June 2017 – Der, Wolf, and Pack

June 20, 2017January 25, 2020

Everland

We had to make a quick trip to Seoul a couple weeks ago to get a few things at IKEA. To make the journey at bit more worth our time, we stopped for a day at Everland, Korea’s largest theme park.

Everland was originally a nature park – if my poor translation of a plaque in the park was correct – then was turned into a theme park in 1976 named “Farmland.” Lots of gardens and animals. Then more animals. Then a snow sled. Then more animals and more rides. And eventually big fancy rides and a water park and, as of last year, pandas.

It was, honestly, a fabulous place. It felt like Disneyland back in the day, before everything became too pricey and commercialized (Hyperspace Mountain? Really?). The park was huge, with a variety of things to do, much of which was kid-friendly – everything from a K-Pop hologram concert to Korea’s largest wooden roller coaster to pony rides (!!) to a safari drive. Tickets were reasonably priced at about $120 for the family (compared to $120 for 1 adult ticket at Disneyland). The food was reasonably priced and the things we ate were delicious (compared to Tokyo Disney, where we spent $30 for a palm-sized pizza and shrimp burger that were gross). There was a shaved ice stall on practically every corner, a beer garden (beer garden!), and, of course, churros galore.

The only downside was the lines. Lots of people, lots of lines. However, since Korea is not an early rising kind of place, you can enter the park when it opens at 10 am and knock out several rides before the crowds start showing up around noon. This was not the case in Japan – a country seemingly full of morning people – where Disneyland had a massive line of people waiting an hour before it opened at 8 am and all the Fastpasses were gone by 11 am.

Everland also had several thoughtful elements of convenience – something I’ve noticed is typical in Korea. For example, throughout Korea, bathrooms have special kid features, such as kid-height sinks and bathroom stalls with kid-sized toilet seats and even baby chairs on the wall with a five-point harness so the mom who is using a baby carrier has someplace to put baby. Everland sits on the side of a hill, with many sloping paths, so in addition to chair lifts and gondolas, there are several moving walkways to save you having to walk uphill.

They also still allow families to bring in practical items, like wagons and food coolers. We even saw one fellow standing on the back of a motorized wagon. I didn’t even know they made those.

So, I’m pretty sure we’ll be returning to Everland at some point, if for no other reason than the churros and beer.

the big tree and garden are changed seasonally to seasonal themes

the ferris wheel is no longer in use, but I think they plan to leave it

this doesn’t look like a knock-off at all

Hello Carbot is the kids’ favorite Korean show

doing sleepy poses next to the sleepy chick

kind of hard to see, but I love this: a chair full of wheelchairs, followed by a chair full of grannies

the lions had the best pen (they’re asleep under that tree on the left)

Korea received their first pandas as a gift from China last year

the cute and not at all inferior Lesser Panda

they’re already asking when we can return

June 19, 2017January 25, 2020

Rice Planting

The rice fields outside our window are slowly coming to life. Over the past month, farmers prepared and planted the fields. It’s been an interesting process to watch, because I know next to nothing about rice farming.

it’s like living next to a lake… at night, the lights are pretty and the frogs are croaky (not looking forward to the mosquitoes)

First, they flooded the fields, then tilled them. This seemed like an interesting order of events to me, but they obviously know what they’re doing. I also saw a guy walking through the sodden fields throwing around what had to be fertilizer.

It’s hard to see from our apartment, but a walk through the paddy fields revealed that they are, in fact, terraced. Each paddy is about 1-2 feet lower than the one east of it. Directly to the east of us in the mountains is an earthen dam blocking up a small river, and I presume the water is flowing from there, as there is a canal system all throughout the fields around us from the highway to beyond the lotus pond. There are very many earthen dams all over the mountains in this district, due to all the agriculture.

The rice plants were brought in on trucks and dropped along the edge of the fields until the field was ready to be planted. Apparently, rice seeds are planted in March or April in very wet seedbeds. They germinate and grow up thickly, like the grass of a lawn. However, they need more space to mature, so in May and June they are transported to the paddy fields and planted a foot apart in rows.

