Bush gods

Cutting through a parking lot after a morning run, I see a woman praying to a car.

Korea is largely Christian but with a background of Buddhist beliefs, and possibly some older beliefs.  There are loads of temples and people visit them on the lunar new year. They also visit them in exam season to pray for, or to pay a professional prayer to pray for, good scores on entrance exams.  

And the older people walk about praying to every old rock and statue around.  

As I get closer, I see that the woman is not praying to a car, but to a bush.  And as I get closer, I see that there is a big rock under the bush.  

"Sorry to bother you," I say, curiosity getting the best of me.  "Are you praying to the bush, or the rock."    

"I'm praying through the rock," she clarifies, "to the god of hiding."

"There's a god of hiding?"

"This is the hermit kingdom."

"Still?" I ask. I don't understand her answer. I have to look 은둔 up later.  But I know kingdom, and I know Korea is no longer a kingdom.

"The gods are still listening."

"If it is not to forward, might I ask what you are praying for?"

"The ..." she gestures to the side, her words trailing off.  I look into the bushes, there is nothing, and when I look back, she is gone.