May 1 - 25 (Part 15) Discovering the Soul of Andong
May 17th
Our next destination: Andong, often called the heart of traditional Korean culture.
Andong is one of those places where history doesn’t just sit in museums. It lives and breathes. With cultural heritage spanning nearly every period of Korean history, it offers a rare glimpse into how traditions, philosophies and daily life have intertwined over centuries. Buddhism, Confucianism and even Christianity have layered themselves here like sedimentary rock, shaping the spirit of the region.
A Morning at Dosanseowon Confucian Academy
Because we couldn’t check into our hotel yet (there seemed to be a big event, possibly a wedding, judging by all the beautifully dressed people), we decided to head north to Dosanseowon.
Nestled between mountains and overlooking a peaceful river, this Confucian Academy immediately felt like stepping into another era. Built in 1574 to honor the scholar Yi Hwang (pen name: Toegye), it became a center for learning and reflection during the Joseon Dynasty.
Walking through the complex, you can clearly see its structure: spaces dedicated to learning, rituals and daily life. It’s no surprise that Dosanseowon is part of the UNESCO-listed ‘Seowon, Korean Neo-Confucian Academies’. These academies were once the intellectual heart of Korea, shaping both education and society.
But honestly? The theory is impressive, but being there is something else entirely.
We wandered slowly through the sandy paths, surrounded by wooden buildings that seemed to whisper stories from the past. It felt calm, almost timeless.
This is the main lecture hall of Dosanseowon Confucian Academy. It was built in 1574 and consists of a wooden-floored hall on the right and an underfloor-heated room on the left.
Between the hall and the room are liftable doors that allow the spaces to be opened into a single large room when necessary. The white wooden plaque hanging at the front bears the name of this Confucian academy. It was bestowed by King Seonjo (r. 1567-1608) in 1575 and was calligraphed by the renowned calligrapher Han Ho (1543-1605).
In front of the tall foundation are a pair of stairs, and the structure to the left of the stairs is a stone lamp. The small gate to the right of this building leads to the shrine.
This shrine was built in 1574 to honor Yi Hwang (1501-1570) and his student Jo Mok (1524-1606). As the shrine is regarded as a sacred place, it is surrounded by its own stone wall and can be entered only by passing through a gate in the wall.
Normally, a shrine has a simple style with a gable roof, but the shrine in Dosanseowon has rather elaborate style with a hip-and-gable roof. Rituals are held here biannually in the second and eighth lunar months.
The gate was also built around 1574. It is called the "inner three-door gate" in Korean in relation to the "outer" main gate of the complex and because it consists of three doors.
The door in the center is reserved for the spirits of those honored in the shrine who are said to return to this place during rituals, while the doors on the right and left are used by the ritual participants to enter and exit the shrine, respectively.
This is a traditional Korean kitchen setup, specifically the Agungi (fireplace) and Gamasot (large iron pots).
How it Works
This setup is a brilliant example of traditional Korean engineering. It served a dual purpose:
• The Agungi (Fireplace): The square holes at the bottom are where wood was fed to start a fire
• The Gamasot (Iron Pots): These heavy cast-iron pots were used for cooking large quantities of rice or soup. They are famous for their heavy lids, which create a high-pressure environment, basically an early version of a pressure cooker, making the rice exceptionally fluffy.
• The Ondol System: This is the most clever part. The hot smoke and air from these fires didn't just escape; they were channeled through flues underneath the floors of the adjacent rooms. This is the Ondol (underfloor heating) system that kept scholars warm during harsh Korean winters.
The museum at Dosanseowon (Okjingak) houses some of the most profound "mental health" advice from the Joseon Dynasty. These plates represent the core of Yi Hwang’s (Toegye’s) philosophy: that true learning isn't just about books, but about self-regulation and emotional balance.
1. Susinsibhun (Ten Rules for Self-Cultivation)
These are the "Golden Rules" Yi Hwang lived by. They weren't just suggestions; they were a roadmap for how a "Junzi" (a person of noble character) should behave.
The Susinsibhun focuses on outward behavior reflecting inward discipline:
• Be Mindful when Alone: Even when no one is watching, maintain your integrity.
• Respect the Morning: Start the day with a clear, focused mind.
• Speech and Action: Every word should be weighed, and every action should be deliberate, not impulsive.
• Filial Piety and Social Harmony: Treating parents and neighbors with genuine sincerity.