Historically, planting was done by hand, but today they have a special tractor that plants the rice. It’s called a Rice Transplanter. Unfortunately, I was never in a position to run down and take a closer photo when they were using it, but I wanted to because it is a fabulous little thing. The flats of rice plants are loaded onto an angled platform and gravity feeds them towards a row of spinning forks that grab each little plant and poke it down into the mud. It can plant about six rows at a time. Rice Transplanters were developed by the Japanese in the 60’s and are now fairly common in east Asia, where labor rates are high. This has to be better for the farmers, though, because so many of the old Korean ladies around here are very, very hunched over from years of working in the fields.

Agriculture in South Korea has long been dominated by rice. Koreans have been growing rice for thousands of years, and it even has helped shape Korean culture. Planting and harvesting rice requires the cooperation of an entire community, and some scholars argue that this is one reason why Confucianism, with its emphasis on social harmony, has been so prevalent in Korea.

Today, rice remains one of Korea’s biggest (and most government protected) crops. However, rice consumption is the lowest it’s ever been here, as industrialization and the need for convenience has increased demand for wheat (for bread, noodles, and pastries) and prepackaged foods. And even though there are tons of rice paddies around, I would not describe it as monoculture. Right in the middle of the rice paddies we can see are a couple of wheat fields. There is also barley, many fields of cabbage and onions and soybeans, some pepper and tomato fields, and some kind of fruiting trees I don’t recognize. Kiwis are also pretty common down near Samcheonpo.

The whole planting process definitely seems to be a community or family experience, because we have noticed tractors (and the rice transplanters) being used at multiple (disconnected) fields. I’ve heard that extended families and neighbors will share machines, and also that farmers often have multiple small fields in many locations, so it is not uncommon to see an old farmer driving his tractor down the road (or sidewalk!) from one field to the next. Unlike most developed nations, Korea still has a large number of small owner-operated farms. The average farm size in Korea is 1.2 acres, compared to 71 acres in the U.S. But the country is extremely mountainous, and only 15-20% of its land is arable.

And with increasing urbanization and foreign trade, the number of Korean farmers has shrunk dramatically in the past few decades. Agriculture’s contribution to GDP dropped from 40% in the 1960’s to 2% today. And agricultural labor dropped from 50% to 6%, while the average age of farmers has increased from 45 to over 60. All around the country, you can see farm land being converted into high-rise apartment complexes or industrial buildings.

For the next couple months, the rice paddies around us will remain flooded. Korea’s climate is actually ideal for rice: the rainy season begins soon after transplanting, keeping the land wet. By the time the monsoon ends in late summer, the plants are big enough to switch to dry land growth and the fields are drained. By October, the rice is fully grown and ready for harvest. Chuseok, or Korean Thanksgiving, takes place in October and celebrates the bounty of the harvest. It is one of Korea’s most important holidays.

…Or so I hear. I suppose I’ll find out for certain soon enough.

June 18, 2017January 25, 2020

Jinju Nongae Festival

Every May, the city of Jinju celebrates the Nongae Festival at Jinju Fortress (Jinjuseong). It is a traditional arts festival that “presents the spirit of Jinju and the loyal spirit of patriotic Nongae.”

Jinjuseong was originally built during the Three Kingdoms era (57 BC-668 AD)

Who is Nongae? She was, like most Korean historical figures, a complete and total bada**.
Do you remember, in my post about Seollal, I posted a picture of a statue in Jinjuseong of General Kim Si-Min? Without much detail, I mentioned that in 1592 he and an army of 3800 men held Jinjuseong against a Japanese invading force of 20,000. And in my post about April, I mentioned Admiral Yi Sun-Sin and his turtle boats defeating a (much larger) Japanese naval force at the Battle of Sacheon in 1592. Well, all of that was part of a larger conflict known as the Imjin War (or Imjinwaeran War, or the Japanese Invasions of Korea). I could (and may, if I have time) write an entire post about this war, simply because of the many bada** Korean leaders and fighters (warrior monks!) that appeared during it.
In the late 16^th century, Toyotomi Hideyoshi* unified Japan and began looking toward Korea and China. In 1592, he invaded Korea with around 160,000 soldiers. They made a lot of progress across the peninsula, but became locked in a stalemate and declared a truce. When peace negotiations failed, the Japanese tried invading again in 1597, but ultimately failed to make further progress. Hideyoshi’s death in 1598, combined with the Korean navy interrupting their supply lines to Japan, led the Japanese to finally withdraw from the Korean peninsula and eventually resume normal relations.
During the initial invasion, Jinjuseong was targeted by the Japanese as a strategic stronghold that would allow them access to Jeolla province in the west (a rich, agricultural region of the peninsula). Some 20-30,000 Japanese soldiers were sent to take Jinjuseong in what was supposed to be an easy victory for the Japanese. But General Kim was a clever and well-prepared man who had the foresight to acquire a couple hundred arquebuses (an early hand gun) that helped the small Korean force repel the Japanese. It was one of the greatest Korean victories during the war.
Unfortunately, this rather pissed off Hideyoshi, who sent another force several months later with 90-120,000 soldiers determined to obliterate the Koreans. And obliterate they did. The few thousand Korean soldiers at Jinjuseong were killed, along with 50-70,000 Korean citizens.
To celebrate their victory, the Japanese gathered in Chokseongnu Pavilion in Jinjuseong and summoned all of the gisaeng to entertain them.

