ID :
187623
Fri, 06/10/2011 - 05:00
Auther :
Shortlink :
https://oananews.org//node/187623
The shortlink copeid
Looking for the past at Bukpyeong folk market
(Yonhap Feature)
By Rick Ruffin
Contributing Writer
DONGHAE CITY, South Korea, June 10 (Yonhap) -- Open-air folk markets held every five days in rural Korea may be an anomaly in this era of chain supermarket giants, but they are a perfect fit for anyone wishing to catch a glimpse of traditional Korea.
The "five day" markets, as they are commonly called, are loved by Koreans for a diversity of products and amazing deals. You can find almost everything -- organic produce, fish and even live animals -- in a festival mood.
When the market opens differs from region to region and village to village but they have one thing in common: they rotate to be held every five days.
One of the largest such markets in Bukpyeong in this eastern coastal city of Donghae draws thousands of shoppers when it is held on calendar days ending with three or eight. The market has become a substantial part of the local economy.
The Bukpyeong five day market, which dates back to the 18th century, first took hold near a local stream and has moved several times over its more than 200 years of history, but it has been in its present location since 1932, according to Lee Jae-cheol of the Bukpyeong Cooperative, the trust that manages and runs the market.
The Bukpyeong market was originally known to some as the "Dwitddeuri," which in local dialect means "a place of wide open space." These days, that is no longer the case.
Come Lunar New Year and other traditional Korean holidays, a circle of white-haired senior citizens toss sticks, rocks, chili peppers and all manner of objects on the ground, playing an improvised version of the traditional Korean game of "yut nori."
Cho Ki-heom, originally from nearby Samwha-dong, remembers the old days when people played yut nori the real way. "When I was a kid the men would just throw a cow skin down on the ground and go at it, but these days, cow skins are a little hard to come by," he says.
Speaking of cow skins, the Bukpyeong five-day folk market used to host a live cow market, where farmers could come to trade from afar. Cows weren't valued so much for their weight as they were for appearance. What the farmer couldn't sell at one market, he would sell at the next in the rotation. The Bukpyeong live cow market, though, began to be phased out around the mid-1980s.
Kim Sun-hee has been selling her vegetables at the market for more than 20 years. Tanned and ruddy, she can be found exploring the mountains with the Gaja ("Let's Go") Mountain Club when not selling vegetables. Her display was limited to spinach, cucumbers, darae (Siberian gooseberries), cabbage, potatoes, onions, mushrooms, sweet potatoes, broccoli and a few other products during the last Lunar New Year holidays after the blizzard.
"In the summer my inventory is much bigger," she says. "I grow just about everything. Later on I'll have corn, tomatoes, chili peppers, cabbage and more."
"It costs me 4,000 won (US$3.70) to sell here each time I come. Some of the vendors pay more, some pay less. It depends on how much space you need."
Rent for plots here at the Bukpyeong folk market are reasonable. According to an informational pamphlet provided by the Bukpyeong Cooperative, the cost of rental for one pyeong (3.3 square meters) of land is 500 won.
Hwang Gi-seon, 32, is the owner of a secondhand clothing store located in the heart of the market. The name of his store is simply "3,000 Won," as nothing is more expensive than that. He gets his clothes in Seoul and sells them here. He moved to Bukpyeong particularly to "take advantage of the business the market provides." On market days, he says, "I move much of my merchandise outside."
While Hwang's shop doesn't move, most of the others do. Like a tribe of gypsies, all the vendors pack up at the end of the day and head for the next market down the road.
Lee of the Bukpyeong Cooperative drew a diagram showing Bukpyeong on one end of a piece of paper, and the towns of Okgye, Yangyang, Dogye, Samcheok and then Bukpyeong once again at the other, explaining the five-day rotation.
Also found at the market is a man wearing a tall, black hat and playing Chinese chess. The hat is made of "sambae," a traditional fabric known in other countries as hemp, which is made from the cannabis plant that also produces marijuana. He offers to sell one for a pricey 30,000 won, although he also offers a nylon version of the same hat for a mere 5,000 won. Aside from the hats, he has almanacs, Oriental medicine aids, guides to wild plants and herbs and books on acupuncture.
He admits that sambae production has been compromised because of its illicit associations.
"The police are always uprooting the hemp plants, even though we aren't using it to get high. We only want the bark in order to make the hemp. That's all we want. But when they take the plants, they take everything."
A survey of shoppers found many people come from afar to shop at the Bukpyeong market. One couple came from Gangneung, 50 kilometers up the coast. "We come about once month, mostly for 'eye shopping,' but we also buy things," says the man.
