Jun 26
Danielle HarmsKorea Stories, Photo Blog Gyeongbok, Gyeongbok Palace, Gyeongbokgung, Joseon, Korea, photos, royalty, Seoul, South Korea

The sound of the Kayagum, a traditional stringed Korean instrument apparently invented 1,400 years ago, played at Gyeongbokgung Palace. They were part of a large group reenacting a ceremony for court elders.
Home Again
Having recently returned to the land of parking lots and fast food, bread and cheese, and friends and family, I find myself in the United States with an an abundance of both sentimentality for all things Korean and newfound time. This blend lends itself perfectly to reminiscence about the last few month’s with the time to write about it.
With a lengthy list of dynasties and kingdoms appearing in its long history, the Korean peninsula has no shortage of palaces and royal sites. Seoul is no exception, and in a short walk around central Seoul, you can easily come across more than one. Despite having lived here for a year, I had never visited the largest of the palaces, Gyeongbok-gung, until recently. Lonely Planet has a less-than-enthusiastic take on Seoul’s palaces, advising that if you visit more than one, it’s about one more than necessary. Heeding their advice, we visited Changdeok Palace in our first month and I mentally crossed Seoul’s palaces off my to-do list.

Changing of the Guard at Gyeongbokgung Palace in Seoul, South Korea.
Looking for an interesting way to pass a Sunday afternoon and with only a few more to spare before departing Korea, we ignored Lonely Planet’s lukewarm review and headed to Gyeongbok-gung on a Sunday afternoon. All remains of Korea’s royal past are generally gorgeous, but like gothic churches in Europe, they can start to feel like repetitive experiences. Contrary to Lonely Planet’s take on the matter, Gyeongbok-gung was hardly another repeat of the same-old thing. With huge halls and soaring eaves, re-enactors standing in colorful garb in front of palace gates and pavilions peacefully perched in lotus ponds, good luck taking it all in with just an afternoon. More
Jun 11
Danielle HarmsKorea Stories, Photo Blog Boseong, culture, food, Korea, tea

The green tea leaves of the Camelliea sinensis plant peak through bamboo fences, the bush that gives the world oolong tea, black tea, and of course, green tea.
Traveling from place to place, I often marvel at the luckiness of creatures who call some of the best places the world has to offer their humble homes. A mere human couldn’t scrounge up enough of anything to land themselves the right to set up shop in Spain’s Alhambra. Yet a number of pigeons air their morning coos over the Sierra Nevada Mountains everyday, nestled among the bright mosaics of that ancient palace. And just imagine the view those plump marmots enjoy each morning, hunkered down like carpet across the alpine terrain of the Rocky Mountain’s higher elevations.
Korea is home to many a marvelous home for living creatures of the non-human variety. While most inhabitants of Seoul’s urban sprawl are packed like sardines into little boxes piled high into the air, critters across the Korean countryside must get a good laugh at all us silly humans. Like the chipmunks scampering around a temple-side bamboo grove of Mudeungsan Provincial Park, or the bees feasting on cherry blossoms in Gyeongju’s Bulguksa Temple, the gentle little leaves of Boseong’s tea plantations rank high on the list of living things passing their days in a to-die-for setting.
Boseong’s colonial history
And the truth is, some probably did die in order for Boseong’s green tea plantations to grow. Although green tea’s presence in Korea dates back to the Silla Dynasty, green tea did not find a place to grow in Boseong’s soil until recent decades. The growing potential of Boseong’s fertile landscape went unsown until Japan occupied and began looking for land and labor to supply the Japanese people with tea to sip. Thus the green tea plantations were born, expressly to serve the families of resented foreign colonizers. During the Korean War, these painstakingly groomed tea leaves were ravaged along with the rest of the country. For years after Korea won its independence, the once-carefully tended rows were left ignored and eventually overgrown. Nearly 50 years later, a Korean entrepreneur, took control of the Daehan plantation and harvesting resumed. Once one plantation was cultivated and thrived, both ecologically and financially, other sprang up too. Now, the town is a world capital of green tea, and the country’s largest plantation grows there, with slope upon slope of smaller farms surrounding it.
To look at the serene rows of the Daehan Dawon Plantation today, the country’s largest green tea farm and a popular tourist destination, you would never guess elements of its tumultuous past embody Japan’s brutal opporession of Korea’s land and people. All visitors are funneled through an entrance starting at a massive asphalt parking lot. But the earthly reminders of honking buses and busy streets end there. Soon a tree-lined path of towering cedars envelope visitors, softening the sun and sounds of the outer world. Soon, you emerge into an expansive view of sun-drenched green tea bushes, perfectly snipped into graceful semicircles unfolding across the hillside’s contours. Like uniform rolls of Crayola green play dough rolled by a precise child’s hands, their playful elegance brings to mind pages of Dr. Seuss and the whimsical topiaries of Chris Van Allsburg.
All about tea