Chokseongnu Pavilion (ca. 1241) was burned down during the Korean War and was rebuilt in 1960

Gisaeng (another interesting subject that could consume an entire post) were basically government slaves who functioned as “entertainers.” This included everything from dancing and composing poetry to sexual services and even to medical care and diplomacy. Gisaeng occupied the lowest status in society, but because they were government employees, so to speak, they were also highly regulated and carefully trained. Many were accomplished poets and artists, though their talents went unappreciated because of their low social status. Gisaeng lived throughout Korea, but most worked at the royal court in Seoul.
Nongae was one of these gisaeng. But she had other plans to “entertain” the Japanese soldiers. Putting on her finest dress and jewelry, the beautiful Nongae sat down upon a rock next to the Nam River underneath Chokseongnu. She began singing and playing a geomungo (Korean harp). Naturally, the Japanese were enthralled by her beauty and several went down to the rock, but only a Japanese general dared approached her. Nongae smiled and flirted with the general, then invited him to dance. Nongae embraced the general tightly, used rings on her fingers to lock her hands together, and threw herself off the rock into the river. Unable to escape her grasp, the Japanese general drowned along with Nongae.

view of Chokseongnu from the river bank; Uiam rock sits below it by the water

Throughout the years, Nongae has been celebrated by various Korean authors and historians for her patriotism and loyalty. The rock from which she jumped is known as Uiam (“righteous rock”) and her spirit is honored in Jinjuseong at Uigisa (“righteous gisaeng shrine”), apparently the only shrine in Korea dedicated to a woman. Her rings, a symbol of her loyalty, adorn the Jinju Bridge that crosses Nam River. The city has long held a festival honoring Nongae’s spirit, but they began the Nongae Festival of arts in 2002.

The festival is held over three days the last weekend in May. It began with the ritual honoring Nongae’s spirit – “Uiambyeolje” – superintended by women and involving song and dance. A variety of other songs and dances were performed throughout the festival, as well. There were booths showcasing traditional foods and drink, pottery, wood chopping, books and writing utensils. We tried some traditional Korean rice tea, and puffed rice with some kind of ginger toffee. There were commercial booths selling Jinju strawberry jam, Jinju silk (the city produces 70-80% of Korea’s silk), and other local specialties. We bought a delicious pineapple smoothie from Buddhist nuns. We got ice cream and watched part of a traditional “intercultural” wedding (the groom was Dutch, I think). There were booths devoted to traditional clothes, as well: one to choose your hanbok and one to have your hair and makeup professionally done. Groups of beautiful Korean ladies in hanbok sat on the grass underneath the trees, surfing the web on their smart phones. There were pony rides, archery games, strolling drum bands, a place where kids could draw Nongae on a leaf and hang it on a “tree”… and several other booths that were not yet set up when we were there (we left before the party really started). And all of this was just in the fortress. Across the river was an even bigger party and we could see an entire street full of booths, plus a temporary dock on the river with boats and jet skis for rent.

showcasing a traditional restaurant and foods

Connery joined a family in their soccer/football game

drummers… so early in the day (noon), the crowd was light

The highlight of the festival every year, which unfortunately we missed, is a nighttime reenactment of Nongae’s sacrifice. The audience sits on a pontoon platform floating on the river and watches actors reenact the battle, the rock encounter, and Nongae grabbing the general before leaping into the water. As you can imagine, the sight of actors fully clad in traditional clothes leaping into the water in a display of patriotic loyalty is rather popular with the crowd. I hope we can see the reenactment, if we return next year.

