For Flavia

 

Recently I became aware of my father's journals written during his time in the British army.  I was surprised to find that, at the age of 19, he was shipped out to Kuala Lumpur as an officer in what was called the Malayan Emergency. Even more surprising was the fact that he wrote a journal for every day of the year he was there.  He did confess to writing 'fingerposts' daily and then expanding the journal entry for that day when he had more time. 

My father, John Taylor, never discussed his army experience to us growing up.  I knew nothing of his time in Malaya until I read the journals. It turns out that his role was mainly a clerical one: making purchases for the men, paying bills and balancing accounts. However, he wrote about every detail of the daily activities and described everything he saw, including the butterflies and birds. I do not know why the journals are dedicated "For Flavia", but can only imagine Flavia encouraged him to write.  

By the time he started his third notebook, now ten months in, he started to question the need to continue. This is how it begins:

Tuesday, March 18th (1952). Embarking on my third volume of memoirs, I am still uncertain whether it is a moment more fitting for elation or melancholy.  Elation for my constancy or melancholy that I am now a manifest martyr to the daily routine of the written word. Amongst these doubts however, my pleasure in these little jottings is not unprofound.  It is probably unnecessary to remark that I am writing many days in arrears and the fingerposts on my slip are embodied in six words: 'Rain and idleness, chess and frustration'.  Of chess I remember a closely contested encounter with Dickie in which the balance was finally tipped by his superior weight of pawns. I have now lost three but this was the closest of them all and for a considerable space of time I had a knight and bishop pitted against his castle and at one juncture it seemed that I must win.  I am full of confidence for the fourth encounter. 'Frustration' beats me entirely, but may reflect on my growing propensity for idleness; inability to work and my now manifest atrophy of book reading. 'The rain', it raineth everyday; and 'idleness'; how can I expatiate on that when my diary is nearly a whole week stale?

Evidently there was quite a bit of downtime.  And throughout, I find my father trying to come to terms with the British army's presence in Malaya. I have to remember that he had only just left school, and was now in an ambiguous battle where there was no clear enemy. The practice of writing helped to make sense of it all, especially when attempting to explain it to someone so far removed. I believe this was a defining time for my father, as he later went on to dedicate his talents to literacy in southern Brazil, and learned how to bridge the gap between cultures.  He continued to keep a bird diary throughout his life, and was a regular letter writer. During my four years of college, without telephone or internet for communication, my

dad wrote a letter each week describing the happenings at home. I loved those letters... and swore that one day I would publish them as a book. They kept me connected to home and reminded me that I was always in my father's thoughts. My father wrote primarily because he loved writing, but in me he also found an appreciative audience.

Writing has become a source of comfort and enjoyment for me as well. I write to understand, to remember and to overcome feelings of inadequacy. I enjoy many other activities, those that tap into my creativity, but writing my blog has become my favorite. I completely understand that I don't have a "Flavia" to write for, and most people of Facebook don't have time to read my jottings... but I am my father's daughter.  

My father's Journal, for interest:  Journal 1 Shipping Out                   Journal 1 Malaya

Lava Rock and Tangerine Tea

Visiting Jeju for the first time? Having the ability to drive ourselves, using the local navigation app, we looked online for places to go.  Our first destination is a nature preserve on the south side of the island that advertises views of volcanic cliffs. It is named for 'jusangjeolli', the Korean term for columnar jointing. We did not take into consideration the weekend traffic or, as it turned out, the crowds of tourists. The parking lot was full, with lots of buses and vans unloading visitors. We stood in line to pay the small entrance fee, and browsed the shops selling tangerine juice and tangerine themed souvenirs. The walkways took us to viewing points where we had to wait our turn to pose and photograph the hexagonal shaped columns of black rock. 

I wondered if there was anything else to see or do, but noticed the crowds heading towards the exit.  Back outside we noticed a sign with what we assumed were prices for parking, but even Google translate didn't help us understand where and how to pay. I suggested we just drive off without paying, but Jon wanted more information.  He looked around for someone to ask.  Most of the other tourists appeared to be Korean, and so probably wouldn't speak English, but there were a couple of foreigners like us.  When approached, they explained that they were here on a tour and couldn't help us with parking.  Driving out we were stopped at the gate and fortunately we had some ₩won and were able to get by without breaking the law. 

