Tongyeong & the Restless

I rose early after a good night’s sleep in Tongyeong. Out on the streets, an elderly gentleman guided me to a set of staircases leading up to Dongpirang Wall Painting Village,  a decaying neighbourhood that was revitalized thanks to painters who had decorated the walls of the houses in the alleys with charming murals. However cold and unfriendly the people of Seoul may be, it is always balanced out by the kindness and warmth of the Koreans whom I encounter in the rest of the nation.

The artsy neighbourhood was situated on a hill. I made my way down using an alternate path and kept walking until I arrived at the Nammangsan Sculpture Park. Every point of interest in Tongyeong conveniently fell within a 15-20 minute walk of each other in the town of 100,000. The sculptures stared out into the distance where the dark clouds seemed to be clearing up, indicating that it was time for me to catch a boat to one of the outlying islands.

I sauntered to the ferry terminal. I asked a ticket seller what the best island to visit was and bought a ticket there. I sat on the open air deck as the boat made its way out to sea, the waters choppy and the sky again downcast. With the youth of Korea busy staring at their smartphones and getting their faces carved by the medicine man, I was surrounded by the same colourfully dressed members of the 40+ club who I run into when hiking Korea’s mountains. They generously offered me several cups of the national rice wine soju and some baby tomatoes.

After I had imbibed adequately I headed inside to the covered section of the ship, which was just a floating model of a traditional Korean home. There were no seats or tables. Shoes had to be removed at the entrance, and passengers were either sitting or lying on the floor. Many were fast asleep. As the sea churned, the boat swayed from side to side. I used my backpack as a makeshift pillow and indulged in a light nap, occasionally sliding a few inches in either direction as the currents dictated.

As we passed several small islands and ventured further out into open waters, the weather began to clear up. The sun reared its head among the clouds, emerging victorious just as we reached our destination - Somaemuldo. A small town had formed on the hillside beside the pier. On each side were jagged rocks and ancient trees. I climbed a cliff to get a quality view of the return passengers boarding the vessel I had just disembarked.

I had about four hours to explore the island before the last ferry of the day would set sail back to the mainland. After completing a small looping trail on one side of the island and stopping for a quick lunch, I decided to hike to the top of Somaemuldo to get a glimpse of the lighthouse constructed by Japanese colonialists on the adjacent island of Haegeumdo. A small land bridge is available to reach the tiny island from Somaemuldo when the tide runs low. At the top of a mountainous ridge, I reclined on the bare rock and took in the view. The fog cooperated occasionally to give me brief glimpses of Haegeumdo before covering it up again.

According to my rough calculations, I had about 45-60 minutes to spare before the last ferry departed for Tongyeong when I arrived back at the township by the docks. I entered a coffee shop perched on the hillside, ordered a cup of coffee from a rare natural Korean beauty manning the counter, picked a seat with a direct view of the port, and plugged in my phone charger. Just as I was getting settled, the coffee girl approached me with a panic stricken look on her face.

Our communication to this point had been silent and continued thusly. She pointed at the boat and urgently ushered me to go aboard. I pointed at the time and indicated that I still had a good half an hour before the final boat departed. She shook her head, unplugged my phone, handed me my coffee, and made a running motion. I could not ignore her heartfelt concern for my well-being so I waved her a long goodbye (which was reciprocated) and hurried to the ferry, which in fact was the final one of the day and soon set sail back towards Tongyeong.

Tunnelling to Tongyeong

It took several bus rides to voyage cross country from the tea fields of Boseong to reach the picturesque coastal town of Tongyeong. I was to transfer buses at Masan, but at the bus terminal I could not find any onward transport to the port town. There was another bus terminal in town and the lady at the ticket counter explained this to me using only her fingers as a mode of communication. Luckily I am as adept at adapting to unforeseen situations as local surgeons are at adding double eyelids to K-girls, so I was soon on my way to Tongyeong.

