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aventurasdeunatortuga · 5 months ago

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Wednesday, July 17th

As today was one of the few days with a decent weather forecast I signed up for a tour around Busan.

Busan is way more spread out than Seoul, so I’m glad I took a tour for this, otherwise it would have taken days to see all of this.

The first place we went to was a Buddhist temple called Haedong Yonggungsa along the coast. Korea is primarily Christian, pre-Joseon period Korea was mainly Buddhist but in the Joseon Dynasty in the late 1300s they changed the state religion to be Confucianism, and then Christian missionaries from France arrived in the late 19th century. This temple was first built pre Joseon Dynasty in the 1300s but, like most historic sites here, was destroyed during the Japanese Occupation and the Korean War and was later rebuilt after the war.

After visiting the temple we went to a small town named Cheonsapo about 2km outside of Busan. We saw the some pretty lighthouses and were able to watch some people diving. On Jeju Island there are women called haenyo, who for generations have practiced diving. They are able to hold their breath and free dive (without equipment) deeper than should actually be possible, no one really knows how they do it, but it is an art that has been practiced for generations by the women there. They mainly dive for abalone. During the Korean War this practice began dying out, and there are only a few haenyo left and most are in their 70s and 80s. A lot of people from Jeju immigrated to Busan during the Korean War, about 30% of the population in Cheongsapo comes from there, and there are a few haenyo who practice diving here as well.

We had a lunch of seafood and then got on board what is called the Sky Capsule, a teeny tiny train that can fit about 4 people inside and goes on an elevated track along the coast at about 5km per hour. It was very pretty. Underneath it runs the Blue Line Train, which was first constructed by the Japanese and is now a tourism train between all the tiny towns on the coast. You could actually see Japan from there, one of it’s islands is only 48km away, I didn’t realize how close it was.

Then we went and visited two villages referred to as “culture villages”, Huinnyeol and Gwancheon. Both of these villages were built by refugees from the Korean War looking for any place to establish themselves and were originally constructed from scraps and whatever people could find on land high in the hills outside the city; the houses are all very close together and unique looking, very similar to the moon villages in Seoul at Ilhwa-dong. Over time the land here accumulated in value and the residents are now mostly elderly and do not want to sell their land, but because many elders here were working in a time of turmoil there wasn’t the chance to save for retirement so they still need to generate income and the government hired artists to paint murals all around the villages to draw tourism, similar to the moon villages in Seoul, however what is different about the villages here is that the neighborhood seems like they have banded together to make something of a neighborhood watch committee to protect the residents from the impacts of overtourism. There were teams of residents in fluorescent vests patrolling the village to make sure that the tourists don’t leave trash or act rowdily and disrupt the residents. It also seemed like more of the businesses were locally owned, I thought this was really cool.

The first village was along the coast and was all white with colorful murals here and there, it seemed like something out of the Mediterranean, I had some mango bingsu (shaved ice with condensed milk) and walked around. Gamcheon village is more in the hills, and was definitely more touristy. They had a Little Prince theme to most of the art, with so many murals of that book with quotes everywhere. It was very pretty, but even with the neighborhood committee it was still extremely touristy and the crowds were a bit crazy.

In the evening I had dwaeji gukbap, pork soup, known as one of the signature dishes of Busan. For desert I had a local desert called Salt Bread, a really soft croissant filled with cream and topped with this special kind of salt they make here which I don’t know why but it tasted so good.

Until tomorrow,

#busan #travel #solo travel #korea #south korea

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a-chuffed-floating-panda · 3 months ago

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A love in the eye of the hurricane ch27 (unedited)

(Originale posted 16 November 2022 sleep deprived period. Slightly better edited chapter)

Jamyang frowned at the panda across from her. “But that’s not possible.” She moved her hands from the mudra she held them in and set them on top of her knees.

He opened an eye to look at her. “Is it not? Chi comes in many different forms.”

Aden once spoke about using nature-energy to bend, instead of the chi in his body. Using different energies to bend was possible, Jamyang knew that, but she’s skeptical, of course.

