If you ever stay at a nice hotel in Korea, go to the bathroom as often as possible. These toilets are incredible. First of all, they look like first class airline seats...cushioned back and bottom, arm rests, probably a recline button somewhere. Actually, they're even better...have you ever been on a plane with heated seats before? Then, on one of the arms is this HUGE array of little buttons--hm, these are in Korean, so I'm not sure EXACTLY what they do, but I spent a good ten minutes one day pushing all of them, and they make the toilet variously vibrate, spray water (in a number of different directions...), and sort of rock back and forth. FANTASTIC.

So this weekend Fulbright took us all to Songnisan, in roughly the middle of the country. Songnisan's a lot like Williamstown. One main street, one big hotel at the end, a disproportionate number of restaurants. Only instead of art galleries, picture old ladies squatting next to the road selling mushrooms (Songnisan's specialty). And instead of Mt. Greylock, the tallest mountain in Korea. And add in the largest free-standing Buddha in Asia, gilded with gold. Hm, maybe this place isn't that much like Williamstown. Scratch that.

Korean hotels look a lot like an American one from the outside, but don't be fooled (I already mentioned the toilets). The rooms themselves, though, are basically 10ft x 10ft of bare hardwood floor. The Korean version of real luxury, though, is to sleep not on the hard floor without blankets or pillows (a la jin jil bangs), but to sleep on a yo--a little mat so thin that four of them were able to fit easily into the little closet in the corner--and to use bean-filled cylinders for pillows. Actually, not the most uncomfortable set-up in the world. I felt very austere and pure lying on my back feeling the beans on my neck.

Across the street was the park. There was a river flowing through, and about 20 groups of schoolkids swimming and wading. The typical swim outfit consisted not of trunks or swimsuits so much as, hm, jeans and t-shirts. Apparently Koreans think it's really strange to change into some special outfit to go swimming, so if they feel like taking a dip they just jump right in. So convenient. Also featured in the park was the "ochre walk," a path filled with small, round, orange stones. When you walk barefoot on it the stones are meant to stimulate the nerves in your feet, which prevents all sorts of diseases including, according to the explanatory sign, "age." Not a bad deal, except it is maybe the most painful experience I have ever undergone (I tried to ignore the old ladies and small children frolicking next to me as I staggered across).

As the giant Buddha might indicate, Songnisan is also home to a pretty significant temple. At 6:30pm and 3am every day the monks who live there carry out their prayer ceremony...I felt kinda awkward gawking at them while they banged a drum (for the insects and quadrupeds), sounded a gong (for those in Hell) and played a fish (for fish) in order to bring harmony to the universe...but it was a nice thing to see. Afterward all the monks and nuns filed into the main temple to chant...wow, I've really only heard Georgian chanting before, but that's nothing compared to the Buddhist monks. They had melody! And rhythm!

According to the official national census, somewhere between 25% and 30% of Koreans are Buddhist...a professor who came to talk to us, though, said that number was probably a little inflated. Why? First of all, because a lot of time the person who opens the door when the census guy comes is the grandma in the house, and also because on the Korean census "no religious affiliation" isn't one of the options.