Although
shamanism shaped Korean culture for centuries,
it is rarely mentioned in Korean dynastic records.
Extraordinarily resilient, it survived persecution
during the l970's as well as rapid industrialization,
partly because it was embedded in family rituals
and community life. Unraveling its mysteries
was my anthropological passion because I believed
that
it was a key to understanding the modern Korean
mindset. A family friend and former general in
the army during the Korean War urged me to do
research on Cheju Island before its shamanist cults
disappeared. "They
worship snakes," he said, tempting my curiosity.
He described village rituals devoted to a powerful
snake spirit who could cause illness or make
people rich. I could not imagine a more compelling
academic
adventure
I reached
Cheju in the summer of l977 but I was apprehensive
about the feasibility of my project. It often takes
weeks to infiltrate a community of shamans and gain
their trust, but the island's spirits must have been
watching over me. During my first visit to the local
folk museum I was invited to a shaman rite. A 40-year
old woman was afflicted with an illness that prevented
her from speaking. The doctors said there was nothing
wrong with her physically so they could not cure her.
In desperation, her husband's family had called upon
one of the island's most famous shamans, Mun OkSun.
A small, frail woman in her 60's, she nevertheless
commanded everyone taking part in the 3-day ceremony.
She jumped with such force into the air when she danced
that her long sequined dress flew above her knees.
One family member told me that a messenger spirit had
possessed her.
During an
interlude, Mun sent me an intense look
across the room. Did she disapprove
of my presence? I was about to leave when
she motioned me to come closer. Then she
smiled and reached for my hand. I was reluctant,
but my assistant explained that she wanted
to read my fortune. "You are part of
a family with five children (which is true).
You have done many things in music and art
(also true), and you will marry before the
end of the year (I had 3 months to go and
no prospects in sight but my future partner
showed up as predicted)." She invited
me to share their meals and participate in
the ceremonies. By evening, her assistants
had taken a liking to me and decided that
I should join their music team playing the
gong. The next day Japanese tourists flashed
their cameras at us, unaware that I was a
stranger to the whole affair.
By sheer
coincidence, Mun OkSun lived next to the
sacred tree in which the famed snake
spirit was said to rest. One day at her home
she sang for me the epic tale of the Agassi
snake spirit. The tale is as follows. "There
was once a Chinese couple who was called
by the heavenly spirit to govern in Heaven.
They were very sad because they would have
to leave their 7-year old daughter behind.
Misfortune struck when a servant who was
entrusted with her care lost her in a forest.
A monk rescued the girl, carrying her away
in his begging sack. Miraculously, the child
became pregnant. When the parents returned,
they searched for her and after consulting
with the monk were reunited with their daughter.
But upon learning of her pregnancy, they
were full of shame and banished her. She
was locked in a box and sent out to sea where
she floated under the protection of the dragon
king. Finally, she landed on Cheju Island.
On the beach, Cheju women divers discovered
the box and opened it to release a beautiful
giant snake and seven baby serpents. Soon
afterwards, the divers became ill and they
realized that the snakes were spirits. After
they made offerings, they were healed, became
wealthy and had many children. From that
time on, the Cheju islanders have worshipped
the snake spirit." Mun explained that
the Agassi snake spirit was commemorated
in heaven by the Big Dipper that has seven
stars. At ceremonies, we often added a bottle
of Chilseung or Seven-Star soda just for
Agassi on the offering table. For a few days
afterwards, I visited Mun to conduct interviews.
Finally she decided it would be easier if
I just moved in so I was given the room near
the sacred tree. The propitious location
of my bedroom obliged me to point my feet
toward Seoul while sleeping. According to
some folklorists, that posture brought me
even better luck. Mun OkSun soon adopted
me as her Korean-American daughter. She introduced
me to the inner circles of shamans, and I
traveled with her throughout the island as
part of her group.
I accompanied her to the cancer clinic where
she herself was receiving treatments. I was
puzzled by her confidence in the western-trained
doctor, naively believing that shamans competed
with modern health practitioners. But Mun
never saw any contradiction between her healing
methods and those of modern medical practitioners.
She had great faith in pharmaceuticals and
always told her patients to follow doctors'
orders. She told me that shamans dealt with
mental and spiritual problems that were often
ignored by doctors. Indeed most of the cases
I witnessed involved patients whose physical
ailments were inseparable from their psychological
well-being. A tuberculosis patient had become
an alcoholic and stopped taking his medicine.
A partially paralyzed boy was so depressed
that he wouldn't eat. Others suffered from
mental disorders or distress from chronic
or incurable illnesses. I believe Mun's greatest
contribution to healing was her ability to
restore her patients' will to live, and she
had what no doctor could offer-the authority
of ancestral spirits to back her up. With
extraordinary intuitive skills and a wealth
of understanding about her patients' symbolic
universe, Mun accomplished what any effective
psychotherapist might achieve. She accepted
the subjective world of her patients, and
she bestowed high status upon their inner
suffering.
Perhaps the
key to understanding a shaman's role is
what T. S. Elliot once referred to
as the "wounded surgeon." Many
shamans have a history of serious illnesses,
and they share their patients' worldview
as members of the community-all useful experiences
when working with the rural and urban poor.
Like any group of healers, doctors included,
there are charlatans among them. But most
Cheju shamans I met were people of great
faith who strongly believed in their right
to freedom of religion. Shamanism is a religion
with no temple, bible or institutionalized
priesthood and yet it thrives to this day
bcause they defended that right.
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