She’s sitting cross-legged, meditating in front of the Guru Panda- it’s going to take a bit for her to get used to Fēngmǎn- in the spirit world. Not in the spiritual spots in the Wudang mountains and not in the old meditation circle beneath Yonggungsa.

Bending in the spirit world was impossible because the body was in the physical world. That’s what the teachings said. It was also what the nuns said. They said that the teachings helped you should you manage to enter the spirit world, non-violence, no malice and no anger. You’d be defenseless if a spirit became angered.

Jamyang wasn’t, though. Thanks to the techniques in Dorjee’s scroll. Not bending, but she wouldn’t be completely defenseless.

“Chi is everywhere, Jamyang.” She’d heard that sentiment echoed multiple times over the years. “And it’s at your disposal. You just have to approach it with a different mindset than when you bend with the chi in your body.”

Humming to herself, she resumed her meditation and reached out with her chi. It was everywhere. That’s what everyone said. Then she didn’t need something specific to reach out to.

Jamyang reached out and received an ocean worth in response.

She furrowed her brows, overwhelmed at the energy. A bead of sweat slid down her temple. It sloshed around her, heavy and uncontrollable.

It was difficult to keep her cool and not let the rising panic in her chest get to her. The energy, the chi, sloshing around her felt exactly like the day when water filled the caves when she and Gawa were in them.

Things didn’t get better when it roared in her ears.

Standing firm and fighting the currents- pictures from Koko-chan’s endurance training surfaced in her mind-, she tried to control whatever chi she managed to catch and hold on to. She wasn’t successful; it evaded her attempts at molding it.

“You can’t control the ocean,” she heard him say. “The ocean is untameable and bows to no one.” She’s sitting, but her leg muscles were burning. “That’s what Koko-chan says.” She managed in between huffs. Ah! Almost. Annoying. Slipping through her fingers like that.

The roaring recessed and a… hum? A smooth, stuttering humming took its place. Wait… was it laughing at her?

“That’s new. How interesting.”

She scowled and got more insistent in her attempts.

“Does this Koko-chan have red hair, by chance?” Jamyang stumbled when she lost her grip on the chi. “Yeah, she does. What does it have to do with anything?” Yes! A grip.

“What does she say about power and the ocean?”

“To borrow from the ocean, never take.” Oh. Wait. The chi took advantage of her slackened grip and escaped. Jamyang sat there for a couple of seconds and made no attempt to pull at the surrounding chi.

“Oooooh.” Guru Panda chucked.

She tried again and managed to mould a small amount of it. Opening her eyes, she looked down at her hands, that were coated in golden chi. The feeling reminded her of the soft wooly panda fur.

“Woah!” She held them up to her face to look at it closer. It flowed like water, but was warm like fire. “You picked that up quickly. Try to bend it.” He said, his beard shuffling just like Abbot Dorji when he smiled. “Aim it at the wall.”

Fuelled with excitement, Jamyang did just that. A simple air punch. She gasped at the sight.

It shot out from her fist and formed a golden cloud that gently rustled the equipment that hung on the wall. Not exactly airbending, but similar. Sort of like the ancient airbending murals, where the bending looked similar to clouds instead of wispy air.

Was there such a thing as old airbending?

“Yes,” he answered without her asking. “there is. It’s the bending that we pandas use.”

“You were never one to be up late with maudlin thoughts, Aya-chan.” She lowered her brush from the canvas and slowly turned to where the voice was coming from.

A woman stood to her side, dressed in a blue yukata with her hair down; Golden bells decorated her strands. Aya gulped and put her brush down. She’s so achingly familiar. There’s the urge to hug her, but she doesn’t. There’s the urge to do a lot of things, many that she couldn’t explain, but she doesn’t; walking through muddy memories to figure out who this was.

The woman only smiled.

Aya glanced back at her unfinished painting of Otsune, Kiku and Chūkyo; her closest friends, according to her writings. Smooth hair, dark like blood and deep violet eyes that creased whenever she smiled- Oh.

