I have a bit of a strange story to tell... one night after the first snow fall in Korea, Jo and I went to a small tea house on the side of the mountain near Yuldong Park. It is the nicest little quaint tea house with wooden tables, and heated entirely by a clay-covered wood burning stove in the middle of the house. We stayed for a while, but were the only ones there on that cold night. The host invited us to have some baked sweet potatoes from the fire, and to stay until later, when they would be having a special guest come by for a small performance. We were in a very easy-going mood, so we stayed, warming ourselves by the fire. A short while later, a Buddhist monk walked in and explained that the performance would be of a very famous Korean opera singer trained in Italy, whom he was close friends with. Only later was it revealed that she had agreed to because of her previous visit, when the monk had enjoyed her visit so much that he had declared that the next time she visited, he would have to give up being a monk.

While we were waiting, several of the owners decided that we should have an early New Year's Eve party. So, I hopped in the SUV with the monk and headed down the icy slope of the mountain to a convenience store to buy beer and makeoli (rice wine). We got back and had a fantastic time with these complete strangers.

The opera singer then arrived, and sang a fabulous (and famous) Italian song that was fit for a concert hall, but performed in a rickety wooden tea house. Her projection was so amazing that it made my ears warble and shake with amazement. She talked about her experience in Italy and about how she was nearly mugged but managed to resist by giving the would-be-robber a bloody nose. Jo translated for me, but for the most part, I didn't understand much. (Not that I cared that much because I was just having such a good time with these people, laughing and smiling) There was one other man there who had come for the performance who spoke French very well because he had spent several years in Paris, so we were able to communicate. All together, there were about 10-12 people, and we were the only strangers to the group. Because it was a special occasion, they even brought out some cheeses from France to share and some fine cognac. It was a truly magical evening, and something I will remember for a long long time.

In the background, you can see the monk wearing a white toque. The man to my right spoke French. The women to my left owned the tea house, and the man next to them owned a respectable furniture export business. We ate roast chestnuts, fried Korean pancake with onion and squid, and later had long rice noodles.