*Toyotomi Hideyoshi is remembered by the Japanese for a number of achievements, and by non-Japanese for a number of atrocities. I’m sure you can guess what Koreans think of him. A million Koreans died during the Imjin War (one-third of their population at the time). And there is quite literally an ear (and nose) mound in Kyoto known as Mimizuka (“ear mound”), a monument dedicated to the war trophies Hideyoshi sent back to Japan: the ears and noses of tens of thousands of Korean citizens. Such “trophy” mounds from the war are actually found in several places throughout southern Japan. Mimizuka has been a point of contention between Korea and Japan, especially in the late 20^th century, when Japanese educators refused to include the site in history textbooks – and when they finally did, tried to argue that it was a monument to the spirits of the Koreans who were killed. A Times article written in 1997 on the 400^th anniversary of Mimizuka’s dedication stated that few Japanese knew about the monument’s existence, and yet nearly all Koreans did. … And if you watched Martin Scorsese’s depress-fest Silence last year, you may be familiar with the persecution of Christians in early 17^th century Japan. Hideyoshi got that ball rolling when he crucified 26 Franciscan missionaries and Japanese Catholics in Nagasaki in 1597. The imperial government – which initially welcomed St. Francis Xavier as a possible bridge to European trade and Catholic missionaries as a counterbalance to powerful Buddhist monks – became fearful that Christianity was a precursor to colonialism (as it had been elsewhere), so outlawed the foreign religion. Over the next few decades, hundreds of Japanese and missionary Christians were killed and those who remained became the Kakure Kirishitan, “hidden Christians,” worshiping in secret until the religious ban was lifted in 1873. Western missionaries who arrived in the late 19^th century were shocked to discover around 30,000 Kakure Kirishitan in Japan at the time.

let’s end on something happy… like a cute little girl!

June 16, 2017January 25, 2020

Mother’s Day – Bito Island

Mother’s Day last month was a beautiful, beautiful crystal clear Sunday, and I told the family I wanted Starbucks and a drive. The closest Starbucks is down in Samcheonpo, so I don’t get there very often (not a fan of their coffees but they have the best chai around). There’s also this bridge we pass on the drive down there and I’ve always wanted to know what’s on the other side.
So, after a quick stop at Starbucks for my drink and some snacks for the kids, we followed the bridge west across Sacheon Bay. There was not much in the area immediately past the bridge: a rest stop with a large tourist map of the region; some homes; what we thought was a historical site but turned out to be a pension and a love hotel on top of a hill; a couple of concrete piers; lots of fishing boats sitting on the mud while the tide was out. The view across the bay to Sacheon was lovely, however.

On the large tourist map, the kids noticed a statue of a bunny riding a turtle on one of the nearby islands, and they insisted we investigate.
We continued down the road to Seopo, and I did my best excited-dog-in-the-front-seat-with-the-window-open impression, yelling “It’s so prettyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!” into the wind while admiring the gorgeous views. Vibrant green deciduous trees mixed with darker pine trees along the tops of the hills, farms and homes cascaded down into valleys where terraced rice fields had recently been flooded in preparation for planting. Rows of mountains faded into the distance in lighter and lighter shades of blue. Yellow wildflowers were popping up along the road. And Koreans have a thing for tree-lined roads, so the narrow highway we followed, curving along the hills, was covered with a leafy canopy much of the way. In between patches of trees, we could catch glimpses of the bay behind us sparkling in the afternoon sunlight.
After a cold, leafless, and mostly smoggy winter, the green trees and flowers and clean air were almost magical.
And as the land warms up, people get to work. More than once, we had to pass an old Korean man driving his tractor between fields (and play chicken with oncoming drivers along the narrow road). Elderly couples and some families were tending their fields and gardens. One young boy carried freshly-plucked and characteristically massive Korean green onions (daepa) to his mother while the family pup trotted alongside him.
We turned south, back towards the bay, and we could see long stretches of mud flats exposed by low tide. Poking out of the water – and found all around islands in the bay – are bamboo weirs. This traditional fishing method, known as jukbangnyeom, involves driving long wooden beams into the sea bed and stretching bamboo screens along the top to catch fish in the fast current of the incoming tide. Apparently, anchovies comprise most of the catch, and these Jukbang anchovies are supposedly one of the best regional products. Anchovies are commonly used for making soup stock in Korean cooking; you can buy large bags of dried anchovies in the grocery store. They also sell bags of a much smaller anchovy, which is used to make anchovy stir fry, or myeolchi-bokkeum – quite literally a pile of tiny dead fish, sadly adorable beady eyes and all (so small they look like noodles, but one bite and you realize how wrong was that assumption).

