On Arirang Road and Sad Remembering
By Stephen K. Roney 
The Korea Herald
January 4, 2002

So far as we know, the word "Arirang" means nothing. It is nameless sorrow. It is the blues. But it is the refrain to an entire genre of Korean folk lyrics. Most about lost love; all about loss.

The most famous, the Gyeonggi-do Arirang, is sung by a woman whose love is disappearing over a mountain pass. She watches him go:

"Arirang, arirang, arariyo
The last man I'll love leaves on Arirang Road.
If you forsake, you unmake me, my own -
I wish that your leg, not your heart, were of stone..."

In this jewel of song, Arirang is actually a road, over a mountain pass of the same name.

It seems a suitable quest for a wanderer.

But the finding is too easy. There are any number of roads named "Arirang," over any number of Arirang Passes. Including one in Riverside, California. Which way to turn?

I cast my own fond vote for Arirang-gogae-gil in eastern Seoul. According to one theory, after all, the Gyeonggi-do Arirang became the national classic in the latter years of the nineteenth century, when men were being pulled from their wives and lovers through all kinds of mountain passes as conscripted labor to rebuild Gyeongbok Palace. They learned it in Seoul, then; this particular Arirang Pass was more likely than most to be the one in sight as they sang it; sang the sad refrain and thought of their loves.

And there is a second circumstance favoring this Arirang Road. It is in view of the tomb of Queen Sindeok, one of the great lost loves of history.

Yi Taejo, the founder king of the Joseon Dynasty, met her on a hunt. Pursued by a wounded tiger, he had fled to the point of exhaustion, and collapsed by some other mountain pass, far away.

When he regained consciousness, he saw a beautiful woman, drawing water from a spring. Barely alive, he called out for a drink. She filled a bowl, then sprinkled the surface with willow leaves.

This Taejo thought deliberate cruelty; he could only drink slowly, alternately sucking through teeth and blowing the willow leaves away.

But Sindeok knew best. She explained: in his thirst, he would tend to drink too fast. The willow leaves prevented this; he was unable in his passion to do himself harm.

The man who would be king was now dazzled by her wisdom as her beauty. He followed her home, and, although his prospects then did not seem bright, convinced her to marry him. When he, unexpectedly, took power in Seoul to found the Joseon Dynasty, she became queen.

Only four years later, Sindeok died. Taejo was inconsolable. He had her buried in the city, violating his own ordinances, within sight of the palace. Even so, he could not go on. Fierce as he might seem, the old tiger had had the heart ripped out of him. He could not discharge his duties without the help and support of the woman he loved. He abdicated and retired to mourning. Sindeok was then buried here, overlooking Arirang Pass.

Just below is a memorial temple, Shinhung-sa. At its entrance, a village of wedding halls testifies to the pass's status as one of Seoul's most romantic sites.

Visit it with someone you love. And hold the person tight, so they cannot wander away.

To wander Arirang Road, take the blue [Seoul] subway line to Sungshin Women's University station, and walk north. Arirang-gogae-gil crosses the crest of Samgak Mountain at the Bugak Skyway, and ends in the next valley at Chongnung-gil. Sinheung temple and Jeongneung - Sindeok's grave - are possible side trips.

Stephen K. Roney guided the Seoul Mystery Tours. He is now Multimedia Course Materials Editor at Athabasca University, Canada. Contact him at sroney@bigfoot.com, or visit his website at http://www.crosswinds.net/~sroney/ - Ed.