Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Globe Trotting in Asia: Demystifying Mongolia, Bhutan, and Western China

In the midst of the lovely prayer flag field, we looked at Lhasa from the mountains hugging the growing town.  We were surrounded by Sanskrit-covered flags that were overlaid with various mantras.  The wind was lively in such a high place and was responsible for the flags’ echoing crackle sounds.  Some of the flags were vibrantly new; some revealed their old age with their sun-baked streaks and knotted tatters.  The ground was covered with a stubborn sea of them. Walking through the field was cushioned but begged for cautioned steps.  We quickly learned that there could be holes or unsteady rocks that were hiding beneath the flags. 

A little further down and at the heart of the Himalayan field was a raised mound that resembled a chimney.  It was earthy and imperfect but its view of the valley was glorious.  When we went to look at it, we found over a dozen small clay trinkets nestled at its highest point.  The trinkets were incomplete because they had not been put through a kiln.  To the touch, the clay was still wet and very delicate. Some were whole and some were crumbling.  All of the stone-sized tiles were neatly stamped with enlightened Buddha figures and all were splashed with modest, random bits of gold paint.  These tiny tiles struck me as products of celebrated spirituality and ritual that were so thoughtfully crafted, carried, and placed in a site of alluring dramatic beauty and peacefulness.  The serendipitous discovery of the trinkets was like stumbling upon hidden treasure.  But before long, we continued hiking towards the nunnery.
It has been a few years since that mystifying hike near Lhasa.  Since then, I’ve thrown myself into other nations that have been shaped by Buddhism.  The traveler in me is drawn to such mystic places, but what I am most interested in is how these Buddhist societies are going about nation building, modernization, and development.  What is amazing to me is having recognized various derivatives of Lhasa’s small clay Buddha tiles in places like Bhutan, Western China, and Mongolia.  Buddhism has so many different forms and has been interpreted, accepted, applied depending on the societal context.  In many ways, the trinkets symbolize this characteristic: different in art form, nuances, symbolism; similar in tradition, application, ritual.  
    Another component I found striking takes on more of a historical tone.  During the age of colonialism, these scattered nations of Asia came into contact with the British Empire and were heavily impacted by imperialism.  However, as I stood in the Himalayan Mountains, overlooking the small Lhasa town of pastel blue rooftops and brown colored structures with rare bits of red, I realized how untouched the Tibetan Plateau seemed to be, despite the complicated relationship with China.  I learned later that the link between the British and Tibet happened over the course of only two years.  It started with a British intervention in 1903, and ended with The Treaty of Lhasa in 1904.  This treaty and the 1906 Anglo-Chinese Convention are significant links that explain much of the knotted political influence and China’s role as an authoritarian entity.  The justification for the intervention on the British side was born out of fear of the Dalai Lama’s appeal for Russian protection at the turn of the 20th century.  The fear of Tibet entering a Russian sphere of influence and losing a significant buffer state for India was the catalyst for the British to engage with the Chinese and to send an imperial army into lands of yaks, sherpas, and thin air.  
    To achieve monetary gains, British colonialism and imperialistic intervention took on a business model.  The East India Company sought to extract rare dyes, salt, cotton, silk, and opium from countries across Asia in order to engage in trade.  Shuffling materials around the globe reaps profit, especially when selling such precious goods from far off, exotic places.  As the British grew in influence and as she grew in wealth, the power that the empire had throughout Asia grew exponentially.  British influence evolved into colonization of nations like modern day India, Pakistan, Myanmar (Burma), Cambodia, Iraq, and Egypt.  British influence in China resulted in multiple rebellions of the peasantry class, addicting one of the world’s largest nations to opium, and weakening the Qing Dynasty.
    I have thrown myself into two countries that were unaffected by British intervention.  Although relatively untouched as they develop and modernize in this increasingly fast-paced world, both Bhutan and Mongolia have been heavily influenced by their comparatively large neighbors.
    My interest in Bhutan started when I discovered their concept of Gross National Happiness (GNH), as a counterpart to the western economic measurement Gross Domestic Product (GDP).  The very notion that this tiny nation, which finds itself wedged between two of the world’s fastest growing economies was successfully applying such a beautiful concept grabbed my attention.  How could the measurement of a value term like ‘happiness’ be done objectively by a political entity?  And how could the government transform an abstract term into something that is defined and actually measurable?  I learned that Bhutan is very aware of the dangers of modernization and the government has assumed a protective role for the society’s wellbeing.  Based on core Buddhist and human values, GNH is defined by four pillars: good governance, sustainable socio-economic development, cultural preservation, and environmental conservation.  
There are only eight pilots in the world that are certified to fly through Bhutan’s captivating Himalayan Mountains.  My plane twisted and turned as it negotiated its way through the narrow, empty crevices between mountains.  As we landed at the International Airport of Paro, I took in the scene of steep cliffs covered in blue pine trees with random splashes of wildflowers and cherry blossoms.  Not long after, we met our guides.  Over the course of three days, my guides helped me to understand the relationship that Bhutan has with Mahayana Buddhism and India.  Buddhism first came from India, but over centuries the belief evolved into two major schools: Theravada and Mahayana.  Bhutan believes in the latter, which is less focused on an individual’s journey to liberation, but rather about compassion and the liberalization of all living things.  The Mahayana teachings were developed in northern India before pouring out, northbound, towards the Silk Road.  Traveling along the major artery through the heart of China, Mahayana teachings transformed ideas, rituals, and beliefs in Tibet, Bhutan, Japan, China, and Korea.  In later centuries, the Vajrayana teachings emerged from the Mahayana school.  Vajrayana, or Tantric Buddhism, was embraced in Tibet and over the centuries it divided into various schools, each with its own philosophical, social, and political outlook.  Despite the differences between the Theravada, Mahayana, and Vajrayana schools, they each embrace the Buddhist concept of linking ignorance with enlightenment in order to achieve liberalization. Through their own rituals and teachings, they seek to break the cycle of suffering to enter a space of freedom. 

