I had resolved to leave Korea, but I wanted to take, possibly, one last rip. My decision would hinge on the outcome of this trip. I only had three weeks before my visa expired, and the "con" side of the page was longer than the "pro" side. It could not just be any day-trip to the beach. I decided to go to Kyongju, the capital of the ancient kingdom of Silla, to visit Pulguksa and Sokkuram.

Before I had started learning the Korean language (courtesy of US Army Military Intelligence) five years ago, Kyongju was the only place in Korea of which I had previous knowledge. This was the place, where kings of Silla had devised the military and political strategy, which united Silla, Paekche, Koguryo, and Kaya into a Confucian state, modelled after Tang Chinese influences. Five years ago, I had not been responsible for the decision to learn Korean or, two years later, come to Korea. I had no choice; the US Army decided for me. I had been randomly picked from a pool of candidates, who had scored highest on two multiple-choice tests, to fill a slot in the 37,000-odd American contingent involuntarily serving in Korea. I
could have honorably left, blaming the whole indignity on the US Government, like so many service-members do everyday. Maybe I stayed,at first, because of my live-in girlfriend, or, because, I really wanted to teach. Or, learn more about Korea and Japan, to flesh-out my future graduate studies in Korean or Asian history. Or, maybe, Korea is just so cheap a place to live. Anyway, now I had the chance to
make a true decision about staying or going.

From Pusan to Kyongju by rail is very reasonable and convenient. It only takes about two hours and costs between 2000 and 4700 won, depending on the day of travel and type of train. Bus fare throughout Kyongju is 920 won for an adult individual, and there are only two buses to worry about. Both the Numbers 10 and 11 circuit Kyongju from the terminal to Pulguksa, which is about 8 kilometers from the train station. There is a smaller station at Pulguksa, but some trains do not
stop there. Supplemental to the main circuit, there is a shuttle from Pulguksa to Sokkuram, which costs 2000 won. There are many tourist hotels at Pulguksa, but I like to stay at the Hwanggum Hotel, near the Korean Folk Crafts Village. It is 40,000 won, but it may be the classiest, little hotel I have seen in Korea. The rooms are tastefully decorated and carpeted, with a balcony, television, wardrobe, tables and
chairs, queen-sized bed, and a clean bathroom with a shower and modern sink and American-style toilet. There are several affordable restaurants nearby (I had denjangchigae for breakfast--4,000 won), and the bus stop is right in front of the parking lot. The restaurants nearer to Pulguksa are more  expensive (sogogidobbap--8,000won). But, regardless of the price, it is clean and the people are courteous and not intrusive. Both Pulguksa and Sokkuram cost 3,000 won to enter.

My trip began inauspiciously. I had to start after work on a Saturday night, and only arrived in Kyongju at 12:15 a.m. I quickly saw the bus stop right in front of the station, which is located at the top of the point, where two roads T-sect. Across the T-section, the other two bus stops are located in the middle of an open street market. There is an affordable coffeshop here also (500 won a cup), and the usual
assortment of stores and foodshops. And a one-window red-light "district", encircled by pimping adjumas. I had to find a yohgwan on my first trip, so I entered the central market area. It was the usual circus of multi-colored, neon signs, shuttered storefronts, blaring dance and arcade music, and rushing cars careening through cramped, concrete-paved alleys. Cigarette smoke and the Korean man's spitting call, the most unamorous mating call in the world, but audible for two city
blocks, was only a little more appealing than women vomiting in the street. I found a rundown yohgwan (no recommendation), for 20,000 won, with a bed, 70's era TV, and a cinder-blocked bathroom, and I prayed I could sleep fitfully through the music and other sounds.

Walking is a very good way to meditate and clear one's head. Ascending a
pathway as one gazes at sculptured flora, mountain peaks, and other vistas not only conditions the cardio-vascular system, but also excites the eyes, nose, and ears. Its also self-paced, in a world of automation and regimentation. People don't realize, that one has to retrain the body and mind to relax, not just stop moving. Inaction trains the body to become less perceptive and responsive. The ascents to
Bulguksa, the Land of Happiness, and Sokkuram are both excellent ways to train the mind and body to leave this lower world of automation and enter a higher heaven of clarity and awareness. But be sure to wear sturdy, comfortable shoes!