Even a stooped ajumma can't be stopped.
But up close there’s nothing uniform about these carefully trimmed bushes, at least not to the discerning eye. Often that expert eye belongs to the stooped and weathered ajummas (elderly Korean women) who traditionally pick the leaves, one by one. Picked in a similar fashion, those flavorful leaves have been steeped in water and then enjoyed by humans for about 5,000 years (Mayo Clinic). Tea’s popularity has certainly not waned over time, and “today tea is the most widely consumed beverage in the world, second only to water” (University of Maryland Medical Center).
With so much history behind it, it’s impressive that the tea slipping down thirsty throats for generations, come dominantly from one plant: the Camelliea sinensis. A hearty perennial evergreen bush, the Camelliea sinensis gives birth to the same leaves used to make green tea, oolong tea, and black tea. The difference lies in the processing. Green tea leaves are unfermented, while oolong tea leaves are partly fermented, and black tea leaves are fully fermented. Green tea’s famed health benefits also lie in the processing. Green tea is full of helpful little guys called polyphenols, “chemicals with potent antioxidant properties” (UMMC). As leaves ferment, the polyphenol content decreases and the caffeine levels increase. So, the pure and unfermented leaves of green tea keep all the good stuff, antioxidants, while having lower levels of the not-so-good stuff, caffeine.
The classifications of green tea don’t end there, though.
Timing matters too. Tea leaves are harvested about three to four times each year in Korea, affecting the quality and taste of the tea. Those leaves plucked from their stems before Gokwoo (April 20) are of the highest grade offering a mild and fresh taste. Only weeks later, as new leaves fully open to the fresh mountain air, Sejak tea is harvested, one of the most popular teas, often called Jakseol, or bird’s tongue, for the shape of its leaf. As the weather warms and the middle of May approaches, Joongjak tea is ripe for the picking, brown leaves that fill teapots with a thicker flavor. For those with an appreciation for flavors a bit puckery, the green tea plant offers the more mature leaves of the Daejak (often called Ipha) tea. Into June and July, old leaves soaked in water and often served in place of drinking water, are harvested until June and July.

Hi Little Guy: Soak these things in water, and soon you'll some tasty Nokcha.
And then the stooped ajummas raised in a tougher time and oozing practicality must wait for the bushes to go about the business of growing leaves anew to be harvested next year. While the plants are quietly at work, the Daehan Daewon Plantation does not stay quiet. The plants become more flavorful growing slowly in higher elevations.
As the tea takes its precious time to grow and becomes packed with flavor in the meantime, a steady stream of tourists take the bus to Boseong, often getting off at Daehan Plantation, walking through the tree-lined path, and pausing in front of the same striking landscape we paused before. A network of trails wind around the sprawling plantation, but we opted to head up to a small summit at a central hilltop on the plantation. Spring is a perfect time to visit, with cherry blossoms and magnolia trees in full bloom offering a pleasant interruption to the terraced green tea rows. We weren’t the only people to take advantage of this ideal timing, but the crowds were tame compared to the jam-packed trails of some national parks I’ve visited. Rarely did the mild crowds ruin the serene day, and with the exception of a Korean couple asking me to vacate an ideal picture spot beneath a cherry blossom tree, which I awkwardly mistook for an invitation to join the picture, we were left to ourselves.

For just 1,000 won, you too can enjoy a cup of Green Tea after a walk up to the top and back.
Many factors must converge to make land ideal for green tea. Standing atop the peak surrounded with a view of the area’s terrain for miles, you can see most of what makes Boseong an ideal place for tea to grow. About 1,500 millimeters of rain drops need to fall each year, and if you’ve ever spent monsoon season in Korea, you know that’s hardly a problem. The soil is best if it is porous and permeable, the weather must be cool but have a great daily temperature range, and high humidity is a must. With soil slipping beneath our feet on the way up, surprised by the midday heat of a day that began chilly, we shed our sweatshirts. Check, check, and check. Ocean breezes don’t hurt either, and as we took our last steps up the steepening trail, the turquoise blue of the nearby sea shone. Check. Mother Nature must have been thirsty when she cooked up Boseong, with all the requisite factors perfectly in place. There’s plenty to bring you to this area. Gwangju’s Medeungsan Provincial Park was delightful, the Damyang bamboo forest is a popular destination, and there are plenty of beaches to lounge on. But don’t let yourself leave without a trip to one of Boseong’s green tea plantations.
There’s more where that came from. Head on over to Flickr for more photos from Boseong and Gwangju.