The Bhutanese call themselves and their language druk.  In English, this translates into meaning the people of the dragon.  Their national flag is a simple design: divided diagonally with yellow on the top left side, orange on the bottom right, with the white thunder dragon placed in the center.  In the early 1900’s, Bhutan elected its first Dragon King as head of state.  Due to the increasing Chinese influence in Tibet, the king realized the importance of maintaining healthy relations with the British and colonial India.  In 1910, The Treaty of Punakha stated that the British government would not interfere with the internal administration of Bhutan.  The treaty also maintained that Bhutan would be guided by advice from the British Government.  The Bhutanese refused to allow British residency and managed to maintain a policy of isolation to protect its own sovereignty during an era where much of the world was being carved up and colonized.   
The storm of World War II struck, yet left Bhutan unharmed and unaffected.  For Bhutan, the biggest impact of World War II was that the world was entering an era of decolonization, thus giving India its independence in 1947.  In the 1960’s, India began to realize the importance of its textile industry as well as the importance of wheat as an exportable good.  During this time, Mao Zedong was leading China towards the Cultural Revolution, and in 1959 the Red Guards invaded and took control of Tibet.  This event inspired the Third King of Bhutan to end the nation’s isolationist policy and instead move towards planned development.  He realized that modernization and building international relations was the key for Bhutan to preserve its sovereignty in this fast-paced contemporary world.  Equally as important, he understood the value of establishing an identity for Bhutan that would be internationally recognized.  The Third King of Bhutan is known as “The King of Modernization,” as he is credited for Bhutan’s entry into the United Nations and for establishing formal diplomatic ties with India by 1971.  Leading up to these international developments, Nehru agreed to help finance and construct the Chhukha hydroelectric project in western Bhutan.  Today, generating hydroelectric power is Bhutan’s number one industry, followed by tourism.  While the sustainable power is used to fuel Bhutan’s population, close to 75% of it is generated, exported, and sold to India, the world’s most densely populated country.  
With respect to development and modernization, the relationship between Bhutan and India is unique.  Bhutan began to modernize soon after India was entering a new era of its own – an era of independence.  The liberation of ending British rule in India came with traumatic predicaments: the creation of the Islamic state of Pakistan, the exodus of much of the Muslim population, and establishing an agricultural model that could feed the entire domestic population.  Nehru realized that no modern nation became wealthy by using agriculture and textiles as its primary industry and leading exportable goods.  He realized that to get India out of poverty, they would have to industrialize.  With the leadership of Nehru and his daughter Indira Gandhi, India became an industrialized nation within the span of just one generation.  While this quick turnaround did raise the standard of living and improved education standards, there were many reactions and widespread societal consequences due to the rapid changes.  
Bhutan found itself in a situation where it could concentrate on learning from India’s development successes, policies, and techniques.  Not only was Bhutan able to focus on developing a strong internal identity as it avoided colonization, but it is also blessed with its many snow and glacial-fed rivers.  In addition, it is filled with abundant minerals and mining potential.  Perhaps as a reaction to its large, rapidly developing, and electricity-hungry neighbors, Bhutan is a global leader in conservation projects.  Despite its great mining potential, the nation has decided to leave the earth’s resources untapped for future generations to use.
Nomadic, landlocked Mongolia has had to make decisions about how it fits into the modern world as well.  I remember riding the Trans Siberian Railroad from Beijing to Ulaanbaatar.  Everything about that train ride was surreal: The crowded, congested train station; Feeling as if we were tiny fish swimming upstream a sea of people to get to our train; Watching the landscape shift as the train left chaotic, tall, fast Beijing, and approached the vast emptiness of the Gobi Dessert, and eventually spilled into the lush open areas of wild horses, clear skies, and tiny clusters of gers.  The old stomping grounds of some of the most glorious rulers of the world like Genghis Khan and Kublai Khan come from the Mongolian steppe.  But rather than facing colonization by the British, Mongolia was part of the Chinese Qing Dynasty for over 200 years.  When the Qing dynasty collapsed in 1911, Mongolia claimed its independence, only to be invaded by Soviet Russia and made into a satellite state.  Mongolia did not achieve its independence until 1990. Thereafter, it established a new constitution, a democratic system, and a market economy.  Currently, approximately half of the nation’s population is concentrated in the Ulaanbaatar capital. The capital is maturing quickly, and offers a strange mixture of dust, pot-holed roads, and BMW dealerships; tall apartment complexes, single-story houses accompanied with backyard gers, ger slums on the very outskirts of the town.  The range of languages was incredible as well.  As we walked around Ulaanbaatar, we saw the uchen Tibetan cursive, Russian Cyrillic, Mongolian script, Chinese, and English. Depending on the history behind the place and how modern it was would determine the languages seen.  In old temples, it was normally a combination of the horizontal Uchen Tibetan script, complimented by the vertical cursive writings of the Mongolians.  Advertisements, city centers, directions, and bathroom signs were always in English.  Street signs, directions, names, product descriptions were written in both Russian Cyrillic and the Mongolian script.  
The clash of old, established beliefs with Mongolia’s modern history of gaining Independence from China, only to be occupied by communist Russia until the 1990’s has created a dynamic society that has multiple identities surging through its city dwellers and its nomads.  In comparison to Bhutan, Mongolia is not as concerned with conservation.  In actuality, mining and the oil industry is the ticket that Mongolia has used to modernize and to improve its economy.  Many Russian, Canadian, and Chinese businesses have established branches in Mongolia to take part in Mongolia’s rising mining industry.  

