After a lengthy hibernation from the blogosphere, I join the trees, bushes and hillsides of Daejeon in a new season of life on this side of the globe.
The changing of the seasons in Korea is a painstakingly slow, but highly noticeable process. The nights are less freezing, the clouds are more friendly toward the sun, and slowly, slowly, slowly (but surely), the trees begin to transform. Suddenly, a once barren set of branches has become a mantle of bouquets of pink and white blossoms. Instead of the usual weekly pattern of five cold days and two tolerable days, I wake up to temperatures where I don't see my breath anymore. The smells are new and reflect an ambience of new life and new things to explore in this place called Korea.
Joining in a somewhat yearly local tradition, I travelled about an hour's southwest drive from Daejeon to the city of Jeonju, famous for two things: history and 비빔밥 (bibibap).
Upon the invitation of my school's manager, I joined her husband and one of their friends on their visit to Jeonju. We arrived to a local tourist-fueled traffic jam, but eventually reached our first destination - a Korean folk village located within the city of Jeonju. This was a very interesting place to me, because in my country, historical villages/reenactments are usually small, boring after five minutes, and never lacking in tackiness. While this place still had its fair share of gift shops and tourist traps, it was within a context that I'm still quite unfamiliar with, and maybe 500 years older than any other historical village I've ever been to.
We walked our way through a preserved/recreated hometown of the founding family of the first united Korea (Joseon). We saw an original painting of King Sejong, perhaps the most famous king from Korea's feudal era, dated around the mid 1300's. Just next door, we walked through a recreated library of royal court records and historical documents. Artifacts like these remind me of how lacking I am in my Asian history. I feel like there is an entire half of the world's history that I managed to avoid learning anything about, so I appreciate even the small glimpses like Jeonju's historical folk village.
After finishing our historical tour, we dove into the other half of Jeonju's claim to fame: bibimbap. Bibimbap is an old, old gem of Korean cuisine. It's history goes back to at least the time of King Sejong, but it's ancient roots are contrasted by the absolute freshness of this dish. Like so many other examples of Korean cooking, it begins with rice. Cooked in a traditional stone pot, the rice is then topped with an unbelievable range of vegetables, meat, and sauces. The stone pot arrived at our table literally boiling, so I felt a little better when I saw the freshly cracked raw egg oozing on top. On top of the steaming rice was a mix of bean sprouts, green veggies, minced beef, peppers, and a healthy dose of red pepper paste. After a good mixing, the smell of each of the distinct ingredients burst out in a wave of steam. The centuries of history behind bibimbap have evolved this dish into the perfect blend of freshness, spice, and savoriness. When I was finished, I felt very full, but a healthy, fresh full. For me, it was a perfect cap to a day of history, exploration, and fresh Spring air.
