The underwater giggles

It has been a very busy couple of days, but I promise this post will be worth it. I’ve been frequently (finally!) submerged, which doesn’t lend itself well to blogging.

As I had previously mentioned, I opted for an impromptu SCUBA excursion and am SO very glad that I did. I want to first note that going SCUBA diving when you and your dive buddy have a significant language barrier is not something I would recommend for an inexperienced diver. Yes, it is true that once submerged, SCUBA hand signals and communication is pretty universal. But getting on the same page at the surface is challenging when you are at the mercy of a translation app on your phone, which stays on the boat. In this case, as an experienced diver and PADI Divemaster, I felt confident in my own skills, and confident in my dive buddy’s skills and knowledge of the local area.

The SCUBA boat I went out on out of Seogwipo.

That said, communication with my dive buddy was rather funny at times. A welcoming man in his late 50s, my dive buddy is also an experienced divemaster, a fact he reassured me of via the translation app several times. On the way to the dive site, we mostly talked only in PADI lingo and just swapped certification words, while he took down several cigarettes (just a safe enough distance from the SCUBA tanks), and occasionally laughed at something that I couldn’t quite discern, maybe my feeble attempts at the few Korean words I kept practicing.

Once at the site, we saw a tourist submarine that I had seen docked previously near where I had watched the haenyeo work. Dive buddy got excited and pointed to it, saying “Submarine!”. It appeared that we would be diving close to the tourist sub, which gave me all kinds of ideas of nautical tomfoolery and fun that those of you who know me well can probably also envision. Maybe stage an underwater fistfight for them? Maybe just do the ‘going down an escalator’ or ‘running man’ in front of them? Pretend to guide the sub like a taxiing airplane? Good clean fun, from a safe yet visible distance, of course.

Anyways, we commenced our dive. He had warned me that the visibility was bad, but this wasn’t a deterrent for me. Having done much of my past diving in Monterey Bay, I know the trade-off that poor visibility can often provide: it usually means high water nutrients and so high density of living things. This was indeed the case in the waters of Jeju. We saw a spectacular array of different types of marine algae species, a huge diversity of soft corals, highly curious fish, and many of the invertebrates that I was more familiar with on the other side of the Pacific. The water was a bit chilly at our deepest point of 90 feet but mostly felt refreshing. My GoPro worked flawlessly (and the red filter helped, given the depth and visibility). I have many more photos and videos on my Instagram.

Some of the array of algae species seen in the waters of Jeju.

The diversity of soft corals was incredible!

At our deepest point, we heard some loud clanking. My buddy gestured “boat” to me, indicating the presence of the submarine. We then saw four bright lights flash at us (if you’re a Star Trek TNG fan…you know) through the murky water. Oh, the possibilities! Now this is where our communication truly came shining through. I timidly gestured that we swim toward the submarine, paired with a slight shoulder shrug. My buddy seemed to, for a fleeting moment, consider this. But then, much like a parent whose child has just spotted the candy aisle in a store, he shook his head and gently steered my elbow, pointing us in the opposite direction.

This made me giggle, almost to where I took water into my regulator.

All in all, a truly wonderful afternoon of SCUBA diving. I was grateful for this underwater experience, knowing that the next day I would learn to experience the sea in a very different way. Of course, I have experienced freediving and snorkeling countless times in the past. But this would be different. Learning from the haenyeo, I would be regarding the ocean in a highly specific way that was new to me. As a source of livelihood and nourishment, as a profession, perhaps in the way any fisherman/fisherwoman might, but with the added element of physical exertion and control of one’s body.

The morning before haenyeo camp, I enjoyed an iced coffee and yogurt at one of my favorite spots to sit and reflect. In the harbor behind me were several diving haenyeo. I continued reading a short book about them that I had bought some time ago (Sisters at Sea by Anne Hilty). In the book, Hilty emphasized how highly structured haenyeo society is with respect to rules about who dives when, where, and for how long. This has been the case for generations but is more so the case now since Jeju haenyeo attained their UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity designation. This is out of environmental sustainability first and foremost, but also to ensure that when the oldest, most experienced haenyeo retire, they will continue to be supported by the collective. I became intensely eager to know what some of those oldest haenyeo have seen, and what they think of the world now compared to when they first started diving.