Mongolia’s belief in Buddhism has not been as consistent as that of Bhutan.  During the Soviet occupation, not only was livestock collectivized, but also during the Stalinist repressions monks were persecuted and many Buddhist monasteries were destroyed.  Although the Soviets defended Mongolia from Japanese aggression during the Soviet-Japanese Boarder War in 1939, the obliteration of the national religion was devastating for the population, and was developmentally shaping for the relatively modern spiritual outlook of the youths.  Mongolian culture is like that of a shape-shifting, ever-morphing ameba.  Their historical outlook towards religion has been open and willing to absorb multiple outlooks on spirituality.  During the reign of the Mongol Empire, leaders like Genghis Khan and Kublai Khan did not control conquered lands by projecting and forcing their beliefs onto the new Mongol societies.  Rather, they married into the society in order to maintain loyal bonds and established well-defined social positions to maintain order.  This resulted in an exchange of culture, outlooks, language, and belief systems.  The Mongolian Empire housed spiritual orientations ranging from Shamanism, to Christianity; and from Buddhism to Islam. Mongolia has been shaped by a mixture of Shamanism and Buddhism, but this unique openness to other cultures and societies has been incredibly shaping for its identity and its history.  However, the Stalinist occupation was disruptive with respect to practicing rituals and passing down collective, national memories to the next generation.  
Mongolia was entrenched, persecuted, and monitored by communist Soviet Russia during the age of colonialism.  At the end of the Soviet regime, Mongolia lacked exposure to an empire that had a parliament and open market system. Since the 1990’s, Mongolia has had to learn what to do with its resources and how to transform its culturally scattered and politically centralized nation into one that follows a democratic system.
Bhutanese and Mongolian cultures, heritage, and histories have been affected by Buddhism for centuries.  However, the way that Buddhism shaped the pre-existing social systems is different, as was Buddhism’s impact on nurturing distinct national perspectives.  In addition to the differences in spiritual and moral cultivation, the modern history of Soviet intervention in Mongolia and Bhutan’s right to sovereignty impacted the nation building of the two developing countries.  For Bhutan, the events that played out between Tibet and China encouraged them to instead nurture a healthy international relationship with India.  Bhutan was able to develop its own identity during its era of isolation, yet quickly transitioned to learn from the modern world, and India’s nation building process. For Mongolia, although it avoided colonization by the British as well, it was ruled by two very centralized regimes. Imperialization left Mongolia unaffected, but at the cost of Soviet influence, and religious persecution. With respect to nation building, both have created their own interpretation of liberalized democratic systems that operate within an open market society.

