Coastal Faith

Most visitors to Hamdeok Village (Jeju Island, South Korea), rarely venture west to the harbor. Most of the action occurs on the east end of the village, where internationally branded resort hotels hold court, rising high above the neighborhoods below. A great number of tourists filter in and out of their lobbies, making their way down to the beach to the north. It is one of the island’s most beautiful, flanked by a misty, terraced mountain—which caps off the whole production. This is a place for vacationers—from the mainland, both families and Korea’s new youth, the members of the candlelight revolution generation amongst them, including the more conservative sort and, as well, liberated tattooed and tanned hipsters. The youth of Jeju Island, more conservative than their scantily-clad contemporaries from the mainland, come to take selfies then scuttle off to coffee shops that line the village streets. Their grandparents toiled at sea to pay their school fees, and many of their number, discouraged to ever learn how to swim, are happy to only view the azure water from a distance. There are many foreign visitors to the beach town, too. You hear Chinese often and a number of other languages.

I’ve been coming to the beach since before this hubbub existed, when there was but a gravel road leading to the seaside. Back then, a short decade ago, the beach was only frequented one month of the year, in August, by visitors who were mostly uncomfortable in the water. There were no bikinis on the island back then, not a coffee shop in sight and the women divers—the famed haenyo of Jeju Island—frequented the beach.

A bridge, crossing to an outcrop of rock, is a popular pre-wedding photography spot for vacationing couples.
A sign advertising fishing trips. The terraced fields of the village mountain lay beyond.
South Korea, not just Jeju Island, keeps changing at a staggering rate, reinventing itself and its image every few years. Living here, I sometimes get the sense that no one is attached to anything necessarily. Broadly varying trends are adapted at the drop of a new K-pop track. Political positions and opinions are much the same—discarded and picked-up with about as much (effort) as one would do so with a playing card. Though they are few, 
there are things, things metered and eternal—particularly on Jeju Island and in this village. The men working in the harbor on their boats—their family names are the ancestral names that one finds in the village’s very foundation myths. Their mothers, wives and daughters famously toil at the free-diving profession. It’s a way of life that has continued for, perhaps, longer than fifteen-hundred years. 
Individuals who were born into the maritime cultures of Jeju Island are largely still pagan, practicing shamanic traditions that are older than we know how to assess. Every year, a caravan of gods known as the Youngdeung Gods—-Youngdeung Grandmother and Grandfather, their family and entourage, including their scribe—visit the island to sow the ocean with the seeds of regeneration. It is the duty of these gods to stock the sea, providing for the livelihood of fisher and diver alike. 
A great banquet is prepared for the Youngdeung gods' arrival in each coastal village, coordinated to match their schedule, as they make their way across the island. In Hamdeok, the lunar date is set for the ritual feast. Town officials and regional authorities will present themselves briefly before the gods, while other village residents will spend the entire day in the ritual space. Tables of offerings are set for all of Jeju's higher deities, such as the Sky God and Agricultural gods, with the main seats being reserved for the caravan. 
Despite the growing tourist industry on the island and influx of outsiders, the practitioners of these traditions still hold political power in the village. Mayors and council members are locals, who must balance traditional factors with this new economy. At the ritual, even the upscale Ramada Hotel has sent an offering to be placed before the gods. Other corporate businesses have done the same. Influencers of all sorts will show themselves at the ritual during the day, including politicians who use the event as an opportunity to shake hands and pass along their name cards.

The welcoming of the Youngdeung gods is a major tradition on Jeju Island. The two major ceremonies, the gods’ landing and departure days, with rituals performed in the Gunip neighborhood of Jeju City, are televised and live-streamed on social media. In villages, like Hamdeok, the ceremony continues on with little fanfare. Village residents participate, wishing for the best in the coming year and mourning those they have lost since the last time the Youngdeung gods visited.
Fishermen gather nearby the harbor master's office. They've taken the day off and will help arrange for the ceremony.  Inside the nearby women diver's restaurant, a fixture in many coastal villages, their mothers, wives and grandmothers are preparing food offerings for the gods. Many visitors to the ceremony will feast, as well, alongside the participants., 
God and country, colors signifying the presence of shamanic deities and a Korean national flag. 
Flumes of color flowing into the building represent the road on which the gods travel.
The harbor master and a boat captain hang the names of those to be blessed by the altar.

God and country, a boat captain raises the Korean flag. In the background against the windows are flags raised to ensure protection from the sea deities. 

A boat captain raises a shamanic flag dedicated to sea deities. 

The shaman leading the ritual, Young Chul Kim, is from a family whose lineage has long history in the village. Charged with memorizing the long epic myths called bonpuri, shamans spend many years in preparation for leading such rituals. They won't only recite the island and village myths for hours at a time, but must also arrange ceremonial offering tables and commit themselves to the correct dance and gestures during the gut. Shamans from neighboring villages attend to help the local village shamans. In turn, they will travel along to the next village the following day to assist. While shimbang (shaman) Kim is the shaman leading the ritual, he still isn't the lead shaman in the village. That designation is his mother's. He will inherit the title when she retires.

Shinkal are ritual knives used for divination and shamanic healing.

The shaman Young Chul Kim, dressed in the robes of the Dragon King, marches the symbolic Dragon King road built to accommodate the major sea deity as he enters the village. 

A shaman from a neighboring village takes over part of the ceremony. Many of Jeju Island's epic myths are sung like this with a traditional buk drum placed in a basket before an altar. The shaman is performing an epic myth directly facing the gods, but also for the people in attendance. 
The  head diver and harbor master take on special roles in the ceremony, to ensure with their prayers and other ritualized acts, that this year's catch will be brought in successfully. They pray for safely and bounty. They kneel before the ceremonial bamboo road which is erected for the Dragon King, the major sea deity. Step by step, with the aid of the shaman's divination tools, they will 'open the road' by unbinding the bamboo. At this point, the shaman, bearing the costume of the the Dragon King's greeting, will usher in the god. 
Offerings of money are placed along the symbolic pathway. If any divers, fishermen or anyone else has died at sea in the past year—these bribes to the gods—ensure safe and successful passage to the afterlife. It's much like paying the boatman, if you will.
Women divers await the Dragon King's entrance.
Women divers help clear the symbolic path of seaweed and other objects, so that the Dragon King can enter without offense. In the case the ceremony is conducted by the seashore, the path will be erected by driving bamboo spears into the earth. 
After the Dragon King has entered the building and been feted, the Boat King is honored next. The divers dress as fisherman, which is why they wear white headbands. They dance, pretending to be celebrating or requesting an abundant catch from the gods. The Boat King protects the fishermen and their boats. Ceremony attendees place offerings in a buoyant container which will they place in the ocean for the Boat King to enjoy. They will dance, carrying these offerings, all the way to the harbor.
Video of dancing
Offerings for the Dragon King and Boat King are carried to the harbor where they will be placed in the water.
In 2017, the welcoming of the Dragon King portion of the ritual took place outdoors.
Women divers view the ritual, their fluorescent orange floats can be seen in the foreground. 
This year, a shaman from a neighboring village performs divination using beans and a bamboo mat. The mat represents the diving territory, while the beans represent areas where fish and other sea-life will be abundant. The  attendees are laughing because the shaman performed the divination slightly differently than what is normally done in Hamdeok.
In 2017, the ceremony included a parade integrating youth and other villagers into the festivities. 

Offerings for the Dragon King and Boat King are loaded into a truck. The women divers, still dressed as boat captains, and the actual boat captains accompany. The young woman in the center is an anthropologist from a university on the mainland. 

Back to Top