Living a monk's life at a South Korean temple

By KAREN GOA


Beneath rows of lotus lanterns grey-robed monks chant, kneel, bow to the golden Buddha and rise in graceful repetitions.

Crouched like a frog on a cushion I struggle to rise with them. My companion on the right wobbles, loses her balance and crashes backward into the wall.


The monks pay no attention and begin the 108 "agony" bows to discipline their minds and rid themselves of earthly desires. We take our undisciplined minds and unruly Western bodies out of the temple, leaving the monks with 102 bows to go.


Naksan Temple sits on a cliff overlooking the East Sea in Korea's northern Gangwon province. Over its 1300-year-history Naksan - The Temple of Compassion - has suffered foreign invasion of all kinds.


The most recent is the most peaceful. Since the temple first started offering overnight stays to visitors to the World Cup in 2002, hundreds of Westerners have walked through its stone gates and sampled Buddhist monastic life. Some are curious about Buddhism and Korean culture, others are looking for a temporary retreat from city life and modern-day worries.


The secret of happiness lies in the mind's release from worldly ties: Buddhist proverb.


First, give up the jeans.


Wearing standard-issue yellow jackets and green baggy trousers instead of our own clothes our group - mainly Singaporeans and a few New Zealanders and Aussies - adds a buttercup touch to the temple gardens.


It's hard to imagine a more worry-free spot. There's a simple beauty in the Japanese maples framing wide-winged pavilions, white lilacs hanging in bunches beside a stone well, crimson peony splashes against wooden lattice shutters.


During the 35-year Japanese occupation much of the temple complex was burnt to the ground, but the post-war buildings are recreated in the same centuries-old style. Some of the earliest plants, like the gingko and nashi (Naksan) pear trees, survived the flames.


The culture survived too, but with surprising modern twists. In front of the largest and newest temple serious-faced young men in white baggy suits wait in military lines. They're tae kwon do students and they're performing Korea's ancient and most famous form of martial arts especially for us.


Their leader claps bamboo sticks together, the cameras are ready - and the 80s pop tune It's Raining Men blares across the square.


With "God bless Mother Nature, she's a single woman too" ringing in the ears it's hard to concentrate on the high kicks and low punches. Things get messy when we're invited to try it ourselves. Most Korean children take up tae kwon do at an early age, but we look like chickens on bad drugs.


Tolerance, patience and understanding are the highest virtues every man should develop.


Gogyoung Seunim, a shaven-headed monk with a face like a silvery moon, shows plenty of these virtues as she guides us through "Balwugongyang" at the evening meal. This traditional meal ceremony is another form of mind discipline that teaches equality and self-control.


As for nearly every activity, we sit cross-legged on floor cushions. There are formal rules - eat everything you take. Don't chat. Follow the order of the meal.


I spoon small portions of rice and millet, seaweed soup, mountain vegetable, lotus root and kimchi, the spicy Korean version of sauerkraut, into my set of shiny wooden "balwu" bowls. I eat everything in my bowls and carefully wipe them clean using a chopstick and a large slice of pickled radish - this is no easy trick, especially for the chopstick-challenged. It takes several swipes with the radish. Then I swish the dishes with water and, as instructed, drink the dregs.


The next part has been causing me consternation all through the meal. If someone in the room - and there are 33 people dining - doesn't clean everything from their bowl, even the tiniest grain of rice or a chili seed, their watery dregs go into a bucket that everyone must drink from.


I try to be tolerant of the yappy woman with the dirty dishes sitting next to me but fear of the bucket water is giving me heartburn. Eventually we're given the all clear. Westerners probably wouldn't have to drink the bucket water anyway, we're told later, but it's a salutary lesson in the value of food.


Fools wait for a lucky day, but every day is a lucky day for an industrious man.


The temple bell gongs once, twice, three times - 25 more to go. As an alarm clock it's more like having rose petals dropped on your head than a slap in the face, but still, it's 3am.


The next-door neighbours rouse themselves for the dawn ceremonial service and their last chance for the 108 agony bows. It's easier to roll over on the sleeping mat, snuggle into the underfloor heating that Koreans have used for centuries, and snooze luxuriously till daybreak.


By the time I push open the shutters the monks - and some more motivated visitors - have already worshipped, meditated and eaten their morning meal. While there's no pressure to do any of the temple activities, I think, "Shiftless piglet, must do better".


After their morning rituals the silent monks sweep leaves off the path leading through a forest of sea pine to Hongryeonam, a small temple built into the cliffs.


On the way to the temple there's a stone statue of the goddess of compassion rising from a carved lotus bloom. Standing 16 m high the statue took six years to complete and can be seen by ships at sea.


This may or may not be a good thing. Naksan Temple is only 50km from the Demilitarised Zone between North and South Korea. A barbed wire fence stretches along Naksan beach and the temple grounds to keep out North Koreans invading from the East. Sea. Stones hanging on the fence act as an alarm - if the stones fall, look out for North Koreans.


Even at this hour South Korean soldiers are up patrolling the temple's cliffside perimeter fence. Of all the little cultural contrasts on this trip, this juxtaposition between peaceful temple life and potential military threat is the most jarring.


It's impossible, though, to think troublesome political thoughts when the birds are singing and the sun is an orange flash on a pewter sea.


By the mind the world is led, by the mind the world is drawn.


Koreans drink pots and pots of tea. For Buddhist monks the Dado Tea ceremony is a solemn ritual that clears the mind and rejuvenates the body. The plain pottery tea service is laid out on hewn chunks of pine in a sunlit room. Seunim pours out four different kinds of green tea. Look at it, observe its colour and smell - don't just drink it like sake, she tells us.


We drink cup after fragrant cup. Nothing is wasted. Used tea leaves are good as a facial scrub, or fried in sesame oil as a vegetable.


A young Singaporean woman slips inside the room, a little late. She's mastered the 108 bows. For days she creaks around like a bandy-legged cowboy, but she's stretched her boundaries as well as her body, and she's smiling.


* Karen Goa was a guest of Korea National Tourism Organisation and Korean Air.


Where to stay


The Buddhist Jogye and Cheontae Orders run a temple-stay programme throughout Korea.


Try these:

Naksan Temple, Naksan, Gangwan-do (nearest airport, Sokcho)

Sinheung Temple, Mt Seoraksan State Park, Gangwan-do, (nearest airport, Sokcho), Ph 0392 636 7393

Haeinsa Temple, Gyeonsangbuk-do (nearest airport, Daegu)


Facilities and costs


Facilities are basic but comfortable. Rooms sleep two to six on mats. Expect communal showers and Asian-style toilets.


Average cost NZ$70 a night, including meals and temple activities. Monks may not speak English but translators are available, or excellent guides can be hired. Contact Stephanie Im at gonnabe@empal.com



Getting there


Korean Air operates daily from Auckland to Seoul and has frequent flights from Seoul to domestic airports near the temples. Buses available from airports to most temples


More information


Korea National Tourism Organisation, Sydney


612 9252 4147, fax 612 9251 2104, email visitkorea@knto.org.au,
www.tour2korea.com



Korean Air is a Skypass Alliance member.


(09) 914 2000, fax (09) 914 7778, www.koreanair.co.nz



In Seoul, flights from Auckland connect to 80 destinations including many in Europe and North America.