Korean Temple Stay (동화사)

On New Years eve I did a temple stay at Donghwa-sa temple, outside of Daegu, where we could get a taste of the Korean monk's daily life.  We wore traditional clothing and moved throughout the complex to different buildings where we met monks, chanted, bowed and prayed with them (a Buddhist monk spends the majority of their waking hours praying and meditating).  Additionally, we each made a Buddhist necklace from 108 wooden beads (one for each sin man is prone to according to Buddhism).  To do this we had to fall to our knees and bow deeply, then string a single bead, after which we would stand, then go to our knees again and repeat until we had done this 108 times, completing the necklace.

In the evening we were able to have a long Q and A with one of the monks over tea.  I've often been curious about what drives people to become monks.  Fortunately, one person present soon asked that question.  The monk told us that he used to own a music store in the city and had a fairly normal life.  Then one day he heard a monk out on the street singing and it touched something in him so deeply that he decided to quit his job and business and begin studying Buddhism.  Perhaps there were other factors at work besides that, or maybe it really is was as simple as that for him.



My own question was:  'What did you family and friends think when you chose to become a monk?'  His answer, to paraphrase from his Korean: 'I didn't tell them at first that I was going to become a monk.  I told them that I was moving to Japan to find a wife, and then left.  But I didn't go to Japan, I came to the temple to live and study.  When I eventually went back and told my (Catholic) parents that I had become a monk, they told me to leave and cut up my baby shoes (an act which apparently means you're not welcome to come home again).  I wasn't quite clear on what the reaction of his friends was, but there you have it--not an easy sacrifice.

The best thing about doing a temple stay on this particular weekend was that we could be there for the New Year's eve festivities.  After we finished the praying and activities on our day's schedule we were free to wander the grounds at night.  We went to the main area after ten or so where people were gathering from all over to welcome the new year.  At the stairs leading to the heart of the temple, where the festivities were taking place, women handed out hot drinks and boiled potatoes, very welcome in the absolutely frigid night air of December 31st.

A table set up in the central area had a long and wide paper, like a giant tapestry, splayed out on top.  Here would could take a marker and write our wish for the new year.  When that had been finished and we entered the final hour of 2011, performers and instrumentalists came out in front of the main building and began to play and sing.  A large dance began, and though I didn't immediately jump in, all of us standing to the side were soon energetically encouraged to join.  A large ring involving just about everyone there (a couple hundred at least) soon formed, and the ring moved counter-clockwise, then clockwise, and parts spiraled inwards to form another ring so that the two would run counter to each other.  Though it was knew to me, the older folks there seemed to know exactly what they were doing and they were clearly having such a great time that it occurred to me that this was probably something they had done in their own childhood and youth--something that was probably being lost on much of the new generation in Korea.  It was almost like the equivalent of a giant hoedown or square dance or something else of a similar nature.  Even the most elderly faces there were lit up with excitement and laughter.

When the dancing had finished and the clock had wound down to the final fifteen minutes or so before midnight, a line formed towards the temple bell.  While we waited in this line the traditionally costumed dancer, who had spearheaded the larger circle dance a moment before, took the long banner of paper with everyone's wishes written on it, lit one end of fire and then did a dance in which she fluttered and wound the banner until it had been completely burnt away.  I think the idea is that burning the wishes sends them out into the air and the world for the new year.

When it was our turn we were led to the temple bell (four could go at a time), where we all grabbed the wooden caber and rang it once.  By the time we had finished and wandered around a bit more it was after one in the morning and, since we were doing a temple stay, we were due to get up at 4am for morning prayers.  I went back to my quarters and crashed on the floor.

I felt like I came to a few minutes later, waking to the sound of some children asking each other in Korean: "should we wake the foreigner?"  "I'm up," I said blearily cracking my eyes open to find three kids regarding me from a few feet away.  I pulled my carcass up off the floor and shambled outside, then made my way to the largest building with the other temple stayers where we were due for a good hour or so of bowing and praying before breakfast.

Later, after eating, to finish off the experience we were instructed in the finer points of performing a Korean tea ceremony by one of the women of the temple.  It was a good way to finish off the weekend, sitting on a heated floor and drinking something hot.  After that it was time to head out for home to get 2012 on the go.

A Flat Stanley from students in Norway House, Manitoba, hangs out among the New Years decorations at  Donghwa-sa. The Flat Stanley Project is an international volunteer based activity that gives kids a window into other parts of the world.