“Otsune…?” She started carefully. Waterfall. They used to braid each other’s hair behind a waterfall, right? There was a boulder behind that waterfall too, wasn’t there? They’d sit there for hours into the night, braiding each other’s hair and talking. Memories of those moments with laughter flash behind her eyelids.

She hummed, sounding impressed. “You remember me?” Barely. She couldn’t even remember someone so important to her? Chosen sisters were important. Who was she? The guilt gnawed uncomfortably beneath her ribs. “Sort of.” She answered her hesitantly. “It’s all-,” she waved her hand around. “Muddy. I’m missing details, I think.”

Her gaze softened and Aya saw more in her eyes that showed her more than just chosen sisterhood.

“What do you remember?” Her voice was soft and her head tilted to her side.

“There was a waterfall, and we used to braid our hair behind it.” Otsune took a step closer. “And there were boulders we would sit on and, we’d pretend, I think, when we were children that we were spirits on adventure.”

A voice, old like herself, warm and… familiar, said somewhere in the back of her mind. “Oh my, travelling spirits? How can I be of service?”

“Aji! We’re on an adventure!”

“What type of rock was it?”

“I don’t remember, but they were light. Limestone or sandstone maybe?”

Otsune’s close enough for her to reach out and grab her, but she didn’t. “What else do you remember?”

“We, we used to-.” An image of tall buildings flashed in her mind. “-go to Omi village and,” her brows scrunched up as she tried to remember. “Visit someone, I think.” A loud ‘clang!’ sounded in the far, far back of her mind. “A blacksmith.” Otsune filled in. “He’d fix our naginata’s whenever something happened to them. No one was as great as him.”

… there’s nothing. She felt horrible. “…. I don’t remember him.”

There’s a drop in her expression. It’s small, but she noticed it. Her eyes were always expressive. The smallest changes meant the most. The corners of her mouth tightened, and she reached out and grabbed her forearm. It’s warm and oozed through her kimono sleeve and coated her skin. Chakra.

Now that was a sensation she hadn’t felt in a long while. No one had done that for her in centuries. She was usually the one to do it to others.

“That’s okay.” Aya could tell that it wasn’t. The worst thing was that she didn’t know what to say or do in the situation. A stretch of silence followed her answer.

Aya’s wandered for a long time, she’s old. But the way these habits and unknown urges returned to her was scary. Were they more than friends or was a chosen sisterhood closer than she’d remembered? She swallowed and planned how to say her words-,

“Is that me?” The words startled her. Aya blinked and turned in the direction Otsune was looking. Her unfinished painting. “Oh, yeah… it is.” Paint wasn’t her strong suit. She used to use another medium much lighter than the oil paint she used now. She needed to rummage through all her things again to look for her earlier paintings.

“I never thought I’d see you use oil.”

“I don’t remember what I used to use in my early days. This was the second option.”

“You used to use ink to paint.” She told her. “My clan specialised in two things. One, grounding different types of ink and two, in healing techniques. I used to get you the finest quality of ink for your birthdays.”

“Ink?” Paint with ink? Ugh, fuzzy memories. “I don’t… I don’t remember that.” Aya remembered a small inkwell filled with a golden liquid that sat on her shelf dedicated to different inks. Was that a type of ink?

“Yeah,” Otsune nodded while inspecting the canvas. “You did. I can see it in your strokes. However, oil and ink are different. Where’s your- ah, there.” She swirled the brush in the solvent on her stand with colours and maneuvered her closer.

“I’ll show you the difference. Your strokes have always been quick and ragged. Oil needs much more careful ones.”

They’re outside of the zenshuyo. Jamyang didn’t remember moving, but she wasn’t upset.

Her breath caught at the intermingled colours in the sky. Panda cubs ran over the basalt wall around the temple in high-pitched sounds that sounded like gekkering towards the swaying bamboo forest. A pool of translucent whales and… something else swam over them. It was too far for her to see what the other thing could be.

