My trip to Jeju in November included a stop at the Bug Museum. I have no idea what its proper title is (I was told it was a Butterfly Garden, a Theme Park, and a Pet Restaurant), so I'm calling it the Bug Museum. We stepped off the tour bus and walked inside to see a roomful of what I would call Classical Nude paintings. Mostly depending on their gender, my accompanying teachers either sidled forward for a closer look, or squealed and bolted for the bug room. I nonchalantly strolled past the paintings, glancing over the heads of the males to see painted red curtains and the faces of the 15th Century ideal Italian woman. My Co-Teacher - henceforth known as CT - grabbed my arm and hustled me after the other female teachers.
"We don't have this in Korea," she explained, "so they are surprised. And the men are shocked."
I slid a glance over my shoulder. "Shocked, huh? I'll bet they are so shocked they can't move."
My sarcasm flew over her head. "Yes. Exactly."
The first thing we saw in the bug room was a large mosaic of dead butterflies pinned to the wall. I stopped to marvel at the colors arrangement and CT pulled a face.
"Oh, this is awful," she said. "They killed all these butterflies for this?"
I paused for some split-second internal dialogue: I see a beautiful display and she sees a wall full of death. This is either a very complex commentary on East Asian vs. American culture, or nothing more than two clashing point of views. Wait. SHOULD I see a wall of death? Now that she mentions it, it is kind of gross. But they are so pretty. And you can never see butterflies so artfully arranged in the wild.
"Look at this!" CT called, pulling me to the next display.
I stared. I took a step closer. I took a step back. I cocked my head.
"Why are there bugs dressed up as school children?" I asked.
CT shook her head. "I don't know. But isn't it cute?"
"Uhhhh . . ."
Okay, so THIS is a commentary on East Asian vs. American culture, I thought, or just another example of our clashing views.
We moved to the next display. It featured beetles in a restaurant setting. Some wore aprons and carried trays of what I can only assume were tiny bowls of japchae and others sat at the tables, bug menus in hand.
"Ha ha!" CT laughed. "How funny!"
"Funny haha or funny weird?" I asked.
Call me crazy, but playing dress up with beetles and praying mantises (mantis? manties?) is slightly more creepy than pinning a bunch of butterflies on the wall. But, hey, whatever floats your boat, right?
And so we moved through the displays. I goggled at a bug astronaut, a bug king, a bug hospital complete with nurses and doctors, a bug dungeon with a scorpion holding a tiny club filled with spikes, bug soccer players, and Bug Land - a miniature theme park literally crawling with bug tourists.
"Look at these beetles!" CT called, beckoning me over to another display. "Do you know the Korean traditional card game?"
I snapped a picture of the bugs. "Nope."
CT looked crestfallen. "Oh. Well . . . it's a traditional Korean card game . . . a gambling game."
"Like poker?" I asked.
CT shook her head. "No. Yes. Maybe. I don't really know how to play," she confessed, her voice deep with the shame of being Korean and NOT understanding how to play their traditional card game.
"That's okay," I said. "I don't really know how to play poker."
She smiled and we both stood there staring at the bugs.
"They're so pretty," CT commented after a moment.
"The bugs or the cards?" I asked.
"The cards."
Another moment of silence and then CT said, "That's they're real size."
"The bugs or the cards?" I repeated.
"The cards. And the bugs. They are all of them their real size." She turned to look at the next display (a bunch of Egyptian beetles whipping small cockroaches into building a pyramid for them). "Maybe we can do that someday," she said.
"The card game?"
She shook her head. "No, I shouldn't gamble. I mean the bugs."
I almost dropped my camera. "You mean, we should kill a bunch of bugs and dress them up as teachers and doctors and stuff?"
She made a face. "Well, not real bugs."
"Right. Of course. Fake bugs."
"Exactly." She nodded in agreement and moved on.
"Or we could do flower arranging," I suggested, hurrying to catch up.
CT circled around to the butterfly mosaic again. "Maybe," she said, shuddering as her eyes caught sight of the butterflies again. "Yuck. Isn't it sad?"
I threw my glance back at the bug gladiator display. "Yes it is. So very sad."
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