After I reached the terminal at Tongyeong, I took a local bus to an area that seemed somewhat near to were I wanted to be - Asia's first submarine tunnel. Opened to the public in 1932 after 16 months of construction, the Tongyeong Undersea Tunnel is for pedestrians only. A sign at the entrance proclaims it to be the "Dragon Gate Connecting the Mainland to the Island". I strolled through the tunnel nonchalantly. A group of old women saw me wandering about. I asked how to get to a certain temple after I got out, and one of the grannies who was heading that way dragged me along and deposited me in front of it.

I wandered around the harbour area for a while soaking up the atmosphere and scenery before taking a taxi to Hallyeohaesang National Park, known to have the best views of the town and its outlying islands to catch the sunset. The panoramic view was noteworthy, but there were too many couples about. A noticeboard warned "Garbage gets his back" and "Let's make national parks do not smoke". Bus service was infrequent so I was trapped atop the mountain park for about 2 hours before a bus showed up to deposit me back in the city proper. By now darkness had set in and I needed both dinner and a place to sleep.

I walked a bit till I came upon a fish market that was still abuzz with activity despite the late hour. I found the busiest restaurant and settled myself on the floor after taking my shoes off at the entrance, as is customary in traditional Korean restaurants. I placed my order and enjoyed some delicious saengseon hoe (aka Korean fish sashimi), served to me by a Tongyeong belle. The older staff members nudged her towards me but she was all business, the mischievous twinkle in her eye only visible as I bid farewell after finishing my meal.

By now it had started raining heavily, so I wanted to secure accommodation  before I was drenched further. I walked into the centre of the town, near the harbour where a model of Korea’s famed turtle ship used to thwart Japanese invaders was docked. In the back alleys I found a motel with vacancy after a few failed attempts. The old woman at the front desk threw me a key and told me to go upstairs, while she finished watching her TV show. She showed up several minutes later, knocking on the door and asking for the night's rent as if she were the landlord and I an unreliable tenant. After she left, I unrolled the mattress onto the heated floor and fell into a deep slumber.

2 of 3

Two of my friends in Vancouver were planning a get together.

Friend #1: You bring the food. I'll bring the drinks. Arnab brings the girls.

Friend #2: Excellent... so we will have plenty to eat and drink.

A Day by Manila Bay

After a particularly interesting cab ride, I made my way up to my hostel. There were two Israeli girls in my room who had also recently arrived. They had just wrapped up their mandatory tour of duty with the Israeli defence service and were beginning a 3 month journey across Southeast Asia before heading to university. Israel, like South Korea, is surrounded by enemies on all sides and utilizes conscript soldiers.

Israeli youth over 18 are required to serve in the military. Guys have to serve for at least 3 years, while gals have a minimum 2 year term. The former soldiers invited me to join them on their exploration of Manila. I was spending a few days in the capital city before jetting off to the island of Palawan to catch up with my Dutch friends, so I headed out with them to get my first taste of a new city and a new country.

There are two modes of mass rail transportation in Manila. We took the MRT to Taft Avenue, and then transferred to the LRT all the way to United Nations station. As we went down the station stairs an elderly Filipino gentleman approached us and cautioned the girls to wear their backpacks in the front, so that no one would have a chance to unzip the bag from behind and empty it of its valuable contents. We would find out how much weight his warnings carried later on as we walked towards nearby Rizal Park. A child appeared to be tying his shoelaces in front of us. Suddenly he leapt up and buzzed past us. One of the girls let out a yelp. Her necklace was gone! Our eyes followed a blur zigzagging through the heavy traffic to the other side of the street and disappearing, never to be seen by us again.

“I thought having a guy around would have kept us safe, but apparently I was mistaken” groused the girl whose neckless had been pilfered. I maintained my silence, but not my dignity. Our spirits soon lifted as we headed into the park, packed with Filipino families celebrating the first day of 2014. We tried a variety of the snacks and drinks being sold at the stalls peppered throughout the length of the park. My favourite was the buko shake, a coconut smoothie designed to beat the heat.

