Taiwan, or There and Back Again

And there's a fake part of me

that comes off so you can read

I was made by the Taiwanese in Taiwan

but they don't like that much

because it's called Formosa

-Matthew Good Band, The Workers Sing A Song Of Mass Production

Taiwan is a place that, as far as I can remember for most of my life, if I thought about it at all, I associated with the Made in Taiwan stamps on the bottom of a dish or plastic toy here and there.  Naturally most people with that kind of simple indoctrination to the word "Taiwan" are going to envision it as a place of sprawling factories, maybe interspersed with sweat shops, all wreathed in the heavy clouds of smog synonymous in our collective consciousness with the parts of the world who make all the odds and ends for the parts that don't.  I can't speak for the past, but modern Taiwan, at least, does not fit that picture.

Taiwan was formerly known as Formosa, as a result of Portuguese sailors terming it llha Formosa, or "beautiful island" after first catching sight of it in 1544.  Their ocean-weary eyes clearly didn't betray them, as beautiful it is.  After rapid industrialisation ("Made in Taiwan") and economic growth in the latter half the 20th century, Taiwan has now become an advanced industrial economy.  Unlike its big brother to the east (and southeast and northeast) across the Taiwan straight, Taiwan is a multi-party democracy, though still officially  known at the Republic of China, or ROC (as opposed to the People's Republic of China, or PRC, as the PRC refuses to recognise Taiwan as a sovereign state).

Taiwan was mostly inhabited by the Taiwanese indigenous peoples when the dutch showed up, after which Chinese began immigrating to the island, the descendants of which now form the majority of its populace.

Now that you know the same scant amount about the country's history as I do, let's get down to business on the trip itself.

Autumn in Gyeongju

A trip to the city of Gyeongju, as an extracurricular field trip with students from Daechang high school and various teachers, gave me an opportunity to capture some of vibrant fall foliage around Cheongmachong (천마총) royal tomb area and the Bulguksa (불국사) temple complex.  Gyeongju was the capital of Silla (the united three kingdoms) during the long dynasty of the same name, from BC 57 to AD 935.  The city is filled with historical relics from that period.  It was a fortuitous weekend to have gone, as the leaves have reached their peak in color there and will soon be on the ground, as most already are here in Yecheon a bit further north.  In particular the maples were out in force, most spectacular in their range between fiery oranges and blood reds.

The Dokdo Trip

Thursday, May 24th:  by 7:30am I was already on a bus to the coastal city of Pohang.  From there myself and a group of other teachers selected for the annual Dokdo trip boarded a boat bound for the island of Ulleungo in the East Sea (Sea of Japan).  The purpose of the trip, organized by the Gyeonsangbuk-do Provincial Office of Education (POE), was somewhat twofold.  For one, it was an opportunity to present lectures and promote discussion on the history and issues of international law involving the twin islets (dongdo and seodo) known jointly as Dokdo, and it was a series of photo-ops to document this large presence of foreigners learning about the issue and setting foot on the island (or at least the concrete dock we were limited to).  Case in point, I was interviewed by a TV crew about my thoughts on the island a few moments after disembarking from the ferry.

In brief, the issue surrounding Dokdo is that both Korea and Japan have both long laid claim to it, still without resolution (it sits in the ocean 87.4 km southeast of Ulleungdo and 157.5km northwest of Japan's Oki island, off the coast of Shimane prefecture).  To this end Korea has built some facilities to house and support a fisherman and his wife, as well as about a dozen or so police officers stationed on the island.  South Korea is desperate to raise international awareness of the issue, as it has been largely ignored outside of the country and certain groups within the Japanese government, which is the main reason efforts are undertaken each year to bring teachers currently serving with EPIK to Ulleungdo and Dokdo.  In terms of a legal battle, Korea is not confident in going with Japan to trial in international courts over the dispute because they (apparently) feel that Japan, as a larger and more powerful country, will hold more sway in such an arena.  The risk of losing Dokdo is absolutely unacceptable to most Koreans.

Springtime in Korea; Trekking and Tromping

Cherry blossoms near the riverside in Yecheon

Ji Hye and I take an afternoon trip out to the small farming village she grew up in.  It's small and quiet enough that when we arrived an old woman near the taxi we were getting out of cried: "oh, looks like we've got a special guest here today!"

A statue of King Sejong, who created the Korean alphabet, Hangul, sits in front of the now-closed elementary school.  Children from the village now attend classes in a more populous area.

The old slide evidently still sees lots of use from children in the village.  These girls are all sisters.

Cherry Blossoms and Plesiosaurs

A trip to Jinhae this weekend (April 7th-8th)  on the RoK's southern coast, revealed a big white explosion of Spring.  Jinhae is the cherry blossom capital of South Korea, and as you'll see from the pictures, it didn't disappoint.

Cherry blossom blooming tends to be quite regular each year here in East Asia, and the beginning of the season can usually be predicted down to within a few days.  In both Japan and Korea, the blossoms generally bloom first at the most southern areas of the country (there are exceptions in the case of micro-climates), and then sweep up through the country over a period of weeks.  In Japan this is called the sakura zensen (桜前線) or "cherry blossom front."

Cherry blossoms are always the surest sign that spring has come to the land once again.  It was a weekend of warm weather and flawless blue skies.  As usual there was nary a downtrodden face to be seen beneath this part of the world's most beautiful, yet fleeting, confirmation of new life and the passage of the seasons.

Hitting The Culinary Wall

By now I think I've eaten a lot of what many would consider to be questionable/strange foods.  I'm willing to try new eatables when the opportunity presents itself: jellyfish (dried and chewy, tastes like what jellyfish are made of: virtually nothing), squid ink pasta (inoffensive, pleasantly salty), scorpions (tasty, with a crunch that can't be beat), grasshoppers (sweet n' crispy), silk worm larva (earthy and soft without being gooey), raw horse meat (you'd hardly know it wasn't sashimi),  fugu (tender, fresh, legitimately considered beforehand that it might be my last meal), and so on.  There are some things I won't eat, such as shark fin soup (on the menu at a restaurant in China one night) or things that are able to consciously look around the inside of my mouth before I chew.  This post concerns the latter.

Gangwon-do: Chiaksan National Park (치악산국립 공원)

After departing Sokcho we were bound for Pyeongchang, future home of the 2018 Winter Olympics.  Pyeongchang's claim to fame is a large ski resort called Alpensia where the Games will be hosted six years from now (Pyeongchang was finally awarded the games, to much elation, after two unsuccessful bids in the past).  We weren't planning on skiing on this trip (though I have gone twice in Gangwon-do this winter at a great resort called Vivaldi), so we didn't so much as glimpse Alpensia on our long trip down the expressway cutting Southwestwards towards Pyeongchang town itself.

Pyeongchang town's river

Actually I should be clear: we didn't do very much research on Pyeongchang (my draw to it initially was simply the fact that it had been recently awarded the Olympics), and thought that the capital of the county was actually a  city.  We were a little bit surprised when our bus pulled in to a very small station with no buildings insight, by a sign indicating that we'd indeed reached our destination.  We found ourselves in a very small place.  A few minutes later another foreign teacher approached us on the street and informed us we were on the main drag.  Then and there Brent and I decided that we'd stay for a little while longer and see what we could and then make for the city of Wonju in the evening.  We ended up crossing the town's resident river and climbing a hiking path up the hill on the other side.  At the top we were able to take it the whole city which was actually quite a lovely, rustic looking place nestled in the hills.  Korean totem poles, called Jangseung (장승), carved traditionally as village guardians, abounded along the river front.