2. Junghwatang (The "Prescription" for a Balanced Mind)
This is perhaps the most creative piece in the museum. Yi Hwang framed his psychological advice as a medical prescription. In Korean traditional medicine, a "tang" (soup/decoction) is a remedy for physical illness. Yi Hwang argued that our "hearts" get sick from stress and greed, so we need a mental "soup."
The Junghwatang lists 30 "ingredients" (virtues) needed to cure a troubled mind.
The "Instruction" for the Medicine:
Yi Hwang jokingly (but seriously) wrote that you should "mix these 30 ingredients well with the 'Water of the Heart' and boil them over the 'Fire of Sincerity'."
The Goal: To reach Junghwa, a state of perfect emotional equilibrium where you are neither too excited nor too depressed.
3. Why These Plates are on the Wall
The museum displays these because Yi Hwang was a pioneer in what we might today call Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT). He believed:
1. Emotions can be "cooked": You can process raw, angry emotions into something useful.
2. Environment matters: By putting these plates on the wall, he was practicing "visual reminders" to keep his thoughts from wandering.
These plates serve as a reminder to visitors that while he was a genius scholar, he struggled with the same human frustrations, stress and anger that we do today. He just developed a very sophisticated "pharmacy" of the mind to deal with them.
A Message I Chose, Written in Hanja
Then came one of those unexpected travel moments I love, unplanned, but somehow meaningful.
Near the entrance stood a modest tent with wooden printing blocks. A man behind the table invited me to try it myself. I could choose from three different wooden blocks, each carved with Chinese characters. Hanja, the writing system used in those days by scholars and officials.
Maybe it was the calmness of the surroundings or everything I had just taken in while wandering through the Academy. There was one message that felt right. Not just as a souvenir, but as something I wanted to carry with me.
I inked the block, carefully placed the paper on top and gently rubbed over it. As I lifted the paper the characters revealed themselves:
“Always Have A Respectful Heart.”
A simple sentence, but somehow it felt perfectly fitting for a place like this. But also did it feel like a quiet reminder of humility, of a kind of mindset I want to travel (and live) with.
And yes, I still have it. And now, every time I look at it, it brings me right back to that peaceful place.
Walking on Water at Seonseong Waterway
On our way back, we stumbled upon something completely different: a floating walkway.
Located near Seobu-ri, this 1 km section of the larger waterway quite literally lets you walk on water. With every step, the bridge gently rocked beneath us, just enough to make it fun without being scary.
Surrounded by views of Andong Lake and blessed with warm, sunny weather, it turned into one of those unexpectedly perfect travel moments.
A Simple Dinner in Andong
After finally checking into our hotel and freshening up, we drove into the city for dinner.
We picked a small, busy restaurant (always a good sign), but quickly realized the menu was… entirely meat. Not exactly what I was craving that night, but we went with it anyway.
Result: way too much food. Again 😅
Still, the atmosphere was cozy, the staff were kind and it felt like a very local experience, which always makes it worth it.
Evening Magic at Woryeonggyo Bridge
To end the day, we headed for a walk along the Nakdonggang River. And what a perfect decision that was.
Woryeonggyo Bridge, the longest wooden bridge in Korea, was beautifully illuminated. Its lights reflected on the water, creating a calm, almost romantic atmosphere. As we strolled along the river, the quiet was suddenly filled with the sound of countless frogs croaking in the distance. It added an unexpected, almost magical soundtrack to the night.
In the video, you can hear the gentle chorus of frogs croaking in the background, alongside a glimpse of one of the open pavilions in Andong Folk Village.
The bridge is inspired by a touching legend of a wife who made shoes from her own hair in mourning for her husband. A story of deep love that gives the bridge even more meaning.
Nearby, we passed the ‘I Love Andong’ sign and something we did not expect: a reflexology path made of pointed stones. A group of young men had gathered there, daring and teasing eachother to walk across it barefoot or at most in their socks. As if that would somehow make it easier.
One by one, they stepped onto the stones with a mix of confidence and hesitation. It quickly turned into laughter, grimaces and the occasional yelp of pain. Some tried to act tough, only to hop off halfway through, while others pushed on, determined not to lose face in front of their friends.
Watching this mix of bravery, pride and immediate regret was honestly hilarious. And one of those simple, spontaneous moments that made the evening even more memorable.
Ending the Day
We returned to our hotel, tired but content. The view was beautiful, the room comfortable and even though we were only staying one night, it felt like we had truly experienced something special.
I realized that Andong doesn’t try to impress you in loud or obvious ways. Instead, it gently invites you to pause, to observe and to connect, with history, with culture and maybe even a little with yourself.
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