If you are reading this then the feared prophesized
apocalypse of Dec. 21, 2012, has quietly passed. Like many of these
failed doomsday prophecies it will be remembered with some degree of
amusement. But did you know this year the traditional Korean holiday of
“Dongji” was also on Dec. 21? People eat “patjuk,” or red bean porridge,
on Dongji in the hope of keeping away diseases and bad luck.It
is not clear how far back this practice goes but up until the late
Joseon period many Koreans placed red bean paste on the gates of their
homes in hopes of warding off the malevolent spirit of Gong-gong’s son.
Of course, this story has many variations.In 1900, James Scarth Gale described Gong-gong as a Chinese man who lived in 2832 B.C. This was during the mythological reign of Fu Xi, the first Chinese ruler. According to one legend, Fu Xi and his sister Nuwa were the only survivors of a great flood and out of loneliness begged the Emperor of the Heaven to grant them companionship. To aid the Emperor of the Heaven, Fu Xi and Nuwa made humans out of clay and the gods breathed life into them. (An interesting variation claims that it was Nuwa who created humans but did so on the seventh day — the previous days, in order, she created chickens, dogs, sheep, pigs, cows and horses).
One of the humans created was Gong-gong. According to Gale, “In one of his playful moods (Gong-gong) broke the pillars of heaven and destroyed the props of earth.” Gong-gong’s son soon died and became “a malignant and hurtful devil” that could only be kept at bay by red bean paste and porridge because he abhorred them while he had lived.
Other sources claim that Gong-gong lived during the reign of Ta Yao, another legendary Chinese king who ruled from 2333 B.C. to about 2234 B.C. Gong-gong’s son may have been an executioner and caused misery amongst the people — even after his death which was said to have taken place on this day. His malevolent spirit allegedly spread epidemics and could only be warded off by eating red bean paste — a food that he despised while alive.
Another legend as to why Koreans eat patjuk dates back to the Silla period (57 B.C. — 935 A.D.) when a young scholar was often visited at night by a man who would advise him of household and farming duties and then leave before sunrise.
His advice was always good but as time passed the young scholar grew thinner and weaker. A monk, concerned about the young scholar’s health, warned him that his guest was not to be trusted and suggested that the scholar splatter the guest with blood from a white horse. He did as he was instructed and was startled to discover that the man transformed into a goblin that vowed vengeance and fled.
But
each year on Dongji, the man would reappear and the scholar was advised
to spread the patjuk around the house instead of the horse’s blood as
the color red was believed to be able to keep evil spirits away.
Apparently it worked and this is why Koreans eat patjuk.Whatever the traditional reasoning behind patjuk may be, a more practical one for modern times is that it tastes good and wards off the chill of winter.
Credits:
Robert Neff is a contributing writer for K.T.
