36. Diana, Quanah and Renee

Gwangju was going to a special experience from the start: for the first time in Korea I was staying not just with a host, but with an entire host family. My couch surfing contact, Renee, was at work when I arrived, but I was to take a taxi to her family's home. I managed to find their apartment with the help of yet another kind stranger, rang the doorbell and was let in by Renee's mother Diana. She doesn't speak much English (although still more than I speak Korean), but that was not stopping her from being incredibly hospitable. She cooked me a fabulous dinner (and if you've read this travelogue up to this point you'll know that in Korea this means the table was covered with an abundance of delicious food), and by the time my efforts had had any visible effect on this spread of goodness, Renee's sister Quanah had arrived. She speaks very good English, which means that now the conversation really took off (well, after she had added noodles to the selection of foods, that is).
After dinner came the drink, and the gambling. Diana called a friend, who brought her daughters, and a bottle of bamboo-based wine - I'm not sure whether it was juktongju, or jukryeokgo, or something else entirely, but it was tasty. We drank, and ate some more scrumptious side dishes, and talked for a good while, until it was time for the daughters to go home and do their homework. That's when the Go-stop cards came out, and we started playing. Fortunately for my wallet we only played for points, because after a first round of total beginners' luck, I was struggling to even keep track of what was going on. It's a fascinating game with many rules (so many in fact, that it seemed a bit as if they were making them up as they went along), and it seems to be a good mix between strategy and luck. If you want to try it out and are in my neighborhood, let me know - Diana gave me the cards as a gift, and I want to practice!
Sometime during our game Renee finally came home from work, and shortly after that her father. He's a lovely, charismatic man, and - according to Renee - crazy like the rest of the family. The Park family, by the way, is an atypical Korean family as far as I can tell; the relationship the two daughters have with their parents is much more one of friendship, than of the traditional Korean obedience - the family laugh a lot and are full of friendly banter. And yet it was very interesting to witness the change in atmosphere when the dad walked in the door - immediately he was the center of attention, the playing cards and drinking glasses were whisked away, and he started peeling one of those sweet, huge juicy Korean pears - a quick snack before we all went out for more food at Renee's favorite fish place, where he tried to set me up with the cute waitress.
After saengseon hoe and maeuntang it was time to go to bed. And since I've not mentioned Korean sleeping customs so far, now is probably a good time. The Park family had cleared a room for me, and from the looks of it not just any room, but probably the one with the best bed.

I had happily slept on the floor for the previous two weeks, which incidentally is pretty much standard procedure in Korea - their heated ondol make sleeping on the floor comfortably warm at the very least. But this was the luxury version: a bed of "normal" height, with a slab of stone set over an electric heater, the control panel conveniently integrated into the bed.

The next day we went for a picnic in Damyang, a county to the northeast of Gwangju, which is well-known in Korea for its Bamboo forests. But first we went to visit the May 18th National Cemetery, where the victims of the Gwangju massacre and heroes of the Gwangju democratization movement are laid to rest. I had wanted to go there to find out more about what it took for Korea to make the transition to a true democracy. The museum that is part of the memorial site managed to convey the immense courage the protesters showed during the 10 days of resistance, and the heart-braking fate that many of them suffered. I was deeply moved.

After another short drive and a one hour hike through beautiful pine forests, we reached our picnic place: Geumseongsanseong, a large fortress built during the 13th century.

Most of the buildings of the fortress were destroyed during the Donghak movement of 1894, so the interior seems more like a park than a military compound. But a 5 minute walk from the outer wall revealed a small house and stage - the sleeping quarter and training grounds of the Dongjaam, a pair of boy monks who are being trained in the Asian fighting art by their father. We arrived just in time for their training session, and were dazzled by skill of these real-life Bruce Lees.

This post concludes the newest instance of Meet a Stranger a Day - Korean edition. I spent four more days in this fantastic country, but they were filled with travel, meeting old friends, finding a way to recharge my camera's battery, and buying overpriced souvenirs - which is why I'll leave it here. But I'm hopeful - Meet a Stranger a Day will be back, as sure as I'll go traveling again...