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Beijing: Hutongs, Trains, Subways

Last week I went to Beijing for an internship project. The internship is based in Shanghai, so I needed to find a place to stay in Beijing as well as a way to get to there. I decided to stay in a Hostel near a hutong instead of staying at some western Hilton-type Hotel. Also decided to take the high-speed bullet train rather than fly.

The Hutong near Kelly's Coutyard Hostel at Dusk

Train Ride -  The 5 plus hour ride was nice, cushy, red.  Food wasn't served, so I went on a scavenger hunt. The prize was learning how to say crackers in Chinese. Bonus was ice Cream. First class was made up of business people, Singles, professionals, working or sleeping (ie, in their own world). There wasn't much interaction, yet there was a loud divide.  Literally, though. One guy was watching movies on his laptop without headphones.  When I walked around and went to seek out the food car, I walked through the other class sections. Those were primarily families, students laughing with each other. It was noisier, had more bustle, had more interaction....the scene reminded me of a trip I took with a good friend when we rode from Chengdu to Xi’an. We got the cheapest, most uncomfortable seats. The train to Xi’an was unsophisticated (in comparison to the Shanghai train) but the awkward, curious interaction was there despite language barriers. I also wandered into the “tourism” class. Those seats reclined so far that they transformed into a bed. They got blankets, too. Most of the people in the tourism class were Chinese…

Doorway near the Hutong

Inside Kelly's Courtyard Hostel.
Beijing Subway – The early morning crowd is made up of well dressed, sophisticated looking people. Beijing in July is hot, and people do a good job of business-casual that compliments the weather.  There is still a mad rush, and people seem to assume that I don’t know what I’m doing because I’m clearly not Asian and my hair is the opposite of sleek-straight. It works in my favor, though. Typically, I'm texting (likely boyfriend in Seattle) as I weave through the crowd. They generally lighten up the intensity when I have my phone in hand. I'm finally starting to make sense of the organized chaos! That makes me a crowd ninja!

