The Silhak Philosophy

Actually, on our first full day of sightseeing in Seoul, we wanted to visit the Gyeongbokgung Palace, known as a tourist hotspot, but it's closed on Tuesdays as well as Mondays, as we discovered at the entrance gate. Therefore, we set our sights on our second destination and hopped onto the metro, transferring at Wangsimni Station to a suburban train that takes us from Seoul into the mountains east of the Korean capital. There lies the burial site of Chong Yagyong (1762-1836), also known as Tasan or Dasan. He is a significant representative of the important Korean philosophical movement of Silhak, which is why the Silhak Museum is also located beside the burial site. I read his main work 'Mongmin simso' (목민심서), which translates to 'Treatises on the Art of Governing the People' in German, before the trip, and for me, the grave with the museum is the most important destination of the vacation to Korea. In his work, he provides examples of good governance that prevent corruption and create an efficient administration. Dasan himself served as governor in the province of Gyeongsang-do for some time and could benefit from his own experiences in writing the work. After a long train ride, we get off at Ungilsan Station and head to the bus stop. There, we strike up a conversation with an older gentleman who also wants to visit the museum and immediately shows us photos from his vacations and of his grandson, who lives in Shanghai with his daughter. The 79-year-old lives in Seoul and shares many pictures of his hiking peaks, an impressive vigorous Korean. According to my app, we need Bus 58, and after quite a while, Bus 58-3 arrives. We board and set off. Long before reaching the museum, our brisk Korean retiree stands up to get off. I tell him that this isn’t the museum, and we must continue. He briefly speaks with the driver and gets off. I look astonished, but the bus driver has already closed the door and driven off again. The mystery is solved moments later when the bus continues straight at an intersection instead of turning left. That's the wrong direction for us, and I ask the bus driver, who doesn’t speak any English. By somehow pointing to the map on my phone, I interpret his gestures and Korean monologue as indicating that we are going the wrong way. So we get off and walk back down the street in the heat, enduring my continual cursing. It's surprising how much a little additional