The cold light of winter shines down on a hillside temple in Seoul. It gleams on the billowing red, yellow and blue robes of shaman Jeong Soon-deok, as she twirls in circles. It glints off the ceremonial knives, bells and fans she waves through the air.
The man standing before her in simple white robes is her newest initiate. Jeong's aim is to throw open the doors of the spirit world so the gods of sun, moon and mountains and the spirits of ancestors and children may enter him.
An estimated 50,000 shamanic ceremonies are held each year in greater Seoul, according to Kim Dong-kyu, a scholar of religion at Sogang University. Some South Koreans see shamanism — which predates Buddhism and Christianity — as a vibrant cultural treasure, while others consider it a primitive embarrassment to their modern, cosmopolitan society. But its appeal endures — in North Korea, too, where it is illegal.
Shamanic rituals are intended to bring good harvests, help villages or communities prosper and assist the souls of the dead in their journey into the afterlife. Shamans tell fortunes based on the Chinese calendar system and communication with the spirit world. They help clients choose names for children, serve as matchmakers and pick auspicious dates for weddings, moving house or opening businesses.