When asked if the market was getting bigger or smaller, Lee, the cooperative administrator, says it's doing just fine despite the fact that other traditional markets are disappearing fast. "We don't compete with big stores like E-Mart. That's a different crowd entirely. Here, we have nothing to worry about."
rick.ruffin@gmail.com
By Rick Ruffin
Contributing Writer
DONGHAE CITY, South Korea, June 10 (Yonhap) -- Open-air folk markets held every five days in rural Korea may be an anomaly in this era of chain supermarket giants, but they are a perfect fit for anyone wishing to catch a glimpse of traditional Korea.
The "five day" markets, as they are commonly called, are loved by Koreans for a diversity of products and amazing deals. You can find almost everything -- organic produce, fish and even live animals -- in a festival mood.
When the market opens differs from region to region and village to village but they have one thing in common: they rotate to be held every five days.
One of the largest such markets in Bukpyeong in this eastern coastal city of Donghae draws thousands of shoppers when it is held on calendar days ending with three or eight. The market has become a substantial part of the local economy.
The Bukpyeong five day market, which dates back to the 18th century, first took hold near a local stream and has moved several times over its more than 200 years of history, but it has been in its present location since 1932, according to Lee Jae-cheol of the Bukpyeong Cooperative, the trust that manages and runs the market.
The Bukpyeong market was originally known to some as the "Dwitddeuri," which in local dialect means "a place of wide open space." These days, that is no longer the case.
Come Lunar New Year and other traditional Korean holidays, a circle of white-haired senior citizens toss sticks, rocks, chili peppers and all manner of objects on the ground, playing an improvised version of the traditional Korean game of "yut nori."
Cho Ki-heom, originally from nearby Samwha-dong, remembers the old days when people played yut nori the real way. "When I was a kid the men would just throw a cow skin down on the ground and go at it, but these days, cow skins are a little hard to come by," he says.
Speaking of cow skins, the Bukpyeong five-day folk market used to host a live cow market, where farmers could come to trade from afar. Cows weren't valued so much for their weight as they were for appearance. What the farmer couldn't sell at one market, he would sell at the next in the rotation. The Bukpyeong live cow market, though, began to be phased out around the mid-1980s.
Kim Sun-hee has been selling her vegetables at the market for more than 20 years. Tanned and ruddy, she can be found exploring the mountains with the Gaja ("Let's Go") Mountain Club when not selling vegetables. Her display was limited to spinach, cucumbers, darae (Siberian gooseberries), cabbage, potatoes, onions, mushrooms, sweet potatoes, broccoli and a few other products during the last Lunar New Year holidays after the blizzard.
"In the summer my inventory is much bigger," she says. "I grow just about everything. Later on I'll have corn, tomatoes, chili peppers, cabbage and more."
"It costs me 4,000 won (US$3.70) to sell here each time I come. Some of the vendors pay more, some pay less. It depends on how much space you need."
Rent for plots here at the Bukpyeong folk market are reasonable. According to an informational pamphlet provided by the Bukpyeong Cooperative, the cost of rental for one pyeong (3.3 square meters) of land is 500 won.
Hwang Gi-seon, 32, is the owner of a secondhand clothing store located in the heart of the market. The name of his store is simply "3,000 Won," as nothing is more expensive than that. He gets his clothes in Seoul and sells them here. He moved to Bukpyeong particularly to "take advantage of the business the market provides." On market days, he says, "I move much of my merchandise outside."
While Hwang's shop doesn't move, most of the others do. Like a tribe of gypsies, all the vendors pack up at the end of the day and head for the next market down the road.
Lee of the Bukpyeong Cooperative drew a diagram showing Bukpyeong on one end of a piece of paper, and the towns of Okgye, Yangyang, Dogye, Samcheok and then Bukpyeong once again at the other, explaining the five-day rotation.
Also found at the market is a man wearing a tall, black hat and playing Chinese chess. The hat is made of "sambae," a traditional fabric known in other countries as hemp, which is made from the cannabis plant that also produces marijuana. He offers to sell one for a pricey 30,000 won, although he also offers a nylon version of the same hat for a mere 5,000 won. Aside from the hats, he has almanacs, Oriental medicine aids, guides to wild plants and herbs and books on acupuncture.
He admits that sambae production has been compromised because of its illicit associations.
"The police are always uprooting the hemp plants, even though we aren't using it to get high. We only want the bark in order to make the hemp. That's all we want. But when they take the plants, they take everything."
A survey of shoppers found many people come from afar to shop at the Bukpyeong market. One couple came from Gangneung, 50 kilometers up the coast. "We come about once month, mostly for 'eye shopping,' but we also buy things," says the man.
When asked if the market was getting bigger or smaller, Lee, the cooperative administrator, says it's doing just fine despite the fact that other traditional markets are disappearing fast. "We don't compete with big stores like E-Mart. That's a different crowd entirely. Here, we have nothing to worry about."
rick.ruffin@gmail.com