Following the road over a couple of bridges, we arrived on Bito Island. We honestly didn’t know much at the time. We just kept driving along, looking for that whole turtle/bunny thing. On the south side of the island, we took a wrong turn, and came across a harbor full of fishing boats, a long footbridge to a small island even farther south, a group of ajummas cleaning some kind of fishing net, and a pile of clam shells that was literally the size of a house (I’m not even joking… I thought it was a huge pile of sand before a closer look revealed it to be shells). Naturally, we had to stop and walk around.

After our kids charmed a few of the old ladies with their “annyeonghaseyo” and Lena’s formal bow, we walked along the edge of the concrete-enclosed harbor to the big footbridge. Turns out, that little island is a fishing park: the Bito Marine Fishing Park. For a small fee, you can take your gear across to some floating docks out on the water and waste an afternoon hoping a hungry fish comes your way. For an even smaller fee, you can just walk around and take pictures. And for what I assume must be a not-so-small fee, there are dome-shaped huts, each with a kitchen and bathroom and an outdoor picnic table and each on its own platform out in the water, available to rent.
According to an advertising poster of the island hanging on the wall outside a bathroom, somebody has/had big plans for the place. Fancy little hotels, some kind of sports field, something that may or may not be an amphitheater. I’m not sure if all that is still in the works, but as it is it’s an interesting little park. The kids spent some time romping on what must be one of the most beautifully situated playgrounds I’ve ever seen. But other than that and fishing, there wasn’t much to do.

boardwalk runs along half the little island

Unless you’re also into clams. Because I hear this place has the best oysters in Korea. And if that massive pile of shells is any indication, raking for clams – clamming?? – is pretty popular. A few of the ajummas were wandering along the edge of the water, bucket in hand. And as we drove away from the harbor, we saw an entire family – grandma, grandpa, mom and dad, two grade school kids – hobbling into the rocks and mud with buckets and rakes. I read somewhere that these are Manila clams, a large clam species found in Korea’s coastal marshes and yummiest in their spring breeding period. Apparently, the locals make a soup out of them.

Continuing down the (only) road on Bito Island, we immediately noticed a large bunny statue at the base of a forested hill. Nearby was a parking lot – sure sign of a tourist site. Upon closer inspection, we discovered that the large bunny statue was of a standing, hanbok-clad, concerned-looking mama bunny holding a swaddled baby bunny and surrounded by several small bunny and one small turtle statues. Behind the statues, slightly up the hill, was a large fenced enclosure with at least a few dozen bunnies. Real bunnies. Real, fluffy, and adorable bunnies. Big, fat, and lazy. Palm-sized, fluffy baby bunnies. Fast bunnies. Hungry bunnies. Bunnies, bunnies, bunnies. Only, in Korean. So it should be tokki, tokki, tokki.

nothing says family fun like a bunny widow

After our brief encounter with the Bito-Island-cage-full-o’-tokki, Aaron and I have decided that we absolutely must return with bags full of sliced carrots. A friendly Korean family shared some weedy vegetables with the kids to feed bunnies, which was fun, but I’m pretty sure we can kick it up a notch.
Anyway, we could see some kind of observation tower on the top of the hill, so decided to walk up and check it out. It was a short but very steep climb over a few switchbacks that ran up the side of the hill. Exhausting, but worth it. The observation tower not only offered a gorgeous view of the surrounding region, but the tower itself was constructed to look as if it was sitting on the back of a turtle. I thought it was pretty cool. Taking the path down the back side of the hill, we walked past various construction projects, some Korean picnic tables cantilevered out over a cliff, some kind of stage or amphitheater down near the water, and eventually another clearing full of statues. This time, panels told a story about a bunny and a turtle, and there were statues of the bunny and turtle, some artsy mirrored columns, as well as a boat (?) and what looked to be the bunny’s house.

