I had last visited Gimcheon about ten years ago to attend the wedding of a relative, who married a young man from the city. Until that time, I had always passed through the city, but never stopping to stay for a while. My impression back then was that Gimcheon seemed to be a city with many blank spaces waiting to be filled in. In geographical terms, it lies about midway along a long vertical axis that links Seoul and Busan. The national railroad lines, expressways, and national roads all pass through the city, making it a strategic transportation center.

Gamcheon’s Clear Waters
The river known as Gamcheon flows through the middle of Gimcheon. It is a gathering of waters from countless little streams that reach into all corners of the city, like tiny blood vessels. Flowing from south to northeast, Gamcheon eventually merges into the considerably larger Nakdonggang River. A century ago, the water was deep enough all year round for salt boats from the Nakdonggang to navigate the length of Gamcheon. But the riverbed has since risen due to the cumulative effects of flooding and typhoons.
For the residents of Gimcheon, the river is an important leisure spot, where people enjoy swimming and fishing, especially in the summer. Though my recent visit was during early autumn, there were still people rolling up their trousers and wading in the water to catch small fish and gather black snails. People were also seen walking or jogging along the well-maintained pathways atop the river banks, against an idyllic background of reed thickets and migratory birds.
The taxi driver who drove me round the city made a point of boasting about the city’s tap water. He said the local tap water did not come from reservoirs but originated from underground sources. I did not quite understand this, so I called the Water Supply Department of Gimcheon City to ask about it. I was told that a water catchment had been installed about 40 meters beneath the river to supply water that had been naturally filtered through the riverbed sediment, which was then purified before being distributed to users. Hence, Gimcheon’s tap water is derived from flowing river water rather than the stagnant water of a reservoir, which contributes to its superior taste and purity, far beyond what is available in other regions.
In the Gimcheon neighborhood of Namsan-dong there is a stream named Gwahacheon, which is symbolic of the
city’s pure water. The stream was given its current name during the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1910) by a Chinese general, who is said to have named it after a stream in his hometown in China. Prior to that, it was known as Geumjicheon, or Jucheon, which means “liquor stream,” because liquor made with this water has long been prized for its wonderful taste and fragrance. Gwahaju liquor, which is brewed from this water, remains a specialty product and a source of pride for Gimcheon locals.
Another former name, Geumjicheon, means “stream of gold.” According to the ancient Eastern philosophy of the five elements, metal (gold) comes before water, and is the element from which water is derived. Moreover, the name Gimcheon also means “stream/spring of gold.” Roaming around the city with this fact in mind, it did indeed seem that the water here is especially clean and pure. The brooks flowing into the fields and the streams flowing through the valleys are out of the ordinary, with water that glistens noticeably. After returning to my room, I drank the water straight out of the tap, with an ease of mind.

Mountain Valley Lodging
I spent the night in a private home up a high mountain valley, about 800 meters above sea level. The house was located in Sudo Valley, on a mid-slope of Mt. Sudosan, along the southern outskirts of the city. I had looked up Sudo Valley on the Internet and found it to be a beautiful area, like a jewel hidden away in a forest with broad flat rocks, waterfalls, and grazing cows. In the summer, it is said to attract some 3,000 to 4,000 visitors a day. I had an urge to dangle my feet in the water, but this was not to be. As I ventured higher up the slope, dense growths of thorny bushes made it impossible to approach the water. I had to be content with simply watching the water rush over the falls and make its way downstream, from between the bushes.
The owner of the valley lodging house had worked for a construction business in Daegu before relocating his family to his hometown area some 20 years ago. The children had since grown up and moved to the big cities, so the owner and his wife, who is originally from Seoul, operate the lodge and a restaurant, along with growing cabbages, potatoes, and apple trees, and raising chickens, pigs, and honey bees. They also have a beloved pet squirrel, which they found in the fields.
The couple invited their unexpected guest, who had arrived close to dusk, to join them at their dinner table. The meal consisted of rice cooked with beans, bean paste stew (doenjang jjigae), pan-fried tofu, and kimchi, together with Korean perilla leaves and daikon radish preserved in soy sauce. To me, this made for a hearty meal, but my host, thinking it was not quite enough, went outside and brought back some eggs. They were longer than regular eggs, which were quickly fried until golden.

