The Beat March 2003

Hey Jim,

Last weekend when the computers in Korea were crashing because of “a foreign virus,” I jammed in the Korean mountains with my wife, baby daughter, and a groovy Lady Shaman. We went to seven different mountain shrines to pray for the best in the Lunar New Year. Also the Lady Shaman told me it would help pull me out of what's been a long term, kickass gloom...

I'll tell ya it was one cold motherfucker up there! A brother gets used to the merciful winters down here. But we were five hours north of Busan and much higher up. I kept thinkin', Jim wouldn't be such a pussy ’bout the cold. That son bitch probably be runnin' round buck naked humpin' the choicest lookin' tree not to mention the Lady Shaman who wasn't too bad at all...

It was mighty fine to be in a place that was quiet and people were in short supply. The first shrine we visited was on the top of a pretty serious mountain. An apprentice Shaman dude drove us up a pretty dicey dirt road in his four-wheel with chains on the tires. The Lady Shaman reassured us the "spirits" said everything was copasetic. We wouldn't die; at least not that night.

When we got to the top, I thought I was in the American West. Two men appeared out the shadows. They were middle-aged guys with ponytails who I swear were Native Americans. Not just because of appearance, but also because of a sociable sort of modesty. The way they smoked their cigarettes, standing outside in the icy cold, was so nonchalant you would have thought it was a balmy spring afternoon. Yours truly was shivering like a frozen puppy. Only radiant smiles, plus a remarkable ease with my daughter, gave them away. Definitely not just a couple of guys off the rez. Later I found Out these guys were the two of the top healing shamans in Korea...

The Mountain Spirit shrines were shacks surrounded by small glass and metal structures full of burning candles. Inside the shrines there were altars with large bowls of rice along with candy piled high and a few green liquor bottles. Evidently the Mountain Spirit, besides eating a traditional Asian diet, has a sweet tooth and grooves on a bit of the demon rum. On the altars in front of all this stuff were traditional temple candles and incense burners. Behind every altar was a wall-sized mural painted in vivid greens, reds, and golds. In the middle was the Mountain Spirit; a serene white bearded guy in a mountain clearing sitting in meditation. A large tiger was always lying docilely by his side. In front of each altar was a space big enough for maybe three or four people and a couple meditation pillows... We lit the candles and some incense, then we all took turns doing seven deep bows in front of the altars. My wife did her bows with our daughter strapped Korean style on her back.

WHOA Jim! I just took a break from writing your letter to order lunch. When I walked into the living room our new cleaning lady had her back to me washing the balcony windows. I'll tell you son that woman's got herself some serious buttocks! She's ’bout thirty-five and definitely in the full bloom of womanhood. A brother sure like to get next to that... I know what you‘re thinkin', but shit Jim a married man got to get himself a little "strange" once in a while, don't he? Ok, ok, I'd best start takin' care my propers at home before I be thinkin' ’bout anything else....

So we repeated the bowing ceremony at six other shrines near where we were staying and finished about two in the morning... I sussed a few things out while I was stranded up there in mystic winterland. First, if I ever do this again I need outdoor gear. It's hard to concentrate on anything when you‘re in misery. But the Lady Shaman really got a kick out of my discomfort. That woman's got a lot of Mercury in her. She's in her forties but is still childlike. She made these beautiful miniature snowmen for my daughter, using pine needles to make the faces. Other times she'd lie down in the snow and make angels, then motion to us to dive in. She'd laugh at me for worrying my baby would catch pneumonia...

Now here comes the spooky stuff: At the third outdoor shrine the Lady Shaman turned to me in the middle of lighting the candles and incense. “You don't have to pretend to be a perfect husband and father. You‘re a wanderer. Go where you want. Your spirit will be a prisoner if you spend too much time at home…” Remember my wife is translating all this...

The world trembled on the edge of a precipice... The Lady Shaman went on. “But your wife and daughter know you will never leave them. You will always come back.” Jim, she sure as hell has got my number all the way around! At maybe the fifth shrine, I'm not sure because I got lost in the ritual, but I remember it was outside with a huge stone statue of the Mountain Spirit. We had just finished bowing and were standing in front of the altar hands pressed together in prayer. I heard sobbing. I looked to my right and saw steaming tears flooding down my wife's cheeks. Later I asked what had made her cry. She said she was sorry she had been so mean to me...

Ain't that the truth. She's been so nasty for the last two months that when she gave me a Christmas present I asked her if it was a suicide kit. Of course I did kind of screw up a little. I am not sure what happened that night. I guess she forgave me. She's sure been sweet to me since. I'd say it's probably bout time we started tradin' a little sugar again. In fact, if we don't our marriage could be history...

Early the next morning I was squattin' over the outhouse abyss. Jim, the Asians sometimes don't have a crapper, only a squatter. I commenced to thinkin' how I don't see details like I used to. There are different reasons for this of course: destructive personal habits, a sculpting of perception that comes with age. But I realized another reason is living in a big-ass, chaotic city. I'm constantly being bombarded by information from everywhere. Sometimes I feel like my daughter does when she's really overtired. Just like her I have to shut down completely to keep my brain from exploding. Somebody said, "If living in cities is our fate, then living in great cities is our opportunity." Busan ain't a great city. But I'm here, at least for the foreseeable future. And Busan's got it's own brand of soul. It's in the mountains, the ocean, the shamans, the crowds, the faces, the festivals...

Well Jim, that's about it. By the way, I had a dream the other night. I won an award for making peanut butter kimchi. Do you think it means a brother be goin' native? Nah.
Your Friend,
Guy