Let's have a look at one of my favorite places in Korea, St. Lazarus Village, on the outskirts of the city of Anyang. It's where Joel Reynoso, Paul's best friend, lives. He's a Peace Corps volunteer in the leprosy (more properly, Hansen's Disease) program. Here's how it's described in the book:
The ‘Hanguk Nabyong Yonguwon’—the Korean Leprosy Institute—gleamed clean and white and block-like before the shaggy mountainside against which it nestled, serenely poised within a small horseshoe-shaped valley near the city of Anyang, about twenty-five kilometres south of Seoul.
A cluster of houses, pig farms, and small factory workshops flanking the KLI and its hospital comprised the ‘leprosy re-settlement village’ called St Lazarus Village. Patients from all parts of Korea came to the hospital to be diagnosed and treated and, if Catholic, to live in the village. At the hospital they received antibiotics to render them non-infectious and physical therapy to ease the discomfort of their deformities. In the village they relied on Father Lee and his chapel for spiritual comfort and on eight Daughters of Charity for daily care. All who came to live there knew that they would die there, but no one seemed to mind. They were lucky, they believed, to live out their lives in the village—debilitated but happy in a little paradise of a valley far removed from bitter years of ostracism on the outside. It was better to live and die peacefully among one’s fellows than to endure a short living death in the outer world.
This is the entrance to the Village. It's a walk of about a mile from here to the KLI, but buses weren't routed there and most of the time you couldn't get a taxi driver to enter unless you insisted strenuously and paid extra. (Because of all the lepers in there, you know.) In all but the worst weather, though, it was a pleasant walk for a vigorous 20-something volunteer.
The valley was ringed with lovely low mountains that sported purple azaleas in the springtime, tawny colors in autumn, and a dusting of snow in winter.
The KLI sat in the middle of the valley against one of the hills.
The most debilitated patients lived in the upper Village, up the valley from the KLI. There they were cared for by a group of about a dozen Catholic nuns. Sister Constance, an American nun of whom I grew quite fond, is the model for the character Sister Miriam in The Seed of Joy.
The chapel served the spiritual needs of all the residents of the Village. Like Paul in the book, I attended Christmas Eve Mass there in 1979 -- a deeply moving experience.
The grounds had several pieces of religious sculpture: the Crucifixion, the Virgin Mary, and the first Korean priest, among others. They were painted bright white and at night they seemed to glow. Sometimes, walking around after dark, I forgot they were there -- and seeing them out of the corner of my eye they scared the living crap out of me.
And finally, here are some miscellaneous shots from around the valley and the Village.
Thanks for reading. Next time we'll continue the story with a trip to Chindo and other locales.
Don't forget to buy your very own copy of The Seed of Joy and tell your friends about it! It's available in Kindle and iTunes editions.