It reminded her of Xie and Shu. Jamyang wasn’t that familiar with the Ryeong and his family, but they both always evoked a peculiar feeling in her chest when she saw them; It was the same for the thing flying in the sky.

“Jamyang,” he asked. “What do you see?”

Difficult question. There was so much! Where did she look first? “I see… laughing panda cubs running along the temple wall towards the bamboo forests.” Small red dots moved over the stems in the distance. “They’re meeting their friends.” The squeak of a panda who fell from the top of the stalk to the ground was loud and clear.

“And I see….” She looked around; the tops of swaying trees over the temple walls. “Happy nature and dancing trees.” She wished to see a happy nature outside of the spirit world once. What would Jaya say if she saw a dancing tree? Would it scare her? Maybe she’d sway along with it and the wind? She was unpredictable, so Jamyang bet on her bursting out laughing instead.

She looked up in the sky and took all the colours in and breathed, a faint smile pulled at her lips. Was this the happiness with life that the Gurus and teachers talked about? It’s nice; Swaying like a leaf in the wind, content with whatever direction it’d carry her.

“And I see the beauty of life.” The creature? The dragon look alike? It did look like a dragon- dragon (?) danced and coiled in the sky around the floating pool of whales. It didn’t have wings. Was it a dual bending animal? It had to be unless it was using another means to fly.

“Good observations.” Then he chuckled and looked up at the sky with her. “He visits us from time to time. That dance is the predecessor to the sword style of the sun.” That was the Tsugikuni guardian on one of the fire nation islands. Dorjee said he’d met him once. He described him as a quiet and simple man who took delight in the small things in life. Quite the contrary to the warrior image those in the Fire nation portrayed him as.

“His sacred dances are blessings and gratitude for a debt that’s already paid.” His maw opened and streams of colourful fire shot out. The fire looked more potent, if that was the right word, than the other fires she’d seen.

“Have you heard of the lōng?” Was that what it was called? Only a tonal difference from lóng; the reason Jamyang knew the name was from the times she helped Gawa decipher old texts.

“No, I haven’t. What are they?”

Guru Panda smiled. “Gentle protectors.”

The nice Tirta Empul nun who checked her ribs had the same eyes as Gawa.

Jamyang couldn’t get over it. The exact same eyes. Similar face shape and same smile. “Are you and Gawa related?”

The question startled her. “Yeah, we are. Our momo-las are sisters, so, second cousins, I think?” Her blue robes shifted when she leaned on her left side. Her robes were a captivating blue. A lovely colour. They said it was to match the shade of a sacred pond at their temple.

Jamyang nodded to herself. “I could tell. You have similar features.”

Her eyes softened. “How is she coping with this?”

“Wood carving. Lots and lots of wood carving.” Everyone had at least three. Gawa continued to give her two very intricate figurines every day. “Meditation and training. She discovered she could shoot lightning during that fight-”

“What?”

“Yeah, lightning. She said it’s difficult to understand why she can do it when she can’t generate anything more than tiny embers and ash.”

The gray chi around her hands flickered away, her hands lowered, and she threw her head back and, much to Jamyang’s confusion, laughed.

The bedding was soft. Jamyang rolled on her side to look at Gawa, who sat and carved on the floor. “Have I ever told you about the time Jaya had to get her hair shaved when we were children?” The chisel missed the partially carved wood figurine and stabbed Gawa straight in her hand.

“Ow!” Shaking her hand in pain, she turned to her with an incredulous look, ignoring the pain. “No way! You’re joking.”

“I’m not.” She laughed at her gaping expression. “No way!”

“I’m serious.” Jamyang sat up and fixed her hair. It was weird to not braid it. It was an enlightening experience when she found out just how much hair she had.

“Why haven’t you told me about this?”

“I’ve never seen it as something important.” She responded to Gawa’s deadpan look with a sheepish smile.

“Of course, something like that is important.” She put the not yet finished carving to the side and turned to her. “Tell me everything.”