Jikjisa Temple
There are several notable temples in the Gimcheon area. After Goguryeo had received the Buddhist dharma from China, it sought to pass Buddhism on to Silla, but the small state in the south resisted its entry. Therefore, Buddhism was not transmitted directly to Gyeongju, the capital of Silla, but instead took hold in Gimcheon, the gateway to Gyeongju. As such, the Gimcheon area is home to quite a large number of ancient Buddhist temples. Jikjisa Temple, where the original form of Korean Buddhism has been preserved, was built in 418, when the monk Ado sought to introduce Buddhism to Silla, during the reign of King Nulji. For the next 110 years it was a center for the propagation of the Buddhist faith, until Silla finally adopted Buddhism as its state ideology in 527.
My original intention was to spend the night there under its Temple Stay program, for a hands-on experience at the 24th head temple of the Jogye Order, which is why I selected a Saturday night. But because of the H1N1 flu concerns, the temple was not accepting any overnight guests. On that crisp autumn afternoon, however, Jikjisa was teeming with visitors. This was the same as my visit ten years ago. The Buddha triad in the main temple hall (Daeungjeon) was as stately as ever, sitting before a large hanging painting, so carefully composed and vividly colored. The colorful patterns painted on the ceiling were also as brilliant as I remembered. And as usual, women wishing for the good fortune of their family and sons were praying, while holding their hands together, in front of the Buddha Vairocana image, which was newly gilded in 1992.
The charm of traditional Korean architecture can be found in its restraint and simplicity, which is evident in the structures of Jikjisa. In the past, the color of various newly painted buildings was too harsh, causing visual discomfort, but a refined painting method now creates a more muted and pleasant finish. In addition to the buildings, the charming garden areas give the temple a graceful elegance. Unfortunately, the structures seemed to be rather densely packed within the temple grounds.
A favorite area of mine is among the lush gardens behind the main hall along a pathway between the hall of Vairocana (Birojeon) and Josajeon (Hall of Josa, founder of a sect). It seemed little changed from ten years ago. Another attractive spot is the garden to the west of the temple museum, where a tower-shaped chimney, made of tile shards, stands tall. There, I noticed an old gate in the distance. When I reached the gate and opened it, I found myself in front of a small bamboo grove. Bending down slightly to avoid the leaves, I followed a narrow path that led to a garden with a well-tended lawn. To one side was a small building that looked like a tea house. I stayed awhile, wandering round the garden. I thought about asking for tea if someone appeared, but after a long time no one came by. But I liked the solitude.
Something else that stood out from my visit to Jikjisa was a realization of just how many freshwater springs there are on its grounds; in fact, many more than at any other temple. I came across 11 within the temple compound. Stone fountains, gushing forth pure water, are found at all major spots, allowing visitors to quench their thirst at every opportunity. Again, this was another reminder of Gimcheon’s reputation for its clean water.

Sudoam Retreat
The next morning, I ventured out to find Sudoam retreat, which I came across after a 30-minute uphill walk. At even this small-scale temple, the courtyard area was immaculate. The early morning sun gently bathed the courtyard, where someone had been busily sweeping up since dawn. For ordinary mortals this might be an early hour, but by this time the monks had already held their morning service and finished breakfast, before retreating to their rooms. In any case, the courtyard was peaceful.
Sudoam was founded in 859 by National Preceptor Doseon, of Silla, and then had been destroyed by fire during the Donghak peasant uprising (1894) during the Joseon Dynasty. The temple’s stone image of Vairocana Buddha (Treasure No. 307), enshrined in the main hall (Daejeokgwangjeon), is a representative example of Unified Silla-style Buddhist images of the ninth century. East of the main hall is another hall that houses a Medicine Buddha (Yakgwangjeon) sculpture, which has been designated Treasure No.296, along with a pair of three-story stone pagodas that stand in the courtyard.
Regrettably, the ability to discriminate and properly appreciate a Buddhist sculpture of Treasure status is not mine, but I did find the steep stone stairway leading to the main hall and the wide, white courtyard to be awe inspiring. Dazzled by the brilliant scene of sunlight shining onto the mountain temple along the entire flight of stairs, I was overcome with a sense of exhilaration until I managed to descend and stand on firm ground.