The eponymous Dr. José Protacio Rizal Mercado y Alonso Realonda, or José Rizal in short, was a national hero, scholar, poet, and revolutionary who knew 22 languages and dialects (or about 21 more than the average number known by a Korean). His execution by firing squad on the grounds of the park later named after him ignited the Philippine Revolution against Spain. Kilometre Zero, the point in Manila from where distances are traditionally measured in the Philippines, is also located within the park. The flag of the Philippines proudly waved from atop a massive flagstaff at one end of the park. From there a short walk led us to Manila Bay and a lovely sunset.

*****

It is a useless life that is not consecrated to a great ideal. It is like a stone wasted on the field without becoming a part of any edifice. ~ Jose Rizal

Conversations with Cabbies: Gastronomy

On the first day of 2014 I made my way to the Philippines from South Korea. As I exited the Manila's Ninoy Aquino International Airport I was met with a long snaking lineup at the taxi counter. Not many taxis were around as it was a public holiday. I eventually made my way to the front of the line and caught a cab. The driver immediately engaged me in conversation, a form of verbal interchange I had become unfamiliar with after living in Korea.

Upon inquiry, I told him that I was going to meet up with some friends in the Philippines and travel around. “Did you come here to meet a lady friend. Lots of foreign man come to Philippines because they like our ladies”. I replied in the negative, as my travel buddies were two Dutch men. He let out a loud juicy fart and apologized “Sorry! Gastronomy”.

We also discussed my travel plans, our educational background, career paths, job prospects, and the notorious behaviour of Korean men in the nation. Kopinos (코피노) are the byproduct of illicit liaisons between Korean guys and the Filipinas who these men have either paid or misguided. There are now over ten thousand of these fatherless children scattered across the Philippines. A coalition of mothers has even made their way to Korea to demand child support money from the fathers, who either do not know or do not want to know about their spawn.

The taxi driver also told me he had an ex-Canadian girlfriend who he had met when she had accompanied his sister (who works as a nurse in Canada) on a trip back to the Philippines. They had a long distance relationship for a few months until she dumped him unilaterally. “Why are Canadian girls so mean?” he asked me. I struggled to give an adequate answer, mumbling “I don't know. Are they mean?” and “I’m not sure it’s a trait particular to Canadian girls”. "They are moody like a smoothie!" he exclaimed as we passed a 7-11 convenience store.

The name of my hostel in Manila was Our Awesome Hostel, located in a poor neighbourhood outside the gates of modernity. The cabbie parked outside the entrance, took one look, and immediately declared "This is definitely not awesome".

Urinal Etiquettes

Although I had some ghastly experiences in Chinese toilets, most of my memories are happy ones. I much enjoyed reading the words of wisdom posted above urinals all over China, from the succinct "Closer, easier" to the more verbose "You can enjoy the fresh air after finishing a civilized urinating". I was heartened to see that the Chinese visa processing office in Vancouver maintained the tradition with a similar sign posted at its bathroom facilities.

The urinal etiquette instructed the user to maintain eye contact with the urinal at all times, and not chit chat or look at neighbours while taking a leak. The user generated stream also had to be parallel to the Earth's surface. Physics experiments, particularly those involving parabolic trajectories, were strongly discouraged.

*****

“I just peed in the sink. Why? Because there was already somebody in the bathtub.
” 

― Jarod Kintz

It is Suck

In South Korea, conformity is the name of the game. Anything that deviates from a very limited spectrum of acceptability is scorned, particularly when it comes to matters of appearance and style.

Me: My jacket is very nice.

Korean coworker: No, it is suck.

Zhengzhou - China's Largest Ghost City

With their empty streets and their deserted buildings, ghost towns have always fascinated me . Desolate and decaying constructs leave a physical reminder of glory days that have been swept away by the winds of destiny, disuse, and destruction. Living in Asia provides access to a particular phenomena - that of modern day ghost towns built in anticipation of a demand that may or may not materialize.

