A couple weeks ago we took a trip to the east coast of Korea with our good friends Scott and Petey Smith. Without realizing it, we had arrived on the afternoon of a Korean celebration called Daeboreum, which is observed on the evening of the first full moon of the lunar new year. It was our good fortune to be some of the only westerners there that day to witness the proceedings.
As the sun set, a large crowd gathered on the beach and lit a huge bamboo bonfire. A group of people dressed in colorful garments began to play traditional drums and gongs. Although we have seen similar performances at a touristy folk village near our house, it was quite fascinating to see it in such an authentic context. The troupe of about two dozen members danced around the fire as they played their music. They seemed pleased that we were there, and indicated that we should try playing and dancing as well. It was a truly magical moment - even if we weren’t as good at it as they were.
Suddenly the leader of the band (incongruously dressed in a business suit) called for silence and pointed at the sea. There, over the ocean, a blood red moon was just starting to rise above the horizon. At this point a group of Buddhist began to chant, and the man in the suit began to light fires in metal cans that had handles attached. Once the fire were lit in a can, it was handed off to a person in the crowd who then began to swing the fire in vertical circles. I thought this was particularly apropos because my students had just finished studying this is Physics class. Well you can imagine how happy I was when the man indicated that I should take a turn swinging fire over my head! I applied myself to the task with great enthusiasm until the fire in the can went out.
As the bonfire died down, the crowd began to disperse. We thought the fun was over, but as we were heading back to the car we noticed that people were lighting paper lanterns. We finished off the evening by watching a parade of red lanterns float out over the waves, over the rocks that are said to be King Munmu’s tomb, and up into the moonlit sky. We all felt very fortunate to have experienced such a magical and unexpected Korean tradition.
A special thanks to Scott and Petey for providing these pictures. I had left my camera at home, and my phone was out of memory.
