July 2, 2019
Standing just before the imposing but graceful gate leading to the palace, I stared in amazement. Dressed, as I was, in the traditional Korean hanbok, I could almost believe that I had somehow wandered into a time that was not my own,
Despite our difficulty, last night, in comprehending the subway system, we had successfully made our way to our first site: Gyeongbukgoong. Goong in Korean means Palace, and standing before me was the palace that had housed the royal family of the Joseon Dynasty, the last dynasty of Korea.
Back when our trip to Korea had been a plan-in-the-works, I had told my mom about our idea to explore Gyeongbukgoong in what I considered the “real” way: dressed in a hanbok, or the traditional Korean dress. She had laughed and told me that I would look like a tourist. Well, as it turns out, despite my heritage, I was a tourist to Korea, and I was determined to not shy away from so-called “touristy” activities.
With the plethora of shops and restaurants lining the street across from the palace, we had no trouble locating one of the many hanbok rental stores. Choosing the first one that caught our eye, we walked in.
I was absolutely floored by the sheer number of styles, colors, and sizes that were offered, each one absolutely exquisite in the detail and variety.
A typical hanbok for a woman consists of a jeogori, a long-sleeved outer garment that is slightly reminiscent of a blouse; and a chima, or the dress/skirt itself. After a full walk-through of all the skirt (chima) designs, I settled on a turquoise light blue skirt with white embroidery on a sheer layer of the skirt. My friend decided on a light purple skirt with embroidered pink and white flowers, and the employee found us a matching jeogori, or top. For an extra 1,000 won, we were offered hoop skirts, which we agreed to. I don’t think I was this excited for a dress since my high school prom!
For an extra 3,000 won, the employees offered to do our hair. I decided on a traditional braid, the hairstyle of unmarried girls in the Joseon era, with white and blue flower accessories pinned in. The finishing touch was a blue and white daenggi, a traditional ribbon made to hold my braid in place. The rental shop also lent us a small handbag for our excursion.
Dressed as noblewomen from an era long past and excited to step into a different era, we left, thrilled with the results of our choices and eager to see Gyeongbukgoong.
The palace was breathtaking. If it hadn’t been for the throngs of foreign tourists, and the modern city bustling around the palace, I could have almost believed we were back in the era when the palace had been the center of the nation.
After happily discovering that admission was free with our hanboks, we entered through a large gate and found ourselves in an enormous courtyard that was absolutely full of tourists trying (unsuccessfully) to take pictures of just themselves. We were in Geunjeonjeong, or the main courtyard. Within the building at the top of a stone staircase was, what must have once been, the throne room. A replica of the throne was on display and it was an amazing sight to take in. And thus, the photo shoot began ~
An extremely kind mother-daughter pair came up to us, presumably because they heard us speaking in English, and asked to take a picture of us from the back. Thanks to them, we also got a wonderfully aesthetic picture of our decorated hair and dresses with a (miraculously) empty courtyard and building in front of us.
Of all the sites we visited in the palace, my favorite was the pavilion on the lake, Gyeonghoeru. It was luxurious and beautiful, especially with the lake reflecting the peaceful surroundings of the pavilion with it. It was almost surreal – the traditional hanok style buildings that I had seen only on the screen in my beloved historical Korean dramas and movies had suddenly come to life.
As beautiful as the buildings were, it was so hot. And to make matters worse, it was humid. So. Disgustingly. Humid. My friend and I are both from southern California. While our scorching Socal summer temperatures might beat Korea, we were definitely not ready to fight with the humidity. And truth be told, we didn’t see as much as I had originally wanted to due to our sensitivity to the humidity.
We were probably quite an amusing pair – all dressed up in our beautiful hanboks, trying (unsuccessfully) to fan ourselves with our hands, and trying to make sure our sweaty faces weren’t messing up our makeup.
There was a changing of the guards “show” outside of the busy main gate. I honestly felt a little bad for the men who were all wearing traditional government/military clothes in the disgustingly humid weather while forcing themselves to not react to the throng of tourists pushing for a picture.
We made our way to the far edge of the palace, that had been set aside as the National Folk Museum. With the high turrets, the museum building itself was a sight to see. Right nearby was a preserved replica of what a common house would have looked like. In contrast to the palace where the royal family resided, the much-smaller huts that we now saw were for the common, lower-class families. Each room had been preserved with the original purpose in mind.
While we had originally intended a small break before continuing after we were attacked by ants in every bench we found, and with the three-hour rent period coming to a close, we headed back to the hanbok rental shop.
Despite our relief to finally be out of the long-sleeve and floor-length skirt of the hanbok, a part of me missed it as soon as we returned them. Being in such an intricate and beautiful dress had not only made me feel like royalty, but it had also brought back feelings of nostalgia for all of my past New Year’s where I had celebrated with my own hanbok. It had been a fun, if slightly sticky afternoon, and I couldn’t help but look into every hanbok rental shop we passed if only to admire the variety of designs in one of Korea’s most enduring cultural experiences.