Some are worthy experiments in city building while others are entertaining combinations of vanity project and investor folly. China is in the lead with Ordos and Zhengzhou, followed by South Korea's Songdo. India has contributed deserted Lavassa, a holiday resort within driving distance of Mumbai and Pune but with around 0.01% of their population density.

As one of the eight ancient capitals of China, Zhengzhou itself has a long history. Recent archaeological excavations have revealed that it was the first city of the Shang dynasty around 3500 years ago. After visiting several heads of states, my friend Swathish and I made our way to the outskirts of the capital of Henan to visit the Middle Kingdom's largest ghost city - Zhengzhou New District.

Although Zhenghou's urban population base is nearing 9 million, not many of its inhabitants had made it to the New District. Swathish and I wandered through the deserted boulevards undisturbed. 'Caution for tumbling' warned a sign beside a staircase in front of an empty convention center and museum complex. Although mostly unused and uninhabited, the office towers, apartment complexes, and civic spaces showed heavy investment.

Rent is supposedly excessive even though tenants are hard to come by. One area is named Vancouver Square. The ghost cities are a testament to a future that is desired by the powers that be, but not one that is necessarily a reflection on the present day capabilities or desires of the populace.

Unlike Ordos, which is a lengthy highway drive away from its older namesake, new Zhengzhou is a modern, well-planned continuation of inhabited Zhenghzhou, so there is a greater likelihood that it will soon transform into a functioning community.

Apart from the short term gains that are generated by a resource and manpower intensive project like building a city from scratch, the grand vision of Zhengzhou New Distract may yet become a reality as migrants and businesses slowly trickle into a settlement where the infrastructure is already in place to handle an increasingly urban and affluent population.

*****

Civilization is the limitless multiplication of unnecessary necessities. ~ Mark Twain

Colombo's Bat Park

Perhaps one of the stranger sights I witnessed in Colombo, apart from a solitary white woman who expertly used only her hands to devour a meal served on a banana leaf at a traditional Sri Lankan eatery, was a park in the middle of the city filled with hundreds of bats. Multitudes of these webbed mammals were roosting high above me on the branches of several trees clustered in the centre of Viharamahadevi Park on a sunny afternoon. 

I looked up with curiosity, but also frequently down at my feet to establish the path I should follow to avoid an undesired coat of bat guano. Using my powers of probabilistic reasoning to ward of danger, I tiptoed my way around the heavily splotched sections on the ground and maintained a brisk pace to avoid being pelted by any dastardly droppings. 

I was astounded by seeing so many of these creatures of the night out in pure daylight, as usually I only encounter them in caves or other dimly lit locations. I escaped unharmed and later found out that they are fruit bats of the Indian Flying Fox variety, addicted to fruit juice and capable of swallowing pieces of fruit in their entirety. 

Kaziranga - The Land of Rhinos

Kaziranga National Park and Tiger Reserve in Assam is famed for being home to two-thirds of the one-horned rhino population and having the highest ecological density of tigers of any protected area in the world. Elephants, water buffaloes, wild boars, deer, monkeys, turtles, migratory birds, and other wildlife are also present in significant numbers in the 450 square kilometre World Heritage Site. During monsoon season, the park is closed to visitors.

I headed from Guwahati to Kaziranga on an Assam State bus, handing my phone to the driver so the manager of the jungle lodge where I would be spending a few nights at could tell him exactly where to drop me off. I was deposited on the side of the street in the dark and told to wait. Soon after, I saw a light moving towards me from 200 meters away. It solidified into a boy holding a flashlight who guided me to my tent at the nicely maintained Nature Hunt Eco Lodge.

After dinner and some drinks with fellow guests around a campfire, I headed back to my tent. The same boy who had retrieved me from the road ran towards me yelling ‘Leopard! Leopard! Come see!’. I did not have a strong inclination to head in the direction of a leopard, but the boy was particularly enthusiastic so I followed him. He pointed his torch into the trees above and pointed to a civet among the branches. It was a significantly smaller jungle cat than a leopard.

