About two weeks ago we had the biggest snowfall we've seen in Sangju: It came very suddenly. We thought spring had arrived, and woke up one morning to a white city. It was so beautiful.
My school and the river in the foreground of the photo
My darling ducks. Oh how I love them! 
I have had quite a bit of time during the school holidays to catch up on reading, and I’ve really enjoyed it. There is a definite trend in my reading though: I am REALLY enjoying the African novels! As you can see on my reading list on the left, I have recently read three novels by authors in Southern Africa: "Three-letter Plague"," A change of Tongue" and "The Grass is singing". I have certainly gained much more enjoyment and thought stimulation from reading these three books than any of the others I have read.
I guess this is not surprising: I am of course missing home soil, and anything that can 'transport' me back there for a few hours a day will be enjoyable! But not only that. I think travelling opens up ones mind to looking at ones home and home country from a different perspective, and I think I that is how I have experienced reading these books. This perspective brings with it a strange mixture of critical, even negative, thoughts as well as nostalgic, overly-positive thoughts. I can't quite figure it out.
Let me try to explain: these thoughts about my experiences of reading SA books while in Korea sort of 'came to a head' whilst I was reading Doris Lessing's 'The grass is singing'. I read this most recently of the three, however, it is the oldest among them, having been published in 1950. Doris Lessing was the Nobel Laureate for Literature in 2008, and this is probably the reason I stumbled upon this book in a book store in Daegu.
Her writing in this novel is quite harsh: she describes the relationship between a white farmer's wife and her servant, Moses, in southern Zimbabwe. The blatant racism, injustice and even hatred of the whites towards their servants is well illustrated. Reading it from an almost 'international' perspective made me realise how 'immune' we as white South Africans have almost become to racism. It is so normal and part of our lives. So here I am, enjoying a novel set on African soil, the descriptions of the farm, sunsets, earth, bush, wildlife and people are so familiar and pleasurable to me as I read. But at the same time I am struck by the utter ugliness of racism. I think Lessing has done this very well: I truly have mixed feelings about being a white South African after reading this book. I feel blessed to have grown up in South Africa: such a beautiful country, such amazingly diverse people and a wonderful, easy lifestyle. I can appreciate these aspects of it even more now that I am living in Korea as a foreigner. On the other hand, I am almost ashamed of being a white South African, because of how much hurt, hatred and injustice 'my people' have inflicted upon our fellow black South Africans. So, as you can see, I am 'stuck' in my feelings!
To 'unstick' me I can turn to 'A change of Tongue' by Antjie Krog. This is certainly a more positive story, and is set in more recent times in South Africa. Writing almost autobiographically, Krog reminisces a lot about her childhood in Kroonstad, on the farm, in amongst white (racist) farmers. She writes also how she realised at a young age how racism was wrong, but also inescapable in most white communities, especially farming communities. She was an activist with the ANC in Kroonstad during apartheid and it seems that in this way she 'redeemed' herself from the racism so part of her family and community. Her writing was also a valuable way for her to express her feelings which were so contrary to those of the people around her. So one can be saved from this 'shame' of being a white South African. Or so she seems to say. Anyway, food for thought.
"Three-letter plague" has another tone and message completely: it is set in rural Transkei, close to Lusikisiki. This novel was 'closest' to me in terms of setting and I also felt I could identify with the characters more in this novel than in the other two. Maybe because of how much time we have spent in the Transkei: two holidays a year for most of my childhood and until now. The place, and the people, are very precious to me: we have a good relationship with a family down there who take care of our beach cottage for us in our absence, and who we in return help to clothe and feed. They live in incredible poverty, yet they are happy, open and warm people. There’s more to it though: the daughter of the family is HIV-positive, and my Mom has been instrumental in getting her to go to the clinic to have herself tested and put on ARVs. Her health is ever-improving and she has realized the value of this modern medicine. The clinic she went to is one of the clinics administered by Dr Reuter, one of the lead characters in “Three-letter plague”.
The story of Sizwe, the main character in this novel, really spoke to me. But once again, I start to feel guilty for being a white South African, Oh no, there it is, that horrible word: guilt. And ‘White Guilt’ at that. I have always thought I am quite good at not taking guilt upon myself unnecessarily: when things or wrong or I make a mistake I am usually quite good at thinking to myself: “that's life, these things happen, etc." But all of a sudden, here I am in Korea, reading books about South Africa, and the word (and I guess also the feeling) has snuck up on me! In this case, I was just thinking about how I go down to the Transkei for holidays (what a luxury) and Matewu and her family look after our house and we feed and clothe them: it is both a patronising and strangely bizarre set-up. But all it is really, is a clear example of the huge divide between not only black and white, but more accurately, rich and poor in South Africa. And I happen to be on the easier side of the divide. Lucky me. And Mattewu is on the other, more difficult, side of it. And that's life. And I guess all one can do, from our side of the divide is to be aware of it, to appreciate the fortunate situation one finds oneself in and to be compassionate and thoughtful towards those on the other side. (Thanks Mum, for taking one for the team for so long).
