FROSTBITE. I never truly understood the word until I got out of the warm bus and into the blustery cold winter of Gyeongju, South Korea. The temperature is in the minus and all I have on is a bomber jacket over a thin shirt and a single layer of jeggings.
Gyeongju is an hour’s bus ride north of Busan or a four-hour ride southeast of Seoul. It is widely known as a museum without walls because the entire city is populated by numerous historical structures, treasures and artefacts that aren’t confined in a museum box. Most of them date back to more than a thousand years. Designated as a UNESCO World Heritage city, all that’s here are either in their original form, completely intact, or have been restored to their former glory. Suffice to say, every path and nook in Gyeongju is filled with fascinating stories of a glorious past.
The city is steeped in history by virtue of it being the seorabeol (capital city) of the ancient kingdom of Silla, which ruled much of the southeastern part of the peninsula from 57BC to 935AD. It’s also affectionately known as Geumseong (City of Gold) because of its wealth in Korean culture and for being home to the kingdom’s elite society as well as the Silla court. It was only in 940AD, during the reign of King Taejo of the Goryeo dynasty, that it was renamed as Gyeongju (literally translated as congratulatory district).
In addition, the city is also surrounded by the outliers of the Taebaek range, making it an alpine region. The Taebaek range is one of the largest in the peninsula. About 500 kilometres in length, it stretches on the eastern edge from the Hwangnyong Mountain in North Korea to Busan in the south of South Korea.
The most fascinating part about these mountains is their role as a sacred space for Buddhist pilgrims and monks to call home. There are many hidden grottos, temples and monasteries in these outliers, most notable of which is the Seokguram Grotto located a few kilometres’ hike from Bulguksa Temple on the outskirts of the city. This grotto houses a 3.5-metre Buddha statue inside a man-made cave and is regarded as Korea’s most valuable national treasure.
Sadly, many, if not all of these holy sites have seen various destructions and assaults from countless invasions. Fortunately, most were rebuilt and restored after the Japanese annexation during World War Two.
OLD WORLD CHARM
Although Gyeongju is famed for its old world charm and has managed to retain much of its traditional architecture, it isn’t entirely untouched by modernity. “It’s slowly becoming like any other city,” sighs my friend Seonmi, who has come to pick me up from the bus station.
Blooming like unsightly fungus, contemporary structures jostling for space between more ancient beauties are slowly becoming a common sight, much like its neighbours, Busan and Daegu. Indeed, the hanok (traditional Korean house) that I’m staying in for during the duration of my three nights here also sports an archaic exterior but fitted with a modern interior.
On the outside, the house is made of wooden beams and stones, fortified with red clay walls, and finished with the cheoma (curvy roofs synonymous with traditional Korean architecture) and traditional roof tiles known as giwa. The interior, however, is equipped with all the modern conveniences you can think of, such as a mini refrigerator, air conditioning and a modern bathroom complete with bidet and heated shower. Apart from the identity crisis, the room is cosy for two. And the best thing about it? The heated flooring (ondol) that’s keeping me warm through the chilly winter weather.
The courtyard of the hanok feels a little desolated with dried grass, empty flower pots and cold steel garden furniture. Well, it is winter after all. The only splash of colour to brighten the gloom is the pretty traditional Korean clothing (hanbok) hanging in the showroom next to the pantry. Drawn to the glitter of sequins like moth to flame, I couldn’t help but part with 10,000 KRW (RM38) to rent a beautiful black and pink number for my hour-long little walk around the village. My Korean doll look is finished with a cute pink butterfly headband.
BRAVING THE COLD
Decked in my flimsy hanbok, I stroll along the cobbled-stone alleys that lead to many other hanoks, some as old as 500 years. A sudden stillness permeates the air as I walk along the pathway. My startled look is caught by my friend who proceeds to explain in a serious voice: “Oh, you see those hills in front of you? They’re the Daereungwon Tomb Complex. Usually people won’t make much noise around them because they don’t want to disturb the dead.” I suddenly feel a chill travel down my spine and it isn’t from the cold.
The complex houses 23 large tombs, all of which are conveniently located next to the traditional village I’m staying at. Superstitions aside, each tomb contains several remains and thousands of artefacts from the Silla royal family and other nobility.
The most popular of the tombs I duly discover is the one known as Cheonmachong and the largest one, Hwangnamdaechong. Both of these tombs were excavated during the 1970s and researchers discovered that they are the resting places for the king and queen respectively. Thousands of royal jewels and artefacts were unearthed from the tombs, illustrating the lavish lifestyle enjoyed by the rulers. Meanwhile, all the other tombs were left untouched.
As my one hour rental of the hanbok came to an end, I was more than happy to shrug off the thin dress and welcome the warmth of my down-feather parka. That and the delicious hot bowl of beef soup served at a homely restaurant next door.
LIT BEAUTY
Most villages in rural Malaysia would be cloaked in a blanket of semi darkness when the clock hits 9pm as most kampong folk tend to turn in quite early. But this doesn’t seem to be the case here in Gyeongju. I notice that as the sun goes down, more lights are switched on, basking the city in a dancing shimmer of red, blue, white, and yellow.
The most beautiful night view of them all is the Anapji Pond. “You’ve got to see it,” enthuses my friend Seonmi as she bundles me in another layer of parka. By now the temperature has dropped further to minus 10 degrees Celsius.
The pond is an artificial pond located inside the compounds of Gyeongju National Park. It was formerly a part of the Silla palace complex, Banwolseong, constructed by order of King Munmu in 674AD. During the day, its dark and stagnant water isn’t much of a sight. But when night falls, a magical calm envelopes the area and the only sound you’ll hear is the gentle breeze.
The only light you’ll see comes from the lamps shining on the ancient pavilion beside the pond. Its yellow and orange glow reflect beautifully on the surface of the pond, which resembles a large, glistening mirror.
A quick stroll around the pond and I stumble upon a pile of stones under a barren tree opposite the pavilion. They’re curiously stacked on top of one another. “It’s one of our childhood beliefs that if you can stack a stone on top of the other and the stone stays put as you make a wish, your wish will come true,” explains Seonmi. Hesitantly, I pick up a stone, make a wish and pile it on top of the highest stack. To my surprise, it stays put. We’ll see in the near future if what I wished for will come true.
As the weather takes a turn for the worst, Seonmi and I decide to head back to the hanok for some much needed heat. Although I do love the coldness of winter, Gyeongju’s extreme temperature of minus 10 with strong winds blowing at 23 kilometres an hour is too much even for me. I can’t wait to get into my modest room and enjoy a hot shower before snuggling under my heated blanket. I guess some modern touches aren’t too bad after all.
*Pictures by Sulyn Chong