NOTE FROM JONAH: These pictures belong to a small series “Two Hours and Twenty Minutes.” The pictures were all taken over the course of two hours and twenty minutes on November 1, 2011 between 3:21 pm and 5:41 in Seoul, South Korea. If you are just joining the series here’s what you’ve missed:
Although I only had one day to spend in Seoul, and was pretty happy to just hang out in my fancy hotel room, I did manage to sneak out for about a couple of hours to take some photos and grab some Korean food.
And after spending significant amounts of time this year looking at architecture and cultural heritage areas in Asia, I decided it would be cool to see some of Korea’s traditional housing, which just like Beijing’s hutongs, is becoming scarce.
Traditional homes in South Korea are called hanok houses. In stark contrast to the modern areas of Seoul, these houses seem to be in small bundles and have survived modernization sporadically around the city — unlike in Beijing, where the hutong areas are almost exclusively found within the center of the city.
Hanok is a term to describe Korean traditional houses. Korean architecture lends consideration to the positioning of the house in relation to its surroundings, with thought given to the land and seasons. The interior structure of the house is also planned accordingly. This principle is also called Baesanimsu (배산임수), literally meaning that the ideal house is built with a mountain in the back and a river in the front, with the ondol heated rock system for heating during cold winters and a wide daecheong (대청) front porch for keeping the house cool during hot summers.
Like Beijing’s cultural heritage areas, these houses and the small alleys which connect them have been preserved, gentrified and rebuilt. However, I didn’t see anything that resembled Qianmen, a historically significant area south of Tienanmen Square which was redeveloped into a disastrous shopping arcade that looks like a movie set.
Unlike Beijing’s hutongs, the hanok houses within Seoul seemed to be in good condition. While Beijing’s hutongs are cluttered and crumbling, Seoul’s hanok houses seemed to be holding up very well.
Near the hanok houses, I stumbled upon Changdeok-Gunk Palace, an UNESCO World Heritage Area Site. This palace was first built in 1405 and has most definitely been restored.
The park cost 3000 won to enter only (about $3). Compared to other UNESCO World Heritage Areas, this is actually cheap.
Changdeokgung, also known as Changdeokgung Palace or Changdeok Palace, is set within a large park in Jongno-gu, Seoul, South Korea. It is one of the “Five Grand Palaces” built by the kings of the Joseon Dynasty. Because of its location east of Gyeongbok Palace, Changdeokgung, with Changgyeonggung, is also referred to as the “East Palace” (동궐, 東闕, Donggwol). The literal meaning of Changdeokgung (창덕궁, 昌德宮) is “Palace of Prospering Virtue”. Changdeokgung was the most favored palace of many princes of the Joseon Dynasty and retained many elements dating from the Three Kingdoms of Korea period that were not incorporated in the more contemporary Gyeongbokgung. One such element is the fact that the buildings of Changdeokgung blend with the topography of the site instead of imposing upon nature. Changdeokgung, like the other Five Grand Palaces in Seoul, was heavily damaged during the Japanese occupation of Korea. Currently, only 30% of the Palace structures remain.
The palace and architecture reminded me somewhat of the Forbidden City in Beijing. However, unlike in the Forbidden City, I wasn’t approached by anyone selling anything, no one black market tour guides pestered me and in general in wasn’t too crowded.
The funny thing to me, in comparing Beijing’s hutongs to South Korea’s hanok areas and the palaces which represent a similar culture and design, was just how much more calm the Korean side seemed to be. The Changdeokgung Palace was much less crowded than the Forbidden City, yet, there were still large amounts of people in the area. However, the atmosphere is just so much more calm than in a similar place in China. The alleys of the hanoks also seemed much more calm than Beijing’s hutongs. The houses seemed much bigger than the average Beijing hutong, which might mean, people actually have room to live inside and therefor don’t have to hang out, outside, bringing the rif-raf into the streets.
But this hectic feeling, which I’ve become so used to I don’t really blink when I see it anymore, is really all over China, South Asia and Southeast Asia. Its really one of Asia’s most defining characteristics for me. The general atmosphere just seems hectic. However, I think many would think this applies to many areas of the developing world.
I’ve often wondering if this feeling Westerners get in the developing world comes from them missing the order and organizational way of life of the West. The order which tells people when to cross the street, how fast to drive, how close to walk to people, where a car can drive (and where it can’t), or to where someone should sell their products. Perhaps when those things change, the perspective from a Westerner might seem hectic.
But I doubt it feels hectic to someone who grew up in this environment where cars drive on sidewalks, bikes bas busses and in door stores are a minority.