I don’t think the bunny had such a cushy ride

I’m guessing this was one of the “third hole” versions

I looked up the name of the story when we got home and discovered that it is a well-known Korean fairy tale, “Rabbit Visits the Dragon Palace” or “Byeoljubujeon.” The story goes something like this (shortened for your convenience)…
Long ago, the Dragon King ruled the seas. One day, he developed a seemingly incurable illness. His physicians told him that the only thing able to cure his illness was the liver of a rabbit. However, no rabbits lived in the seas and nobody had ever seen one. Nevertheless, the king asked for volunteers to go fetch the liver of a rabbit. The only volunteer to step forward was a lowly turtle, who argued that he alone was able to both walk on land and swim in the seas. So the Dragon King bid the turtle bring him a rabbit.
The turtle left the Dragon King’s palace and swam to a nearby shore, where, conveniently enough, a rabbit happened to be hopping by. The turtle and rabbit greeted each other, exchanged pleasantries, and discussed each other’s homelands. The turtle told the rabbit that the Dragon King wished to entertain a guest in his palace, and asked if the rabbit would like to visit. The rabbit agreed but wondered how he could survive underwater. The turtle explained that the rabbit could ride on his shell, and that the magic of the Dragon King would allow him to breathe.
So off they went to the Dragon King’s palace. After greeting the Dragon King, the rabbit soon learned that he had been tricked and that the king intended to kill him and take his liver. But the rabbit, being a clever rabbit, told the Dragon King that rabbit livers were so valuable rabbits had to hide them in the forest. And this, in fact, was exactly what the rabbit had done with his own liver. But the rabbit flattered the king and offered to retrieve his liver from the forest so that the Dragon King might be cured of his illness. The king agreed, and asked the turtle to take the rabbit back to shore so he may get the liver.
Back on shore, the rabbit bounded away from the turtle, saying, basically, “Haha, you losers! As if!” And neither the rabbit, the turtle, nor the Dragon King were ever heard from again.
I’ve read several versions of this story now, and there are many slight variations. Sometimes it is just a Sea King, not necessarily a Dragon King. Sometimes it is the Sea King’s daughter who falls ill. Sometimes the Sea King is merely a hypochondriac and is not really ill. Sometimes the rabbit parties hard in the palace. Sometimes he gets a government position. Sometimes the Sea King suspects the rabbit is lying and tries to kill him immediately. Sometimes the rabbit has to prove he removed his liver by showing his “third hole” (I assume belly button?). Sometimes the rabbit claims he was cleaning his liver by a stream and accidentally left it drying on a rock. Sometimes the rabbit and turtle become good friends. Sometimes the rabbit gives the turtle persimmon seeds as a “rabbit liver” and this cures the king. And I haven’t read anything about this, but apparently some versions give the rabbit a wife and/or girlfriend who waited so long for his return that she turned into an island (legend says this is Mok Island, one of the islands next to Bito). And in the storytelling panels around the Bito Island park, it looked as if the rabbit drowned on his return.
I have no idea what precisely are the origins of this story. One academic paper I read argued that it is a Korean derivation of “The Crocodile and the Monkey” tale from India, brought by Buddhist monks across China, and that it appears in the Samguk Sagi records of 1145 as an already-known older tale. But a local news article said “Byeoljubujeon” was a satirical novel written by an unknown author during the Joseon era (1392-1910). So… who knows? I’m guessing it’s an old tale that has had many retellings over the centuries.
But the latter origin story was used as justification for the whole Bito Island Byeoljubujeon thing we visited, as Bito is presumed to be the location of this novel. The Sacheon City Government even had the International University of Korea confirm that the island and its surroundings matched the novel’s setting. They designated it a tourist attraction a few years ago, and have been building it up as a themed park to stimulate tourism in the area.

that speck in the distance is our apartment building

I’m rather hesitant to say that a themed park based on an ancient tale of rabbit livers and turtle rides, located on an obscure island at the end of a long country road, is going to be a raging success. But, I’ll be honest: the views were spectacular, the bunnies were adorable, and I’m already making plans to return.
Well played, Sacheon City Government. Well played.

June 2, 2017January 25, 2020

Bangkok

For the first time in my life, I planned an international trip approximately one week before departure. Since I’m a plan-ahead, be-prepared kind of gal, it was a little nerve-wracking.

However, there is reason for this: Aaron doesn’t have a lot of whole weeks off, and “international trip” over here is kind of like hopping down to Mexico from Phoenix. Well, maybe not that casual, but definitely not as big a deal as it would be coming from the States. Gotta take advantage of it while we can.

