Woodenfish Part 2

I’ve described the factual elements of the Woodenfish program so now I’ll give a more evaluative perspective on the program. Overall, I’d say that the program for me was very worth it—spiritually, personally, intellectually, and in various other aspects. I’d have rather gone here in a heartbeat compared to any other summer program I could have gone to, whether it be in the U.S. or elsewhere. But there were also several problematic aspects that I do not believe should go unnoticed or without being commented on. Yes—the value I received from this program was immense and I deeply enjoyed it— but this experience was colored by certain factors that essentially detracted from the program’s holistic value, image, and morals. It’s a complex and nuanced situation that I can’t fully describe either as good or bad. Rather, the biases engendered by these issues and the upsides coexist in this gray space that I’ll leave you to judge for yourselves. So, I’ll start out with what I found problematic, and close off with what I identify to be unproblematic or rather up to mark. 

Among many issues, some things that stood out to me were the lack of logistical, cultural, and moral competency demonstrated by the organizers, with some of these issues being perpetuated and contributed to by us participants. While I discuss these, I’d also like to credit another participant whose ideas and writing greatly contributed to my understanding of the various issues present here at the program—just to point out that not all of these ideas are fully mine. 

First and foremost, I do think that we should give some grace to the program for its logistical shortcomings. It was their first time in another country besides Taiwan, their original host location, and coming to Woljeongsa was no easy feat especially as their first time after Covid. This led to the lack of staff and general logistical readiness presented by the program. Normally, Woodenfish is staffed with 10 people, but this time we had 6 people (who are former Woodenfish participants), with one leaving during the program and many others considering leaving at various points throughout the program. 

I would like to state that it is in no way the fault of a single person, but rather a product of a poorly prepared and managed system that led to an accumulation of burdens for all the staff. In addition, it is likely that in addition to these unfortunate circumstances, the harsh management style of those above these staff members contributed to this issue of mismanagement. The mental burdens originating from harsh criticism, blame, and a lack of grace from higher management seems to have damaged staff’s already limited ability to take care of things. And so, I would like to see it as this: the staff being in a difficult situation as much even if not more harsh than our conditions as participants, so I would like to be understanding, while it does not excuse the overall logistical conditions. I would simply like to point the source to a higher cause. 

In line with this theme of logistical and now cultural incompetency, another issue that I felt deeply aggrieved about was the food—or rather, our relationship to it as participants. During the program, several people had complained about the lack of food, and as such, the food was increased in quality and modified to more suit the taste of the participants. Yet, throughout the entire program, there continued to be leftovers remaining after each meal. This lack of respect for the people that enabled this food to be brought before us as well as the cultural norms of food culture within Korean Buddhism was a manifestation of this logistical and cultural incompetency. 

Next, one of the biggest issues of the program was the lack of cultural understanding and explanation of Korean culture, which in my perspective was undergirded by the involvement of ULA (Unlimited Lights Chinese Cultural Academy) and this clash between Korean and Chinese Buddhism. The Woodenfish program is originally held in Taiwan, and its roots involve Humanistic Buddhism and the Tiantai tradition. However, Korean Seon Buddhism differs in various aspects in terms of rituals, practice, and more. This clash should have been handled with a stronger cultural sensitivity. For example, chanting, instruments (the bell vs the woodenfish), bowing, and simply overall cultural norms clashed in many instances and I believe just cultural context could have been given that could have solved many of the issues.

Beyond that, during the last 3 days of the program there were several problematic aspects that were contributed to in part by ULA. For example, ULA is an organization that originates in Taiwan and thus practices and upholds Chinese Buddhism and culture. Yet, ULA led the Korean cultural tour during the last 3 days, which I surmise to be from the fact that they were the sponsors of Woodenfish. It does not make sense for a group with no native Korean experience to lead a Korean cultural tour, period. This led to severe cultural misrepresentation and degradation of Korean culture throughout these 3 days. 

I understand that if need be, we could have had ULA do the cultural tour. But with this in mind, it would have been highly appropriate to humbly acknowledge the huge responsibility, lack of authority, and potential biases one may have in the position of ULA. Furthermore, while a fully Korean-led tour may not have been possible, a larger integration of authoritative Korean experts would have been apropos. Yet, none of this happened. In fact, in several instances, gross examples of cultural incompetency occurred—and while ULA did seek to apologize and make up for these instances after feedback from the participants, this does not excuse the initial behavior.

One specific occasion that stuck out to me was one that found its genesis in our Andong trip to the Hahoe Village. The location is well-regarded for its masks and the dance/performance that incorporates these masks. This talnori is a Korean dance that is designed to mock the Korean elites of times past. 

To provide more context, I will further explain. The modern social inequality that pervades Korea today pays tribute to ancient Confucian values of hierarchy and society. Korea, as the most Confucian country in the world, has deeply institutionalized notions of Confucianism and throughout history, this has led to the stratification of social classes. However, many of the lower class have felt discontent throughout history regarding this division. As such, talnori is what they turn to. Talnori is a way to break apart the notion that Confucian and Buddhist elites are as perfect as they claim themselves to be. After all, the practiced form of religion and philosophy is much different from the actual ideals themselves.

ULA proceeded to criticize this dance. Of course, there were faults on the side of the performers—for example, lack of cultural context in English. However, I believe misunderstanding or failure to understand should lead to a curious mindset to learn more, not a confident evaluation of what little one has seen of a more comprehensive picture. This plays a part into this sort of air of cultural superiority I felt from the ULA personnel, with the teachers stating that it was necessary for Koreans to learn Chinese to maintain cultural competency and true refinement. 

On a more logistical note, the last three days planned by ULA were difficult, to say the least. The schedule was hectic, without much time to rest or have leisure, and the bus rides were uncomfortable due to the fact that there were continuous lectures throughout the bus rides preventing us from being able to sleep or relax.

Overall, the Woodenfish Program was flawed in many ways, in logistical, cultural, and moral manners. These should serve as a way to learn and improve the program in future eras. However, despite all of this criticism, I do view the Woodenfish Program as an invaluable program full of amazing people both on the organizing and participating side, and I will hold it as a core memory full of learning, growth, and connection.