We continued into town for lunch, but again found ourselves fighting traffic and confusing road signs. Having been warned that traffic cameras will capture any infractions and ticket us, we were nervous to get caught speeding, running a STOP sign or illegal parking. One of the most confusing signs was the crossed out arrow painted on the road. So we drove around and left the car in a lot below the entrance to the World Cup Stadium.  This is an impressive building that now houses a cinema, jogging track and water park.  We are hoping to watch a soccer game there before the season ends in November. 

Continuing our sightseeing, we stopped at the Tea Museum not far from where we live. As I expected, this was a tourist trap.  The surrounding tea plantation was beautifully clipped and ready for visitors to pose, similar to how one might take selfies among the grapevines at a winery. The 'museum' as actually a large gift shop, cafe and restaurant. We tasted the peanut flavored green tea and macha before purchasing a few tangerine teabags.  Another building sold beauty products and soap made from tea. This opened up into a delightful cafe where one can sit and sip tea overlooking the green tea fields. Everything screamed "social media post".  The teapots and cups were made of glass so the light shone through the golden liquid inside. Dainty tea flavored biscuits and cakes produce an upscale treat that gives you a taste of the local citrus fruit. 

Our 'high tea' at the tea plantation contrasted greatly with our lunch at the McDonalds in town.  Although the fast food restaurant is not Korean food, it showed me more of authentic Korean culture than the tourist spots. Like almost all other restaurants here, there is no one to take your order. At fast food places you use the big screens to order and pay, where in sit down places there is a smaller screen at the table. I am able to practice my Korean alphabet sounds by reading the menu; 맥도날드 (pronounced maek-doo-nal-deu); I find they serve crab cake wraps and burgers with Korean pepper cream cheese. Every restaurant has at least one umbrella stand full of umbrellas by the door. McDonalds has a machine that wraps your wet umbrella in plastic so you can carry it inside without dripping.  We took our food upstairs and discovered that a small boys was following us. He believed we had dropped a US dime, and wanted to make sure he returned it to us. His kind consideration was touching. 

In my haste to get to know what Jeju wants foreigners to appreciate: the scenic coast, the tea and tangerine plantations, the traditional fishing industry and the beaches; I was overlooking what I need to appreciate a life here: learning the language, the customs and food.  All of South Korea relies heavily on technology in service industries; there is no need to speak the language in order to make a purchase; just use the app. But there is a need to speak the language in order to connect with those who live here and can introduce us to so much more on this island. 

산방산 Mountain with a Cave

 

In my last post I questioned the abundance of wind on Jeju island... I no longer do. Typhoon like winds have blown in from the south bringing cooler temperatures and a little rain. It is no longer beach weather, but we went to the beach and watched the waves crash against the black volcanic rocks. The wind threatened to blow me down! 

I was anxious to see a bit of Jeju, and we started at the pretty coastal village of Sagye, or 사계리. Along with its dramatic coastline, Sanbangsan mountain towers above with a Buddhist temple carved into the side of the sheer rock. First we had to navigate signs to find parking. The spaces nearest to the temple entrance were full, and private. Luckily we saw a sign for public parking lower down and Jon expertly backed into a narrow space. This seems to be a characteristic of Jeju parking, just enough space for the car and none left over for opening the doors. 

Legend has it that this stone mountain was at one time the top of Hallasan, the main volcano that makes up the island. During a fit of fury, the Halla spirit ripped the mountain's peak off, and threw it. It landed on the coast, forming a new mountain call Sanbangsan, without a crater at its summit. However, geological posters at the site illustrate that in fact it is made of thick sticky lava being forced up and cooling, similar to toothpaste being squeezed out of a tube.

The large golden statue of Buddha was clearly visible from the road, and we started up the stairs towards it, past small shops selling bags of rice. These were clearing labeled in English as offerings. You could purchase water or candles for ￦10,000, or an annual wish lantern at ￦50,000.  A much cheaper option was to buy a golden wish leaf, write on your desire/prayer, and pin it up on the fence going up the

Path of Wish Fulfillment. Climbing this path, which was actually a steep stairway, we came across other wish makers ringing a large bell three times in order to help the wish come true.  

The path leads up the side of the mountain to a cave which is a holy place for the female deity of the mountain.  The water that drips from the ceiling of the cave is said to be the goddess's tears as she mourns the loss of her love. Another sign reminds us that this is a good place to pray for family and even for giving birth to a great commander. The climb took us through a thick growth of bamboo and hackberry trees, with beautiful butterflies so big I thought at first they were bats. There are various lookout spots where we could look down the coast and out to the waves smashing into the various small rocky islands. 