Cheongamsa Temple
About two kilometers east of Sudoam is another well-known temple: Cheong­amsa. After inquiring about Cheongamsa at the Gimcheon Cultural Center, I was able to tour this temple with the aid of a volunteer guide, Mun Mal-sun, from the center. A woman in her late 30s who operates a restaurant about 2 kilometers from the temple, she was a good-natured and efficient guide. It is said that this temple was also founded by National Preceptor Doseon. Born in Yeongam, Jeollanam-do Province, Doseon became a monk at the age of 15. He was well versed in the art of geomancy (feng shui) and seems to have indeed roamed freely all over the countryside. His footsteps can be found at the numerous temples that he helped to build in scenic spots across the country, including Doseonsa Temple, in Ui-dong, Seoul.
Cheongamsa means “temple of blue-green rocks,” which comes from the moss-covered rocks in the adjacent valley. Along the path leading to the temple there is a rocky wall that is indeed covered with moss. A small spring across the way is Ubicheon. From a geomantic perspective, the site of Cheongamsa is said to be configured like a “cow lying down,” with the spring representing the cow’s nose. The nose of a healthy cow is constantly wet; likewise, it was believed that the nation and the temple would prosper so long as the spring waters flowed steadily. Mun, my guide, explained that in times of a national crisis, the spring is said to dry up.
Twice during our tour of the temple, Mun mentioned that it was “difficult” for her to speak at the temple. By this, she meant she was concerned about her voice disrupting the stillness there. Of note, Cheongamsa is occupied by female monks and houses a university for the training of female monks. As such, Mun is especially sensitive about her speech and behavior. I had heard about the university but did not realize it was for female monks until I took notice of the young female monks making their way around the temple grounds.
Unlike most other temples in Korea, there is no restaurant nearby the entrance to Cheongamsa, making its approach seem rather inhospitable. However, within the compound, the young trainees create a warm and lively atmosphere. The temple’s two main halls, Geungnakjeon and Nambyeoldang, can be seen across a stream. Nambyeoldang is where Queen Inhyeon, the second wife of King Sukjong of Joseon, lived deep in the mountains after being stripped of her royal title in 1689. This building, which features a traditional style of palace architecture, in deference to the queen’s tragic fate, now houses the temple university. At the time of my visit, several students were tending a vegetable garden in front of Geungnakjeon, including a young foreigner with bright blue eyes.

Scars of War
In the mountain village of Buhang-myeon, in southwest Gimcheon, there is a site known as Buhang Lookout. Though a designated Cultural Property of Gimcheon City, it is a vestige of the Korean War that is not identified on any tourist maps. A cultural property in name only, it is nothing more than the leftover ruins of a concrete building, ignored by visitors amid a tangle of weeds. But I could only wonder whether these stone ruins still weigh heavily on the hearts of Gimcheon’s longtime residents. I remembered hearing about a brassware craftsman, named Kim Il-ung, the pride of Gimcheon, who began his craft at the age of 11 and continued to produce brassware for the next 58 years. During the war, Kim packed up his wares and fled southward, but could not proceed beyond Waegwan. The host of my mountain lodging confirmed this account, saying that Kim could not advance past Waegwan because the bridge over the Nakdonggang River had been blown up.
It could be said that Gimcheon has never fully recovered from the scars of war. The North Korean troops, after easily overrunning Seoul, made a beeline for Gimcheon, a transportation center, to set up a base for their advancement to the southern cities of Daegu and Busan. As a countermeasure, the U.N. troops heavily bombarded this age-old city, devastating about 80 percent of the urban district. In the fierce battle between the two sides, the human toll was substantial, including soldiers and civilians who remained behind to defend their village homes. My host told me that his uncle had stayed to defend his home, but ended up being killed, when he was accused of aiding the North Koreans.
I then thought about my first impressions of Gimcheon, and what my views had been based on. Though almost half a century had passed since the war, Gimcheon had still not escaped from this nightmare. In most rural villages of Korea, traditional style homes, hanok, can still be seen, but hardly a single one can be found intact in all of Gimcheon. The only hanok I found was the ancestral home of the Yeo clan from Seongsan, in the village of Guseong-myeon, but even that had been abandoned and left in a state of disrepair. It seemed that all the beautiful things of Gimcheon had been destroyed by war, and though much time has passed, there are still empty spaces which need to be filled in.
Buhangcheon stream flows through the village nearby Buhang Lookout. A dam is being constructed upstream to create a water reservoir, which will cause old villages in the area to be submerged underwater. Meanwhile, various public works projects are underway as well. As such, the Neolithic and Bronze Age dwelling sites along the stream are hurriedly being excavated. At this site, where such an ancient civilization intersects with our modern-day society, I can only wonder about Gimcheon’s future direction.