One starts at the base with the vendors: trinkets, toys, books, silkworm larvae. There is usually a gate to enter; it has a special name, although one never understands the significance. Multi-hued flora suddenly curls over and around, segregating one from the other world outside. There is only one path to walk. At Sokkuram, a long, serpentine promenade leads from the gate to the shrine, sometimes rising, sometimes falling, but placed precariously against the mountain
side. Below are dry river beds full of gnarled trees plunging down into the sides of the mountain. In the distance is a thin mist vailing the human settlements and paddies in the plain. Overhead the trees form a canopy. At Sokkuram, one arrives at Kamrosu, a fountain to cleanse restraint and purge sin; at Pulguksa, one crosses over Panyagyo, the Bridge of Wisdom.

Stairways demarcate the line between this lower heaven and the higher heaven true believers seek. Pulguksa (National Treasure #1) contains two networks of bridges, both enumerated National Treasures #22 and #23. Chilbogyo/Yonhwagyo leads to Kungnagchon, or the Hall of Paradise, where Amitabha Buddha rests. Chongungyo/Paegungyo leads to Daeungchon, or the Main Hall, and two pagoda,
National Treasures, #20 and #21, Tabotap and Sokkatap, dedicated to Shakyamuni Buddha and the eternal tenets of Buddhist teaching, respectively. (There is a beautiful tale of the sculptor and his wife. The husband became so consumed in his work, that he neglected his wife. Since Tabotap cast a shadow upon the pond below, the sculptor's wife drowned herself in the shadow, in order to be near her
husband. When he had completed his task, the sculptor learned of his wife's act, and drowned himself in the same spot.) At Sogguram, there is a stone staircase leading to the shrine on the left of Kamrosu. Again, the mind and body are tested and trained.

One sees many statues of Buddha at these holy places: the historical Buddha (Shakyamuni), the Buddha of the Future (Maitreya), the Buddha of Infinite Mercy, the Buddha of Medicine, and the Buddha of Ultimate Truth (Vairocana). Additionally, there is the Goddess of Mercy, guardians, saints, and an entire pantheon of animals and canonized individuals. And, those golden trinkets in the gift shop. Initially, especially for a Westerner, all these statues of Buddha are
very strange. They are unnatural, covered in gold leaf or carved in marble. They are immense or dimunutive, sometimes with more than two arms. Its belly is protruding, and his eyes are closed. Perhaps he is sleeping or smiling too hard to peer. Is he serenely detached or laughing? If one looks long enough, he seems to breathe, that big belly starts to wiggle outward and inward. Perhaps his eyes are open, looking right through one's own eyes. Now he seems human enough, and more. Perhaps, he is just waiting to talk to some friends.

Leaving and descending, I am reminded of Plato's "Parable of the Cave". For Plato, this apparent world is an illusion, like a movie screen displaying characters in a fictional drama. Some individuals, however, learn to see the world as the humble reflection of another reality. These philosophers learn to see the higher world in the lower, and live by the higher ethical standards of the higher world. These philosophers also have the responsibility to educate the people staring
at the movie screen, that it is only a trick of the light. It is unwelcome work, because living in the higher world is more pleasurable, but it is even more pleasurable to have friends in heaven. Descending the paths, rejoining the neon sights and sewer smells, is as depressing.

Then, I had dinner with a beautiful woman, talking, walking, laughing, sharing a movie. We watched Gattaca at a Korean video salon. At first, it seemed seedy, but its a very convenient place to watch a movie with someone else. Relaxing on soft chairs in a nearly soundproof, opaque-glass room with a large monitor is a cross between watching a video at home and going to the theater. And cheaper (only 2,000 won). I thought the movie was just a futuristic sci-fi message flick about the dangers of biotechnology, but for her it was "scary". And, the future is scary.

Its scary, because one only thinks about the future, when the present is bad or just a little lacking. If one exploited the present for all it was worth, the future would not even be a word. Some languages do not even have a future tense. The future is a consolation prize, a punishment for a lack of training. The future is having to make a decision, because one has not trained well. Actions should just flow from the preceding ones, not be jarred by doubts. The future is scary, because we are faithless, to others and to ourselves. The future is our hell for lack of training.