Daewonsa (Chuseok Part 2)

On our way out of Jirisan, we stopped by Daewonsa, a Buddhist temple right on the edge of the park. With the exception of Bangnyeonsa, in the foothills behind my apartment building, this was the least crowded temple I had seen since arriving here. This may have been due to the fact that it was a holiday, but it was peaceful and quiet, and had the added advantage of being much larger and more beautiful than Bangnyeonsa. Also, despite the gift shop and parking lot, Daewonsa seemed to me to have a much more traditional feel than the other temples I've visited. Perhaps there is a smaller portion of modern technology and comforts there. I like to think though, that the keepers of Daewonsa have simply done a better job of seamlessly integrating nature, tradition, and modernity.

Here is a photo just begging to be turned into an advertisement for Osprey Packs:

And a few more:

One of the temple buildings was also undergoing renovations, and visitors are able to help finance it. For a small donation, you are allowed to write your name and your wish or philosophy or motto on one of the tiles which will be used on new roof. Of course we had to make our marks. A Korean family was taking advantage of the incentive as well, and made us feel very inept and unsatisfied with our penmanship. The father's writing was so beautifully calligraphic and symmetrical, meanwhile we were struggling not to bleed the letters together and to get an entire sentence to fit on the tile. We blamed it on the broad-tipped markers, but perhaps Buddhist prayers just aren't meant to be written in the Roman alphabet. Here is our handiwork:

I keep hoping that I will catch wind of some information about a secluded Buddhist temple way up in the mountains in rural Korea, accessible only by foot, protected by an impenetrable barrier to all cell phone signals, and populated by enlightened and friendly monks. Unfortunately, a very large portion of the oldest Korean temples were destroyed during the Japanese occupation. Most of the temples are very well built and very beautifully painted, but some are not older than 50 years. It's even a more depressing story in China, I'm told, where temples are destroyed simply because they are relics of the past and because such tradition gets in the way of economic progress. Clearly, I am holding on to my own preconceived fantasies of medieval Asia. Furthermore, I am fast realizing that such solitude is not something easily attained in a country the size of Indiana with a population of 50 million people.

In the meantime, I can enjoy the temples for what they are: often beautiful and blissfully quiet (relatively speaking of course) retreats.