Gimnyeong Beach, a beautiful view right next to the village I was working in.
A gorgeous island surrounded by turquoise water and volcanic rock beaches, Jeju has become a modern natural wonder with its unique history, cuisine and geographic landscapes. At the same time foreigners of all kinds have taken an interest in the island’s shamanic rituals, often noted for their unique qualities compared to even mainland Korea. While South Korea holds more active shaman than most developed countries, Jeju beats out even massive cities like Seoul in its number of shaman. Their traditions, exorcism and possession rituals have been passed down for generations, developing special attributes that one cannot find anywhere else in Korea. This has led a number of filmmakers, artists, photographers and researchers to document the shamanism of the island more so than any other part of Korea. I felt that for my project both over the year and in the long term, meeting a Mudang of this island would be essential.
After several failed attempts, I ended up on Jeju island without a single connection to help me. In turn I simply did as I always do in a hopeless situation; walk around looking stupid asking other people for help. After visiting several restaurants on my first night (and enjoying some excellent seafood stews) I made conversation with the old ladies running these shops, cutting to the chase and asking “where can I find a Mudang?” Surprisingly they all directed me to the same area, though they would not give me the name; a place called Gimnyeong beach, a somewhat isolated seaside village an hour outside of Jeju City. I thanked them for the time and woke up early the next morning, bound for Gimnyeong.
When I stepped off at Gimnyeong elementary school, the town (more of a hamlet really) looked near deserted save for a few groups of elderly folk on their way to lunch. Without a town information center of any kind, I set off with my backpack wandering the roads of the village. After a few unsuccessful attempts at conversation (and mixed looks of fear and disapproval), I ran into several friendly old women fixing the door to a house. Knowing that Jeju is famous for its special dialect, I simply yelled “Mudang Mudang Mudang” over and over, shaking my hands in the air hoping they would understand. By some miracle they did, and after a short chat they took the time to give me the name “Seo Soonsil,: told me her house was behind the school, and called her for me to make an appointment the following evening. I returned back to my hostel, prepared and set out to Gimnyeong again the next day.
A gravesite and altar int he distance used in GImnyeong for larger rituals sometimes (or a nice picnic)
Back in Gimnyeong the next evening (and a little bit lost), through the help of a few elderly women I found Seo Soonsil’s house just as she was pulling up in her Kia. She led me into the house, but with a skeptical look on her face. Sitting in her living room, the Mudang’s young daughter acted as our translator. Her first approach was looking dead in my eyes and saying “what do you want from me?” At first I asked for a fortune reading (which is usually an easy opening to befriend a Mudang) met with an immediate “no.” Though I felt that I’d already failed, I decided to try one last approach and explained my work and what I do. With the immense help of her daughter, she eventually warmed and invited me to a Kut she was performing in Gimnyeong the next day, put a few special Jeju oranges into my bag and then forced me to stay for a fried rice dinner.
“I normally don’t take new clients anymore. I’ve refused many politicians, artists and scholars but I’ll help you.”
“Why?”
“I thought it was funny that rather than searching for me knowing my name (as people often did), you found me by saying ‘Mudang Mudang’ over again like a fool” (this included a good bout of condescending laughter). “And more importantly, you remind me of my son.” She then watched me like hawk until I finished about two pounds of fried rice, then placed her business card in my hand as I left, which said revealed her role as acting president of the Jeju Keun Gut Preservation Association. I immediately felt humbled and embarrassed beyond words.
A round rice cake called “Dolletteok,” native to Jeju and a specialty of their Shaman
She picked me up about 5 30 in the morning the next day, driving me all the way to her house in Gimnyeon where I met the other two Mudang helping her for the day. I grabbed some bags and helped carry them to a nearby house, where an entire family (parents, children, aunts uncles and grandparents) was busy cooking food and making preparations for the ritual, a cleansing ritual for a soon-to-be mother. Even as an outsider, I was quickly made a part of the preparation; I entered a side room with the other Mudang and helped them fold and prepare paper charms for the Kut. In these smaller, family oriented rituals everyone present is a part of the performance, there is no performer-audience relationship because it’s everyone’s responsibility to make the ritual happen (with good reason, as rumor has it that a failed ritual can cause quite a few problems). The grandmother fried fish in the kitchen and the younger adults washed and stacked plates of fruit, while the Grandfather played with the two year old who couldn’t stop singing “Let it Go.” All of these actions, whether or not they are what we would consider a “dance” became a part of the ritual and the experience. For the first time I realized just how much a Kut is not about the performance as making something happen, achieving a goal; the clients are not there just to be entertained, but to make it happen as each person has a stake in what is going on.
Myself working with paper preparations.
The Mudang then began the ritual with a traditional hour of drumming and chanting to cleanse and prepare the area, not stopping for the entire sixty minutes. After a short smoke break, the main ritual began. Seo Soonsil’s movements slowly changed as she reached a moment of possession, handing out food and gifts to those around her from the offerings. Then, using the paper we had prepped earlier she began shaking it over the young woman to cleanse her spirit, all the while speakign random fortunes about the future of the child. As the trance-style drumming continued, each of the three present Mudang shifted and switched to cleanse the subject and speak fortunes. One of the key parts of this cleansing came from marking the young woman’s body with fresh water, protecting her from the malicious and helping her connect with benevolent spirits of the ocean. At the end of the ritual, as her God was still present, she began throwing a set of coins and metal plates which, byt he way fell, would tell fortunes of everyone in the room. After this an entire pig carcass was delivered, cut up by the Grandfather in the center of the room then offered to the Gods. A meal between me and the Mudang marked the ending of the ritual and the Ghost’s final action was a gift of 100 dollars offered to the two year old in the family (who promptly set it aside for her “Frozen” coloring book). After receiving a healthy haul of Jeju fruits from the ritual to bring home, I said goodbye to the family as the Mudang poured Soju in front of the door as a final offering.
Grandpa chopping up the pig’s head.
Back at Seo Soonsil’s home I said goodbyes to her and her daughter (without whom I never would have been able to pull this off), and received an invitation to call her if I am ever in Jeju again. Beyond the immense kindness of opening up her work to me, Seo Soonsil showed me how much more than the mainland Jeju shamanism is rooted in its ancient traditions. While I would argue that the changes in mainland Korean shamanism have helped it survive, Jeju is a different landscape with a very different culture, one that still connects with the same rituals of centuries ago. Rooted in Jeju’s native fruits, its volcanic rock formations and its ties with the ocean, Jeju shamanism represents and preserves a unique way of life that, when viewed with a closer lens, we may be able to learn much about how we work together in performance and function as a family or community.
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