The spring colors of lanterns for Buddha's Birthday and blooming azaleas light up Jeungsimsa Temple, just a 10 minute walk from the art gallery at Gwangju's Medeungsan Provincial Park. If you're ever in Boseong, Gwangju is a worthwhile stop.
Apr 11
Danielle HarmsKorea Stories, Photo Blog biking, gyeongju, Korea, spring

After a record-setting winter proved just how cold the month of April can be in Korea, there's nothing better than seeing a tree, or a street brimming with them, blooming with the signs of spring. If a passerby wasn't approaching a walk on this street with enough grandeur, the speakers blaring melodramatic classical music were sure to push anyone in that direction.
The timing of our trip to Gyeongju couldn’t have been better. We left on the tail end of the first week of April and a cycling challenge I am participating in called 30 Days of Biking. It was also smack in the middle of cherry blossom season.

Gyeongju's cherry blossoms aren't a very well kept secret: the area was packed with tourists. Still, the crowds rarely proved so pervasive as to spoil the views or the ability to enjoy the day.
Gyeongju is a city several hours southeast of Seoul and was the Capitol of the Shilla Dynasty back in the day. In recent years the city has developed upon its historic notoriety and along with it made itself into a booming tourist hub, particularly in the early spring when the cherry blossoms that line the streets are in full bloom. As our trips’s organizer told us, it is a city best seen on two wheels.

Tall guy on a little bike. Apparently 6 foot 3 1/2 is not the typical dimension of the bike rental shop's clientele.
My bike was a little on the small side, which was fine because we weren’t riding very fast anyway. The traffic, both human and motorized, was heavy and densely packed, all of us with the same mission: to enjoy the sights, sounds, and smells of a budding springtime season.

Cherry Blossoms don't steal the whole show of the spring premiere here. Magnolias make a notable appearance too.
The best route to take for cherry blossom vistas is to go around the lake. A longer track runs around the lake-front park following the road, and a shorter yet more scenic route follows the shore and surprisingly high floodwalls encircling the lake. From the moment I entered the lake path my vision field turned to a pink, blue, and green hue, the cool colors of spring are here, and temperate weather to boot.

Members of our biking gang.
History and heritage fans should stick close to the area around the tower—the oldest astronomical observatory in all of Asia—as this is where the many tombs of Shilla era royalty are easily accessible. It’s about impossible to miss the tombs, enormous mounds of Earth rising out of the ground as if to remind posterity of the Shilla Kingdom’s prominence in shaping the Korea of today.

With Asia's oldest observatory on your left and a hillsides dappled with entombed royalty on your right, a tourist can't ask for more accessible heritage and history. And if you thought ancient royalty was just a bunch of stuffy aristocrats, those cherry blossomed hillsides hold a few surprises. A short walk brings you to the esteemed ancient site for royal drinking games and the centuries old natural refrigerator.
The Shilla was the dynasty that unified the three kingdoms ruling over the Korean peninsula. They were promptly overtaken by the Koreyo kingdom which ruled the land until the beginning of Choseon. Most of the buildings of note in Gyoengju were constructed in the 700s.

The air was absolutely aromatic with the sweet smell of magnolias, cherry blossoms, and of course, sappy love. A country with a surprising commitment to most things nauseatingly cute, it's little surprise that couples young and old were out in droves to giggle on tandem bikes and the like. But in a country that enjoys Valentines Day so much they created a holiday for the 14th day of every month, what can you expect?
The area immediately around the tower is one hotbed of historical landmarks—including the stone refrigerator built into the fortress which looks over more than 30 tombs—and just across the road is a park where 25 Shilla kings and queens are buried. This park is also home to a replica mound where one of the kings’s burial affects, coffin, and tomb are on display.

