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61 a simpler life Our title comes from the Korean poem “A pair of shoes in the yard” by Moon Tae-jun, which has haunted me for many years. The verse speaks of sadness for our life of sacri- fice; a sacrifice for lavish consumerism, sanc- tioned by the overlords parasitically existing off our interest payments. “The darkening yard” is the epiphanic moment in this tale: It is the start of a soul’s meditative journey to inoculate itself from the trappings of the predictable, insipid, capitalist urban lifestyle — the beginning of a search for the stillness promised in the Land of the Morning Calm. The national bourgeois collective, with their marked concerns for material interests and a saddening lack of passion, indeed do forego the small joys in search of faster phones and fine cars. The darkening yard is my search for Korea’s simple life, and that search started along the peninsula’s southern coast, nestled among the minute islands where fishing and farming are still fundamental ways of life. I recently discovered one such island whose inhabitants numbered so few that on the day I spent there I saw no more than 10 locals. Oedaldo is charmingly known as the “lovers’ island,” a name sure to eventually draw hoards of tourists to its humble shores. Simple and unassuming hanok dot the island, with most being run by elderly retirees who have repur- posed the buildings for straggling tourists who sometimes get stuck overnight. Though even with few creature comforts, these places are quite welcoming. If you visit Oedaldo, it’s like- ly that you’ll be spending much of your time walking the uncut coastline that gracefully ascends from the murky waters that wrap the entirety of the island. purposeful labor, purposeful joys As I walked, I was reminded of the fact that far too many people slog, scurry and sacrifice their well-being in hopes of bettering only the mirage of a meaningful existence. Later, only after decades of labor, in a moment of honest reflection do they discover that which they had thought was merely shreds of a life: a leased car, an apartment that they do not own and a short vacation every few years. These things are the yield of a life sacrificed under the back- breaking hum of florescent lights and the glar- ing eye of a sweaty overseer. As I wandered around Oedaldo, I found I both respected and envied the inhabitants of this fine, little island. Life there is lived by means of toil and the strength of a person’s spirit. Nothing comes easy, as much of their food is either harvest- ed locally from their farms or drawn from the unforgiving sea. Those living on Oedaldo have chosen to embrace the small joys, such as having the Yellow Sea at their feet and the torrid, amber sun on their backs. There may be fewer than a dozen cars on the island, but with everything no more than a 20-minute walk away, cars seemed like an unnecessary dis- traction — merely a source of noise pollution reserved for laggard, lethargic mainlanders. These southern islands and undiscovered villages are the places we should be seeing in ads, but are always sidestepped in favor of sparkling fashionistas and tiresome tourist venues. They’re abundant, just waiting for you outside Korea’s capital region, and they’re the closest approximation to what the first travelers must have witnessed when settling this region. Korea is a beautiful place, and breaking free of the noise and light pollution of modernity will unveil it for you. GETTING THErE c Oedaldo is located west of Mokpo, approximately 40 minutes from the city via the ferry, but Mokpo International Ferry Terminal is the only place where you can hop a boat. Book early, and bring food and water (there are only a few eateries on the island and no convenience stores). Some of the images featured in this article are in Sabrina Hill’s newest book, “Canvas Fire: A Collection of Sublime Photography from Sabrina Hill.” Website: www.sabrinaconstance.com.