Huge Drums and Mad Cows

It is the 10th of June. 21 years ago the Korean military government finally stepped down after intense public protest and the first democratic elections were held in South Korea.
Thousands of people have gathered in front of the stage today to celebrate this anniversary, but also to protest against the free-trade-agreement with the US. They feel betrayed by their president, who has signed the controversial agreement, because it includes the release of the import ban on US beef--what will bring the Mad Cow disease to Korea, people fear. On a popular poster, a cute Korean child is standing crying and helpless in front of an approaching ship full of menacing cows with skulls and bones symbols on their heads. This might be a slight exaggeration of the possible danger, as only 3 people have died from the human form of the disease in the United States since its discovery.

However, the sentiments are running high amongst the protestors, mostly young people from high school or the early semesters of university. Nobody knows who is behind the campaign, but the fact that it is mainly very young people who flock to the demonstrations in masses might suggest that a powerful interest group is aggravating people's fears intentionally to weaken the president.

In Seoul, the government has entrenched itself behind walls of shipping containers in fear of the demonstrators. Still, almost nobody has been injured (one Korean newspaper reports of 11 people injured alltogether), with tens of thousands on the streets thats incredibly few. In contrast, the police here in Gwangju are sitting around the peaceful demonstration looking bored. The mood is cheerful, it is a giant festival.

Then the drumming starts. The stage simply erupts in a sudden thunderstorm of sound. It is like nothing I have ever experienced. Five drummers hit their impressive instruments in perfect synchrony. Amplified through the huge soundsystem, the beats shake the ground and fire up the crowd. To top it, the drummers then dunk their sticks into gas and ignite them before continuing to play. I catch a shower of gas, because I too close trying to take some pictures. The effect is majestic, for a short while it seems as if a firestorm is sweeping over the stage.

The crowd is ecstatic. Frenetic applause accompanies the musicians from the stage. Now two speakers take the stage and hold a fiery speech in Korean, of which I unfortunately understand nothing. I try to find somebody who speaks English, but I soon give up as it is futile. In between they animate the people to do a mexican wave with their protest candles, as it is getting dark. It is remarkable there appears to be no violence at all. At demonstrations of this kind and especially this huge size, in my hometown Hamburg there would be intense clashes between armored police and hooded protestors, the police probably using water cannons to disperse the crowd. There might be something true about the cliche of the Confucian mindset and its ideal of collective harmony...

FTA

first

The reception has for an yet unknown reason decided to switch off my aircondition, so I have been sitting directly in front of the fan for the past 36 hours to escape the obscene heat creeping in through the window. Communication is a challenge, to find out how to switch on the machine took no less than a day. Still I hope for them to eventually change their mind about the heat treatment.
Two days ago I ventured into the unknown city for the first time. Gwangju is famous for its art and culture scene and Thus I decide to start my expedition at Gwangju's 'Art Street'. Antique shops, full of unknown scriptures and sculptures mingle with modern art galleries. Inside the shops there is often either nobody visible or somebody sunk into a deep slumber.

Hidden underneath the street I discover an old tea shop, quite an unique place. Melancholic, otherworldly singing transpiring from below draws me inside. With every step I take down, the temperature to sinks by about one degree, a relief to the heat on the street. The walls are covered with Calligraphy on yellowed paper. A woman dressed in black hums along to the beautiful music floating through the air, stopping only as briefly as possible to greet me with a friendly "annyeong haseo". There is nobody else inside. I do not dare to order something as I do not want to be the only customer and without any knowledge as of how to behave in a place like this. "Beautiful" I just say to her and left after staying as long as seemed appropriate. I dont know if she understood.

When I re-enter the harsh sunlight and unforgiving heat outside, this whole episode already seems like a dream. Art Street is short, and soon I am back in the normal city race. It appears everything has to be noisy here. every second shop has either brutally loud music blaring out of a PA system in front of it or somebody shouting at everyone passing through a portable amplifying unit. In this case it is a blessing to look obviously foreign, as most promoters ignore me. Walking past a shop entrance I glimpse a young woman kissing a minuscule dog with pink makeup on its cheeks. At the next corner stands a group of small schoolgirls, they circle me instantly as I try to pass, shouting "HEEELLLLOOOO" "WHERE YOU FROM?". I escape quickly through a small breach in their lines. From the distance I can hear thumping bass on the main street, where I spot a group of students in pink dress marching towards democracy square.

The demonstrations! Today is the 21st anniversary of the democracy movement in Gwangju and this must surely be part of it. I run into the underground shopping complex right underneath the square to catch a picture of the group from the other side. Unfortunately I am too late, the group has already dispersed around the gigantic 'democracy bell' made in rememberance of the movement. While I try to take some pictures, two guys with a camera approach me. "INTERVIEW!?" they shout over the music from the huge speakers of the truck heading the demonstration. The language barrier is almost impenetrable despite brave efforts. They are from University TV, finally one of them manages to explain. I agree to be interviewed, although I have no idea how to be part of an interview with only one person speaking English and the other one not speaking any Korean. "What do you think?" he simply asks me and points camera and microphone into my face. I want to help them, so I just start a monologue about whatever comes to my mind. Instantly a group of curious people gathers around us, I quickly finish and escape again.

Meanwhile, on the street an impressive soundsystem is set up from a crane while huge drums are lured onto a stage for the main celebrations. This is only just the beginning, I realize...