Cheomseongdae Astronomical Tower is one of the oldest observatories in Asia. If the ratio of bricks to days was plaguing you, rest assured knowing that the 361 and a half stone slabs used to build this monument are equal to the number of days in a lunar year.
For a truly enchanting experience combining both cherry blossoms and history, a trip to Bulguksa Temple is a must. The temple is a sprawling complex of pagodas, pavillions, living quarters, and various structures for teaching and practicing Buddhism. The entire complex was torched by the Japanese during their ruthless invasion of Korea, and much of it has since been rebuilt.

Constructed in 751 AD and restored in 1973, Bulguksa Temple is a truly distinctive site. In Korea temples are as common as gothic churches in Europe, and as grand as they often are, they can start to feel as bland and predictable. This temple compound, with expansive views of pagodas and mountains, is far from stale. Structure after structure unfolded one after another, each impressive and distinctive.
The lookouts from various parts of the Bulguksa reveal serenely gorgeous landscapes of mountains and forest. For just under $4 one can scale the temple and gaze into the expansive nature surrounding it, pondering the lives of the kings and monks who practiced Shilla Buddhism from this same summit during ancient times.

Bulguksa Temple is steeped in history. There's much to see and learn here, although lacking a personal guide and Korean fluency, I'm sure most of it went over my head.
The local culinary specialty seemed to be Ssambap, a one course meal made up of 30 separate and unique side dishes, or banchan. The place we ate at was nothing to write home about, but there were many places to try the finger-food meal and if banchan is your thing, it’s worth giving it a go. Usually cold and uncooked, banchan often include different varieties of pickled vegetables, raw seafood, and other salty items. If side dishes, aren’t your thing—and you don’t mind paying the premium—there are barbecue beef places in the quaint food village outside the lake.

Pedal on, brave soldier!
If the scenery doesn’t entice you to stop and take it all in over refreshments, then the smells of meat cooking on an open fire might seal the deal. Barbeque is a hallmark of Korean cuisine and hardly hard to find. The samgyeopsal, a pork dish that is basically uncured bacon, was among the best we have had in Korea thus far. The place we ate at had an amazing side salad along with three other delectable varieties of banchan.

Bomunho Lake offers cyclists and walkers a perfect place to appreciate the spring colors lining the water. But cyclists beware, the closer you get to the resorts and theme park, the more densely packed the crowds. Young children on mini motorized four wheelers may appear cute, but should also be considered dangerous.
A trip anywhere outside of Seoul makes for a relaxing weekend, but Gyeongju was a unique blend of history, culture, and natual beauty rarely found so perfectly balanced and preserved.

A worn doorway in Bulguksa Temple.
Jan 23
Danielle HarmsDispatches from the Classroom, Features, Photo Blog

Don’t Pick the Flowers
“Don’t pick flowers,” was the immediate response when my first grade students were asked recently to imagine that our class had been whisked away from our room in Ilsan, South Korea and plopped down on an isolated island with the challenge of governing ourselves. “Don’t pick flowers,” was among the first must-have laws. Our white board was soon overflowing with edicts like, “Don’t catch whales or animals, except cows,” “Pick a president, then be nice to them,” and “Love the nature.” How simple it is to bring law and order to a society. Others included:
- Don’t pollute nature or the sea.
- Stay away from strangers.
- Don’t go to dangerous places.
- Don’t go too far from the group.
- Don’t say bad words.
- Don’t kill animals. Eat rice, fruit, or vegetables.
- Eat what is good for your body.
- Behave.
- Always be happy and work hard for the country.
- Always try your best.
- Stick together.
- Don’t use too much water.
- Every child should go to school for free.
- Be nice to others.
- Don’t go to the deep sea. More
Jan 05
Danielle HarmsFeatures, Korea Stories, Photo Blog Goyang, Ilsan, snow, South Korea

It was a sunny and snowy day in Ilsan on Monday.
After a week spent in the crunchy snow and shiver-inducing temperatures of the Midwest, my winter boots got plenty of use. When it came to packing them for my trip back to Goyang, South Korea, I nearly left them behind, thinking of the snowless streets I had left behind only days earlier. Over-packer that I am, I jammed them in my suitcase just to be safe, and by Monday, I was glad to have them. Christmas day brought a light dusting of snow, leaving about 2 inches of packed powder to derail my rolling suitcase on the sidewalks, but little more than that. As I woke up, jet-lagged and groggy, on Monday, I looked out the window and thought, “Is it snowing?” And snowing it was. A lot. And the flakes didn’t just make an appearance in the morning, but consistently fell in a white flurry all throughout the day. More