My breakfast, a haenyeo statue, a haenyeo book, and haenyeo in the harbor (though you can’t spot them in this photo).

Haenyeo camp was an absolute dream. I met up with my group of other “campers”: 4 other women, all in their 20’s and 30’s, and just as eager to learn the ways of the haenyeo as I was. We gathered at a homestay run by a married haenyeo couple - a man and a woman. Yes, a haenyeo man! Something I thought was, by definition, impossible (haenyeo literally means “sea woman” in Korean). Turns out there are some (though very, very few) male haeneyo; of the 1500 active haenyeo, there are 11 male haenyeo, known as “haenan”, on Jeju. I suggested the nickname “haen-bro” for the male haenyeo, but alas my attempt at wit was very lost in translation, except to the English speakers in the group. Our haenan was a wonderful host, and couldn’t be more proud of his very experienced haenyeo wife (who sadly couldn’t join us due to an injury; she had to be in Seoul).

We had our first haenyeo dive with a young haenyeo who is also a SCUBA instructor. She, like most other haenyeo on Jeju, came to the island and trained at a haenyeo school; she was not born of a haenyeo mother. Nor would being a haenyeo be her primary job, as it is not lucrative enough. Most young haenyeo do so part-time, and do so for the passion of the work, the cultural significance, the female empowerment, and the sense of sisterhood, she and another young haenyeo woman explained. On our dive, we had some practice shells to retrieve from the bottom that were painted bright colors (there are rules about tourists taking living things from the sea). We had a lot of fun with this game!

We are haenyeo camp trainees! With our instructor, a real haenyeo (left). We are in a truck with our tewaks (the big orange floats with nets), on the way back from our dive.

The rest of the day consisted of shopping for and cooking an absolutely incredible fresh and traditional Jeju dinner. Our host took us through a market to pick up ingredients and taught us a cooking class, including how to prepare abalone. This process took a LONG time, not because it takes a long time to make delicious Jeju food, but because apparently we were very, very bad at chopping things (according to our host). It felt like we were on a cooking competition show at times, but we got through, teary-eyed from the onions, and it was entirely worth it in the end. In the dining space at the homestay, they also have a beautiful display of traditional haenyeo gear, attire, and artifacts. We learned of a rapid progression in haenyeo technology, for example, when neoprene and styrofoam were invented.

Traditional Jeju dinner. I actually made this! Abalone porridge, tofu and seaweed salad, and grilled abalone with vegetables.

Traditional haenyeo attire and equipment prior to the 1970’s.

The next day, we got to hone our skills somewhat with another dive. Everyone felt more comfortable in the water the second time around. It was wonderful to sometimes just hang on to my tewak and float for a bit, sometimes chatting with my “fellow haenyeo”, and wondering what generations of Jeju women would talk about when they floated together in the 3-4 hours each day spent at sea.

Our group of haenyeo trainees with our tewaks, ready to take on the sea.

What was especially profound followed our final dive: a lunch spent visiting with five haenyeo elders. These women were in their sixties to eighties in age and agreed to visit with us for about 40 minutes. I had many, many questions, but they speak zero English, and their Korean has a strong Jeju accent, so some of my Korean-speaking classmates even struggled to understand them. With the help of our intrepid coordinator Soyoung, some translation was possible. They told us how they became haenyeo when they were 9, 15, or 20 years old. One woman travelled to Japan for a period of time to be a haenyeo there. They all said that the environment is the single biggest thing that has changed: less catch, less wildlife, warmer waters. This is, of course, unsurprising. They had a kind of unique beauty about them, weathered by the sea and entirely part of it. I asked them if they could do diving in any other waters in the world, where would they go? They all replied: nope.

Our haenyeo group (standing) with our haenan host (right) and the five elder haenyeos (seated).

As I leave Jeju, I am immensely grateful for every second of my time on this island. I will absolutely return one day, hopefully with Jack, as I think he would have so much to learn and gain from it. The island charmed me in so many ways, and I learned more than I have yet fully processed. I came across a poem by a young Korean poet named Park Joon (this was in the Korean Air inflight magazine I was browsing through on my flight from Jeju to Seoul), and it just felt apropos:

By Park Joon

And now, I’m off to Zanzibar.