“Okay, let me braid your hair in the meantime?” Gawa hurried over and sat down in between her legs. Jamyang undid her ponytail and slid her fingers through her hair and sectioned it.

“Was it back when she used to do stupid things without being smart about it?”

Jamyang chuckled. “You could say that.” She split the hair into four equal pieces and started braiding.

“You know, I used to recreate scenes from the books I read, right?”

Gawa nodded against her thigh. “Both books and plays.”

“And Jaya often insisted on helping me because she was scared that I’d hurt myself out of my own stubbornness.”

Gawa gave her thigh a small nuzzle. “I heard you were a cute child with a charm that no one could resist.” Jamyang gave her a chiding nudge to her side with her foot.

“I’d recently read a book where the protagonist set up a trap using of rope, leaves, branches and tree sap-,”

“Oh, I know where this is going.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She chuckled at the memory. “It failed spectacularly.”

Gawa’s shoulder shook with laughter and it’s infectious because Jamyang found herself grinning so much that it hurt.

“What sort of trap was that, anyway?” She asked after her laughter calmed down.

“A desperate one by a hungry man in the wilderness. The author mixed up two different tree saps, which was the reason it failed. I’ve tested it with the right tree sap and it does actually work.” She spent a whole day inside the great library reading about trees a week after the incident.

“Jaya’s hair got covered in tree sap while it covered my robes and it had hardened by the time we got back to the temple.”

“Oh,”

“Yeah, the nuns couldn’t do anything to save it and had to shave it. I asked them to cut some of my hair too because I felt so guilty.” Jaya had yelled at her for doing that because she found that having a bald head wasn’t so bad after all.

“You bet Jaya tagged along with me when I went out to look for the right tree sap a month after it happened.”

“Oh, of course….”

Jamyang noticed Gawa’s quietness in the middle of telling another one of her childhood adventures. She gave her a light nudge. “Gawa?” No response.

Leaning over to glimpse at her face, she came to see that she’d fallen asleep. It’s been awhile since she’d seen her so relaxed. Making her mind up, she quietly maneuvered herself out of where she was sitting and laid Gawa’s head on the edge of the bed.

Jamyang took a moment to observe before picking her up and placing her on the bed.

She observed some more, and after deliberating with herself for a minute, laid down with her. Jamyang took her hand in hers and smiled when Gawa’s hand gave hers a comforting squeeze. She was still asleep when she looked at her.

Taking two long breaths, she made herself comfortable and closed her eyes

Notes:

🫠🫠🫠😵💫😵💫😵💫😴 So, I pulled an all-nighter on Monday and sped ran two midterms yesterday, fell asleep sometime in the early evening and woke up when it was 8'20 pm. Yep, I remember the exact numbers to because it was the exact moment my uncle peeked into my room and asked if I wanted something from the store. I don't recommend speed running two midterms, but that's on me because of my lack of planning. I spent Thursday night to Monday morning studying the materials. I hope that its not me that think books can be annoying when there are so many unnecessary words when they try to explain something... Okay, for the update. I am half tempted to start learning blender and buying a 3d printer so that I can get my own visual references for this fic. I am fully aware that the 3d printer is and impulse urge at the moment and will not buy one at the current time, but I do have blender and I've been wanting to try at it. Jamyang braiding Gawa's hair is going to be a common thing and an act of affection of sorts from Jamyangs pov. Aya and Otsune's relationship was one-sided when they were alive and Aya was a human. Otsune settled for the next best thing, chosen sisters. If I remember to do it, I'll come back here to add bald baby Jaya fanart Tada, I remembered. Baby Jaya is happy regardless of the status of her hair if she has a lemur with her. All credit to archivanture on twitter and instagram Word: Aji: Grandmother in the Ryukyu dialect Tirta empul: A Bali water temple Momo-la: Grandmother

#a love in the eye of the hurricane #Aliteoth original chapters #oc fanfiction #atla oc fanfiction #oc centric #airbenders & airbending #pre yangchen era #oc jamyang #stories from people at ordinary temples #stories from people at ordinary temples series

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