The next day I woke at 530 am to go on an elephant safari. The start point was a half an hour jeep ride away from the lodge. I sat atop the elephant. The giant beast slowly ate its way through the grasslands, stopping at the behest of its mahout whenever rhinos or other wildlife were within breathing distance.

After pulling over at the side of the road on the way back from the jeep safari for a quick halt at a roadside temple, the driver told a story about why he prays for safety to the gods every day. Apparently the week before a rhino had munched on the front wheel of a jeep, then continued up until the windscreen, at which point he tossed the car sideways, flinging the passengers of the vehicle to the nearest hospital. The rhino had also hurt his neck in the incident.

I also heard a story of a tiger attacking a forest ranger within the national park. Another ranger rushed to his defence and shot the tiger, but he was punished. The law states that it is illegal to harm tigers, even for self defence, as Kaziranga is their natural habitat and it is humans that are encroaching on their territory.

In the afternoon I went on 3 hour open air jeep safari, spotting pretty much everything but a tiger. The driver did point out fresh tiger prints on top of the tire tracks of the last jeep that had passed the area, and trees where tigers had left claw marks.  I was surprised to hear that rhinos could achieve speeds of up to 40-45 km/h, similar to the pace K-girls can reach when they detect me in their vicinity. We had a few close calls with charging rhinos and protective mother elephants but the driver was always quick on the accelerator to keep us out of harms way.

*****

The only way to save a rhinoceros is to save the environment in which it lives, because there's a mutual dependency between it and millions of other species of both animals and plants. ~ David Attenborough

Monkey King

I was having lunch at Hai Di Lao, my favourite hotpot restaurant in Shanghai. The broth can splatter onto diners, so a range of protective accessories from aprons to cellphone covers and hair bands are provided to patrons. 

Pretty Chinese Girl: Here is hair band for your head. Oh, I forgot you don’t have hair there anymore! Hahahahaha. Anyway, you can use it for your hairy back then. 

Me: Korean girls don’t like my hairy body.

PCG: No girl like it.

Me: Maybe Latin ones? I’m not sure.

PCG: If they like monkey.

Dance Wance

Me: This year I need to find a job, meet a girl, get some muscles, and learn how to dance.

Pretty Chinese Girl: The dance is impossible.

Me: Why!? Maybe it is hidden inside of me somewhere...

PCG: Must be very deep inside then.

Handsome & Judgmental

Pretty Chinese Girl: You always say white man, black man, pretty girl, ugly girl. You are very judgmental. 

Me: Handsome judgmental man.

PCG: Handsome does not belong anywhere near you!

Horse

Pretty Chinese Girl: Wow! Your nose holes are enormous. Just like a horse!

Me: That’s not the only thing that’s like a horse.

PCG: The nose holes must take forever to clean.

Me: Or many fingers…

PCG: At least two can fit inside at once!

A Difference of Opinion

I had a layover in Shanghai, and briefly met up with a Chinese girl who I knew from my Beijing days.

Pretty Chinese Girl: You are still short! Hahaha.

Me: Well… I am tall in China.

PCG: You look same as before but half your hair is gone.

Me: Yes, because of the water in China.

PCG: Do not blame everything on China.

Me: I am skinnier though.

PCG: You look older.

Me: You mean skinnier and younger?

PCG: No, older.

Me: Younger?

PCG: Do you want to hear my real thought or do you want just I repeat your opinion?

Conversations with Cabbies: Are you Married?

Filipinos are a very warm and friendly lot, and not just in comparison to Koreans (as then almost everyone else would also qualify). Whereas the average Korean is mute when in the vicinity of a non-Korean or if their smartphone still has battery life left, Filipinos are quite talkative. They have curiosity and some awareness of the world around them, especially because a lot of them have worked overseas or know family and friends that have done so. The cab drivers in the Philippines frequently engaged me in conversation.

Cab driver: Are you married?

Me: No, are you?

Cab driver: Yes, two.

Me: Two?

Cab driver: Yes.

Me: You have two children?

Cab driver: No, two wives. 

Me: Oh, I don’t even have one.