Back to the chronological progress of the Korea trip:

• Seoul (April 24-26)
• Kunsan, via Daejeon (April 26-29)
• Back to Daejeon (April 29-May 1)
• Seoul sightseeing (May 2)
• Ganghwado island sightseeing (May 3)

Ganghwado is a small island due west of Seoul and notable for at least 2 things: 1) a heavy Korean marines presence due to the island’s proximity to North Korea and 2) plenty of historical sites.

As I’ve mentioned several times before, I was often dismayed at the hyper-modern and westernized feel of most of urban Korea. Since pretty much everything was built after the war ended in 1953, this was largely inevitable, but me being the overseas Korean looking for what exactly makes me different from all those “Americans,” I was looking for the elusive “authentic Korea” that I got in spades at the royal palace ceremony. I didn’t have to wait long to find more of what I was looking for on this far less modernized island.

Korea during the Joseon dynasty (1392-1910) was known by the outside world mostly by its unwelcoming stance towards other nations; hence the nickname “The Hermit Kingdom” (North Korea is also referred to as such, but the phrase was first used to describe Korea from the 14th through 19th centuries). Proof positive is this stone monument warning foreign ships to essentially keep out of Korean territories:

Unfortunately, French and American soldiers exploring Asia in the late 19th century saw little reason to heed the sign’s warnings and engaged in several skirmishes against Korean forces, as depicted in rather gory dioramas in the island’s museum:

These two images depict Korean forces repelling a French incursion in 1866 (see Wikipedia article for background info):

Take that, Frenchie! Korea wins this round, but as anyone familiar with their 19th century world history knows, western powers were hell bent on opening up East Asia to trade and thereby extending their influence to this part of the world.

In 1871, Uncle Sam’s US Navy took their turn cracking the Korean defenses at Ganghwado:

Ouch. Looks like Corporal Kim took one in the stomach courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue. Though only a minor victory for the US Navy (Wikipedia), it did in some ways pave the way for the eventual forceful opening of Korea to international interests, including Japan’s colonial ambitions.

One interesting historical footnote resulting from this battle is that the US Navy captured a Korean battle flag, and, upon returning home, displayed it in the Naval Academy in Annapolis along with other flags captured in victorious battles. Only recently did the United States agree to return the flag (Navy Times article), and lo and behold, it has returned home to Ganghwado:

It’s always interesting to see how the United States portrayed in other countries, particularly when it’s the country that you consider your “motherland” and the country of your father’s birth. I don’t think any of us (myself, my dad, or my dad’s friend) considered this portrayal of the US as the conquering enemy as particularly strange or profound, but it is worth noting what lessons they took away from this little historical episode: stronger nations forced their will upon small, weak Korea, and would do so again unless Korea became and remained a stronger nation.

Of course, South Korea has become a stronger country, both military and economically, since the war. Nevertheless, I often get the feeling there’s a certain inferiority complex that Korea still struggles with as a result of being humiliated by foreign powers, particularly Japan, and partially relying on US military might to counter the North Korean threat. It’s as if the country is constantly trying to prove itself as the real deal. International troop deployments to Vietnam and Iraq, and even the ’88 Olympics and the ’02 World Cup, went a long way to “proving” South Korea’s status as a serious player on the international scene, but Koreans are still very conscious of the image they portray to the outside world.

As I wrote this, I was reminded to a previous incident in Kunsan which sheds a little light on this particular aspect of modern Korea. While visiting the family gravesite, I noticed some dying flowers left over from a previous graveside ceremony. I raised my camera to snap a photo, but my aunt yelled at me, “Don’t take a picture of that! People will think Korea is a dirty country.”

I know it may be a bit of a stretch to connect a country’s projection of geopolitical strength and one woman’s concern over how Americans may judge the tidiness of its gravesites, but I think they’re both connected to the same inferiority complex I mentioned above. Everyone knows that Korea was once a small, weak, and yes, maybe even dirty country. It’s spent the last fifty years trying to project an image as a modern, westernized power.

Which brings me full circle to my desire to find the “authentic” Korea, the Korea before Baskin Robins, Outback Steakhouse, and cookie cutter high rise apartment buildings, the Korea that is neither modern nor western. I think I found all of it on this trip, and I also have a greater realization of how much this country is still struggling to find the balance.

Korea may still be small, but it is certainly not weak…and no more dirty than, say, New York City. If my aunt is concerned with how outsiders see her hometown, I wonder what she would think of the New York City subways:

(Picture by Rigmarole from Flickr)