From Hunminjeongeum to Hillside Murals: Echoes of Korean Commoners' Lives Over Centuries

Our journey began with a pile of mysterious stones and colorful cloth strips. These were not the glazed tiles of a palace, but the Seonghwangdang shrines in Korean folk villages, where commoners prayed to the mountains and rivers for harvest and peace. This primal and resilient faith was born in humble thatched cottages. In an era of material scarcity, a single storm could destroy homes. Yet, it was in this modest environment that a great gift was bestowed—Hunminjeongeum. King Sejong planted the seeds of dignity by giving the people their own written language.

Centuries later, we climbed another hillside. The cement stairs of Ihwa Village replaced the dirt paths of the past, and the blue street sign reading 'Ihwa-dong 1na-gil' silently narrated the historical distance between this place and the grand residences of the elite below. Looking up, the web-like electric wires, the lifeblood of modern civilization, deliver light and information to every household, completely redefining the meaning of survival. Today, people's spiritual solace is no longer a pile of stones but murals on walls, filled with heartwarming stories.

The most profound moment was when we gazed from the hillside at the ancient city walls nearby. Once a boundary dividing royal authority and commoners, even the tightly locked palace gates are now open to all. This confidence perhaps stems from the residents' leisure to decorate the small gardens in front of their homes under the sun, a pride in savoring the ordinary days with richness.

At the journey's end, a cat poked its head out of a window, curiously observing the world. In its serene gaze, we seemed to see the dreams of ancestors who once prayed before stone piles: a life free from fear and a warm corner to call their own.

Post by 有伴同旅其樂無窮 | Oct 15, 2025