Alrighty... I don't know if this is my 27th Korean adventure. But I've been in Busan for a month already, and I think a pretty reasonable, not-too-conservative estimate of the number of adventures I've had so far is about 1 per day, with perhaps a few exceptions. I plan on reporting on some of my earlier adventures later. This one, I've decided, is number 27.
On Sunday afternoon, after spending a few hours marking assignments at Holly's Coffee in Seomyeon (more on Holly's Coffee later), I headed back home around 5 pm or so. As I approached Baek-yang tunnel, or "백양터널", I came to the entrance of a path leading up Baek-yang mountain (in Korean, "Baek-yang san", or "백양산"). I walk by this path every day on my way to work, and I've been meaning to explore it some time. Though it was late and I was hungry, I decided that a short walk up the path was in order.
As I climbed up from the sidewalk to the path, I understood why, as I walked past it before, I often thought I heard the sound of running water over the noise of the traffic coming out of Baek-yang tunnel. There was a stream flowing down the mountain, and it entered an underground drainage system just before it reached the sidewalk. The path, it turned out, followed this stream as it coursed down Baek-yang san.
A few seconds later, I heard a voice speaking loudly in what I assumed was Korean. A group of three middle-aged men were sitting on a blanket or a tarp on the right side of the path. One of them was speaking loudly in my direction. On the other side of the path sat two women who appeared to be preparing some food. They were sitting in front of a small grille under which a fire appeared to be burning. A kettle was on the grille.
The loud-speaking man seemed to be very excited that a foreigner was passing by. He was trying to communicate with me, but when he realized that all I could say to him was hello ("an-nyong-ha-se-yo", or "안녕하세요"), he began repeating a word that sounded like "man-ji" (although to be honest, I'm not sure I remember correctly at this point what the word he was repeating sounded like). I think he was offering me something to drink because, as I stood there unable to communicate with him, he began repeating the word to one of the women. Seemingly in response, she picked up a bowl, took the kettle from the grille, and approached me. In the kettle was a white effervescent liquid. She poured some into the bowl, and one of the men added water from a plastic bottle into it. I honestly did not want to drink it, as I believed that the brew was made with water from the stream. But the three men, the loud-speaking man in particular, did not seem about to accept that I turn down the drink. I decided that the liquid was probably safe, as I figured that if it came from a kettle, it had probably been boiled. Plus, the three men were all drinking from a bowl identical to the one that was brought to me by the woman. And none of the five individuals who were before me seemed like people who would try to poison me.
The liquid was delicious! I have no idea what it was. It tasted somewhat sweet, but not too sweet. It was also bubbly, but not too bubbly, and it was very refreshing. I drank it slowly, one or two sips at a time. This appeared to somewhat displease the loud-speaking man, as he made gestures that I interpreted as suggestions that I should consume the contents of the bowl in one gulp. After I finished drinking, another one of the men offered me some food, which was also delicious. It was a large piece of tofu with a piece of octopus. I had never yet tasted octopus that was this fresh. He handed me a piece of dried seaweed to go with it. It was also incredibly fresh and tasty.
After I finished eating, the loud-speaking man started gesturing at me again. I thought he was suggesting that I carry on with my walk up Baek-yang san, as the sun was already getting low. I thanked him and his friends, saying the second Korean expression that I currently know, "kam-sa ham-ni-da" or "검서헙니더", and started up the path.
Baek-yang san was gorgeous! I quickly found myself surrounded by forest, with not a sight or sound of the city. The path wound upwards fairly steeply, sometimes crossing the stream, sometimes crossing small clearings, sometimes passing through patches of tall trees. In many locations, people had arranged rocks or built wooden platforms to make rest stops. And in one location, there was a small Buddhist shrine. There was a mythical feeling to this place, and I wondered how long ago it had been constructed.
Because it was late, I could not go very far up the mountain. But I plan on going back soon. I want to find my way to the top, and then down its northern slope. Perhaps next week-end...
As I was leaving the mountain, the five Koreans who had greeted me with food and drink were still at the start of the path. They offered me a drink again, but I gestured this time that I wanted to go, and they signalled me on. One of them said in English; "It was nice". I shook his hand, and that of the loud-speaking man, and again said "kam-sa ham-ni-da". The sun was already below the horizon, below the crest of Baek-yang san, as I walked the rest of the way home.
