hook on which to hang such beauty, the one I made has become a camera charm instead.

Traditional Nepalese games before dinner: I played the one pictured last.

Mmmm, fresh nan, the bread of the Middle East: Here, the baker loosely fits the thin dough over a hard round disk resembling a spounge and slaps the dough onto the inside walls of the stone oven, what looks like an electric kiln. The bread comes out looking very much like a thick tortilla and tastes like a pita.

Here, ladies wash the dinner dishes Korean-style, squatting outside near a spigot and a large vat of dirty plates and cups.

This is my beautiful friend Anna and her Korean beau. She showcased her musical talents on a sarangi at the concert later that day.

This was the final act of the afternoon, a rather gregarious Korean who entertained us with his many strange instruments.