The first week in May has three Korean national holidays: Labor Day (1st), Buddha’s Birthday (3rd), and Children’s Day (5th). There’s some debate about making the 2nd and the 4th public holidays also, to give Koreans a “Golden Week” like they have in Japan. (Golden Week in Japan is this same week, but they celebrate three different Japanese holidays, plus Children’s Day.) Originally, we planned to stay home and sightsee around this area, but then Aaron felt we should take advantage of his time off. He really wanted to visit Guam. However, being Golden Week, everything around this region was booked and/or too expensive: Guam, Saipan, Okinawa, Kumamoto, Jeju Island, etc. Then I stumbled across some deals to Bangkok, so… what the heck? Bangkok it is.

the beautiful Chao Phraya River… there are so many interesting and colorful boats it’s hard not to sit and watch all day

I last visited Bangkok in 2001 as part of a larger backpacking trip, and I remember great shopping and great food. There’s wasn’t much else to do, really, unless you were into temples (not my thing), drinking (just one glass, please), backpacker debauchery (no, thanks), prostitutes (nope), or, as my travel buddy Jen noticed on our street one night, “Prostitutes and elephants!” (don’t ask). Due to circumstances, we were stuck in Bangkok for about a month, and we were so bored we took one whole day just to visit every Starbucks in the city (there were about a half-dozen at the time; now there are 8 pages of listings on the starbuckslocations website). Actually, since we forced ourselves to take different forms of transport, from river ferries to tuk tuks to motorcycle taxis, it was a pretty fun day. Plus, we could “reward” our efforts at each Starbucks.

Well, 16 years later, with a husband by my side and kids in tow, it was an entirely different experience.

Great shopping?
“Mom, it’s sooooo hot. I’m tired.”
“I’m sweating, mommy.”
“Where are the toys? I want to see toys. I’m done here. This is boring.”

Great food?
“Eww! What is that??”
“I’m sweating, mommy.”
“I’m not going to try that.”

Alright, then, let’s try a boat ride.
“How much longer do we have to wait?”
“I’m all sweaty, mommy.”
“Is that our boat? … Is that one there our boat? … How about that one? Is that our boat?”

Okay, let’s do some sightseeing. We’ll visit the palace.
“It’s so hot! I need water or I’m going to dieeeeeeee!”
“I’m SWEATING, mommy!”
“This is sooooo boooooring.”

Fine, we’ll just go to the pool.
“Yay! The pool!”
“Yay! The pool!”
“Wait… You forgot my goggles. I can’t swim without my goggles.”

And that was pretty much it.

We stayed in a nice hotel next to the river that had a lovely atmosphere and a couple of nice pools. Since this was supposed to be a more relaxing trip than the Japan schedule-fest, we only planned something every other day, and spent the off days relaxing in our room or by the pool. (This was also to allow me and Connery to recover from our colds.)

there are many more riverfront high-rises and shopping centers today

Sunday, we took the kids to Chatuchak weekend market, one of the largest outdoor markets in the world. It is a massive labyrinth of tiny stalls that sell… well, just about anything you can think of. Clothes, home goods, art, electronics, pets, food, etc. Is it an item you can exchange for money? Then you probably can find it at Chatuchak.

one of the many, many, many alleys in Chatuchak

finding relief at a cafe with live music

clock tower in the center of Chatuchak, built in 1987 to commemorate the king’s 60th birthday

I have fond memories of Chatuchak from my trip with Jen. We would slowly wander the alleys, exploring the different stalls, browsing piles of silks and scarves, handwoven baskets, cups and teapots, or traditional birdcages, looking for that little diamond in the rough. I bought a beautiful intricately handwoven silk scarf on that trip. I carefully carried it home, draped it over a dresser, and accidentally set it on fire. But the memories are with me, and that’s what’s important.

Chatuchak today is a different place. It’s a bit more polished, more organized, more… hipster, I guess. You can see the cultural influence of development, the internet and globalism. Locals sit around in distressed jeans and tank tops, sipping iced coffee, smart phone in hand, listening to a saxophonist playing jazz at the “café” stall nearby. And not one person tried to rob me (I’m looking at you, dude who thought I couldn’t feel my backpack unzipping 16 years ago).