So, what all this reading of South African books is doing for me is making me think about what it is to be a South African, and since we’re on the topic, a white South African. This is also highlighted by the fact that so many people we meet in Korea say ‘South Africa????’, with a puzzled look on their face, when they hear where we’re from: ‘White person? South Africa???’ Makes one think! And explaining something as complicated as that to someone with very little English is quite difficult…
If anyone has any good South African novels to recommend/send, I’m ready!
The walk up to the grotto was also really beautiful: it had recently snowed in Gyeongju and the beautiful brightly coloured lanterns which were strung between the trees made for irresistible photo opportunities! Jules, Emily, Shirley and myself certainly had a great time there! The other sights of interest which we managed to take in during our visit were the Tumuli Park where all the Shilla kings and noblemen are buried in huge tombs, the Chomsongdae Observatory tower and the Gyeongju National Museum.
Tumuli park was quite a sight: it is the centre of a vast number of burial mounds which are up to 22m high and have a dimater of up to 82m [This habit of quoting exact measurments of cultural and historical structures is one which I have inadvertently picked up from plaques and signs which accompany such sights - the guidebook is of course also full of them!] These tombs/mounds are scattered all around the city and really bring home to visitors how important this city is in Korean history. Of all the cities we've visited in Korea, Gyeongju definitely feels the most well-preserved in terms of traditional Korea: it seems to have blended modern high-tech buildings and so on quite well with its rich historical architecture and treasures.
The Chomsongdae Observatory tower was, well...cute. And a bit overrated. It looks like a tubby milk can made of stones. It is said to be the oldest observatory still standing in east Asia, and was built in 647AD. I guess this is very long ago for people to have been observing the night sky...but a quick google search verifies my thoughts: the Germans were at it 7000 years ago...take that Korea! Anyway, it is a cute little tower and is made of 361 stones, the number of days in the lunar calendar, which is a nice touch! According to Kim Yong-Nam (2008): "Chomsongdae itself is a very scientific construction and every stone holds all the symbpolic meanings." Nice. We took a photo of it nonetheless!
Our final visit in Gyeongju was to the National Museum. This is a very large complex at which one could spend days learning all about Shilla history and Korean history in general: but the rather poor English translations would certainly make this a rather tedious task! I really find it a pity that one of Korea's premier museums could not track down a single native English-speaker to smooth over the English in the explanatory notices which accompany most displays in the museum. The information contained in these notices was also a bit disappointing and not very informative: once again we noticed a heavy emphasis on dimensions and measurements and dates, and we were often left wondering what the significance of certain artifacts was. Anyway, the museum did enlighten us a bit in the glorious history of the Shilla dynasty and how and why it came to be so important to Korea (go there yourself to find out!)
So all in all we really enjoyed our visit to Gyeongju: we had our fill of sights and tourist attractions and had lots of lovely photo opportunities! Koreans certainly are proud of their history (no surprises there!), and rightly so: they have some magnificent treasures and I think Gyeongju was a great place for us to get to know these treasures a little.
One last rather amusing note: we have picked up a very strong pattern of anti-Japanese sentiment during our touristy visits around Korea. And of course from people we have met; one cannot deny how strongly the Koreans dislike the Japanese. These two countries have had innumerable wars and conflicts, and the jury is out as to who suffered more: The Koreans of course say they suffered much worse at the hands of the Japanese than the Japanese did at the hands of the Koreans. I'm sure the opposite is said in Japan. Either way, almost every temple, statue or other significant structure we have visited in Korea was at some stage burnt down or damaged by "a Japanese invasion" and later re-built by the Koreans. It's frightening, but for us it's got to the point of being a little amusing too: "If the Japanese didn't burn it down, it doesn't exist!"
The Japanese even managed to harm the Buddha in Seokguram Grotto which stayed perfectly preserved for so long: "According to many records of the past, there had been no significant deterioration until 19th century. However, during the Japanese occupation period, deterioration started. Shilla people's scientific and architectural genius [of course!] was so profound that some unexplainable principles had protected the structure from natural deterioration by humidity. But the Japanese attempt to reinforce the structure by applying cement rather worsened the situation by absorbing the humidity. Repair work by Japanese 1913-1915."
Now for the photos:
One of the many explanatory plaques - I hope you can raed it (click to enlarge) - it is so typical of the language used in these notices!
Jules and I have just returned from the most wonderful holiday in the Philippines. We were there for about 10 days from the 29th January to the 8th February. 