Several other elements of the temple had to be explained to me: like how the golden prayer wheels were purely ornamental and should not be spun; or how the 500 squat stone statues were actually all saints, named and carved with characteristic traits; and the hundreds of miniature mint-green statues were placed by worshippers to achiever spiritual merit points.  No explanation was really needed in order to appreciate the lovely setting: plants, statues and colorful painted walls and roof eaves. I recognized the Chinese zodiac animals in more that one display.  I started to use my Google lens to translate and found the message: "May everyday be a good day." This and all the fun statues of cute smiling Buddhas did give a light hearted to the place.  Watch this to see what I mean.

A statue of a golden warrior turned out to be a monk who is in the Guinness Book of Records for having the most doctorates (126), most books written (1042), and most calligraphy sheets (512,000). I know this because his plaque was translated into English. On the whole, not everything was written in Korean, but some was Japanese, and some Chinese.  In our introduction to Korean culture classes we had learned that the left-facing swastika is a Buddhist symbol, and sure enough, I found one emblazoned on a rock.  The Korean here translated to the teaching on karma: "If you want to know your past, look at what you are receiving now; if you want to know your future, look at what you are doing now."  I will need to meditate on that one for a while. 

Samdado: the 3 Abundances

The old nickname for Jeju is Samdado, which translates to an island (do) of three (sam) abundances (da). They were introduced to me as: the three w's you will find on Jeju are wind, walls & women.  The first I am yet to see.  Since I arrived on the island, the weather has been hot, humid and stifling. We recently went for a sunset hike which should have been the cool of the day. Even at 6pm, the oppressive heat threatened the event. The awaiting van was like an oven and we were all drenched in sweat before arriving at the water's edge. And then we were met with not a breath of wind from the sea. 

Our first stop was a fishing village of Gosan-ri, where some of the squid boats return with their catch. The squid were all hung out to dry along the road side, and some vendors were selling the dried squid on carts and in small kiosks. I had noticed the boats out on the ocean at night, with their bright lights attracting their catch. Now I had a chance to see them up close and observe the oversized and powerful lightbulbs strung up from bow to stern.  Around sun set they all ventured out on the glassy sea and took up positions within sight of the shore.  Nearby a pod of dolphins played, and seemed in no hurry to get anywhere.  So where are these prevailing winds that the island experiences year round? 

There is no beach near the fishing port and it was quite impossible to reach the water to cool off since the shore was made up of volcanic rocks.  The whole island is one extinct volcano, and water's edge shows mounds and stacks of black hardened lava. This basalt rock is everywhere, carved into statues, used as paving stones, and piled up to make the dry-stone walls that border the fields. The soil is fertile but full of boulders. So the farmers clear their fields of rock and pile it up along the road side.  Our ride travels down small roads between the black walls of rough hewn rock. 

The traditional 3 abundances actually refer to 'stone or rock', rather than walls, which I realize doesn't start with a 'w', but includes all the other ways stone is used on the island.  Several excavations have unearthed stone burial sites and homes. More famous are the dolhareubang or stone grandfathers.  These squat stone men sit at the gate and guard the property. We were met at the airport by a pair dressed in swim wear and goggles, and I have started to spot others dotted around, often sporting something that applies to the business it stands guarding. 

If I hadn't just finished reading Han Kang's "We Do Not Part" then I would have scratched my head over the abundance of women on the island. At one time the women far outnumbered the men due to the men leaving the island for fishing and war. During the war time, men were conscripted or imprisoned, depending on the time. During the 50's many young men took to hiding in the various caves of the island to evade being captured and slaughtered by the secret police. After the WW2, right wing groups were insistent that Jeju was harboring communists and helped wipe out a large part of the island's population. Many men joined the navy just to avoid becoming a part of this violence against their homeland.  

Now the men are back, many still fishing or taking advantage of the government initiatives of small market gardening on the island. These small farms, covered in plastic film, can produce up to 3 harvests a year, by growing year round tropical fruits and vegetables. It is now August, but we see the fields being harvested and prepared for another planting.  So far I have enjoyed the locally grown bananas, tangerines, cherries, tomatoes and cucumber. 

My initial experience of the island has been dominated by three s's: sun, school & shopping. We live on a school campus that is part of Education City, alongside three other large international schools. The place is quiet because students and their families have not yet moved back for the start of the school year. I only venture out in the heat when I need to go shopping or eat.  I look forward to seeing how thing change as the weather cools and our neighborhood comes alive.