According to the World Bank, Thailand is one of the great development success stories, and it became an upper-middle income country in 2011. The poverty rate has dropped from 67% to around 10% in the last 30 years. Kids are getting more education. Nearly everybody has health coverage. Young people on the Skytrain wear the same nerdy nyan cat t-shirts and name brand sneakers you see on teenagers in America or Korea.

popular night market with food trucks and a cover band… if not for the myriad motorcycles and passing tuk tuks, I’d have thought I was in an American college town

This seems to be true of Asia as a whole today. It’s undergone a lot of growth and development in the last 20 years. And it’s still growing. Every place we’ve been is covered in construction sites. Plus, the middle class boom in China has sent Chinese tourists all around east and southeast Asia, and unlike European and Australian backpackers, middle class Chinese tourists expect quality. They are not happy to slum in a hovel for $10 a night, no matter how cheap the booze is. And as countries modernize and develop, young adults have more access to the internet, to global awareness and culture. International companies and brands move in. Tech companies move in, bringing jobs and allowing people to join the global conversation. My anthropologist/historian side kind of hates this, because ultimately development means less diversity. But who am I to deny somebody the joys of a smooth iced coffee or the life-changing technology of a smart phone? Who am I to say they should move their goods in tuk tuks rather than air conditioned trucks? Really… it’s an interesting time to be in Asia. Though they seriously need to get some environmental watchdogs with teeth (I’m looking at you, China).

That said, Thailand still has problems. Much of its rural areas are dominated by subsistence agriculture, and millions of people are still vulnerable. Thailand used to be a monarchy. It was never colonized by any Western nations, but after a 1932 revolution, it became a constitutional monarchy. Over the years, the Thai government has had some democratic moments, and a lot more military-quasi-dictatorship-repeals-constitution-after-a-coup moments (they have had SEVERAL constitutions, and the latest was ratified this April). Does anybody remember the political protests and coup that occurred a few years back? It’s all pretty complicated, but let me see if I can sum it up quickly…

Thailand was hit hard by the ’97 Asian financial crisis, and this led to the election of Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra. At first, the economy grew and he was popular. Then the 2004 tsunami hurt the economy, and he was less popular. The “Yellow Shirts” started protesting against him. There was a contested election. Then a coup in 2006 while Shinawatra was visiting the U.N. The military leaders allowed an election and a pro-Shinawatra party won in 2007. Then the 2008 U.S. financial crisis happened and the Thai economy fell again. The Yellow Shirts got angry and occupied Government House. A court ousted the Prime Minister and Shinawatra’s brother-in-law became the new Prime Minister. The economy tanked. The Yellow Shirts got really angry and seized Bangkok’s airports. A court ousted the bro-in-law. Opposition party took over and new a protest group, the “Red Shirts,” arrived. In the 2011 election, Shinawatra’s sister became Prime Minister. The Thai flooding of 2011 then 2012 Eurozone crisis pushed the Thai economy to the brink of recession. More protests. A court removed the sister. Then, in 2014, another military coup.

National Council for Peace and Order is a pretty name for a military dictatorship that has squelched and imprisoned politicians, professors, critics, protestors, and the press. Rather than hold an election and return the government quickly, as most of Thailand’s previous military leaders have done, the NCPO is hanging on. Some thought they wanted to remain in power until succession for the country’s ailing king was clarified, but King Bhumibol Adulyadej died last October after serving for over 70 years – making him the world’s longest-reigning monarch – and he was succeeded by his only son, King Maha Vajiralongkorn Bodindradebayavarangkun.

There were many Thai mourners paying their respects at the palace in Bangkok the day we visited. Long lines of people dressed all in black, standing along the road, crammed into tuk tuks and trucks, posing for photos in front of the temple. It was a very warm day, and we were all rather hot in our required modest pants and shoulder-and-cleavage covering shirts, so I could only think how hot they must have been standing around in full length black dresses and suits. But the king was apparently very popular. The new king? Not as much. It will be interesting to see what happens.

To be honest, as a tourist I would never have known about all of their political turmoil had I not remembered the coup and looked up some articles on the subject. The Thai people are as hard working and friendly as I remembered. Many of them are unhappy with the situation, but their protestations (apparently including eating sandwiches and posting images of the Hunger Games’ three-fingered salute) were harshly reprimanded. I hope they can find their way back to freedom, development, and progress soon.

And I hope we can return to enjoy and learn more about Thailand when the kids are a little bit older, a little bit more adventuresome, and a whole lot less whiney.