That was the morning scene.  Midday, I rode the subway from the office back to my hostel. This crowd was quite different. Primarily migrant workers. Darker skin, primarily because they were born into a minority family or because of the labor-intensive lifestyle of working on a farm.  It's not an easy life. Like anywhere, China has its social stigmas. This one in particular mirrors aspects of the deep blemishes in American society.  Darker skin is perceived as undesirable, lesser.  Many of the minorities have darker skin. You see the bias in their perception of beauty (marketing, ads) and in the differences of classes, work, lifestyle. To be honest, because of the nature of this particular workday itself, I was at a low in my day.  But my “low” seemed so minuscule after observing this.  The subway was packed.  I was stepping over bags (probably loaded with produce, goods) as the train moved and shifted bodies. The smell was unfamiliar – it was beyond the smell of crowded bodies.  In Shanghai, people are careful about that sort of thing. As was the business crowd in Beijing.

I hadn’t smelled anything like that before.  There was what looked like a Tibetan family (high, sunburned cheek bones) dressed in modern clothes.  The mother was quite thin, and was holding a child (no older than 5 years) and was also managing the two men that were part of the group. When waiting (fighting) to get onto the subway, she and I kept bumping into each other. Subway politics. In the end, we both got on. Her husband’s backpack became unzipped, and she would’ve had to put the girl down to help him. I was within reach, so I quickly reshuffled his backpack and zipped it up.  She cleared a small pathway for me to exit the train when I needed to leave.  This was such a quick, simple exchange. It was a small moment yet very sweet: we were looking out for each other.  In a crowded society, I think people learn how to put themselves and those that are close to them first.  I think it’s hard to care about a stranger when that stranger is just another face in a sea of people.  In China, if you always put other people before yourself, you would get absolutely nowhere.  On the other hand, when people are involved in each others’ lives, it's a wonderful community to observe and to be warmly accepted into. It can be so sweet, so caring, so close. But first, you have to be part of the group.
 
Snapshot of the Hutong in the morning, on my way to work
If ever in Beijing, I highly recommend looking into Kelly's Courtyard Hostel! It's a special place with a ton of character.  The grounds keeper, Mark was so gracious and had much insight to offer about Beijing lifestyle. When he learned of my plans for Mongolia, he even passed along a book about Mongolian dialect.  Here is the information about the guesthouse:


Chinese name of the hostel:凯丽家酒店

Address: No.25, Xiaoyuan Hutong of Bingmasi Hutong, Xisi South Street, Xicheng District, Beijing, 

Chinese address:北京市西城区西四南大街兵马司胡同内小院胡同25号
Hostelworld Link: http://www.hostelworld.com/hosteldetails.php/Kelly-s-Courtyard/Beijing/23366?dateFrom=2014-07-04&dateTo=2014-07-07
My Room in Kelly's Courtyard


Friday, June 20, 2014

Propaganda Poster Museum - 大字报

I recently went to a museum called the Propaganda Poster Museum.  Finding it wasn't easy, and I got utterly lost in the process. Turns out, the museum is actually in an apartment building... on the Basement floor. Yup.
Entrance to Museum. Apartment Complex on HuaShan Road

The museum was small, charming, and had many layers to it. By displaying the propaganda that engulfed, haunted, inspired China during the 20th century, it managed to show the controversial transformations that Chairman Mao forced onto the Chinese People.  The era of Mao was the first time that China was united in over 2,000 years. From what I understand, this group of people shared a common history, a common culture, and a common (written) language. What they lacked was a common vision of what was to become of them as a group of people.  Between the British invasions, the Manchus, War Lords of the north, Dragon Lady Empresses, the opium wars, Dr. Sun Yat-sen's attempt to make China a democratic nation, and the showdown between Mao and Kai-shek, the people were living in a country that was changing rapidly. The ability to steer their fate and the fate of their children was out of their hands - and in a constant state of flux. After Mao's Long March, China was finally united once again. A sense of hope swept throughout the country. The events that followed and bled into the Cultural Revolution seems both traumatic yet (sadly) necessary for China to transform itself.  In retrospect, it's no wonder why Mao is such a controversial figure.  Ask anyone in China today about their opinion of Mao, and you will get anything from strong admiration and loyalty, to anger, to humorous comments.  I have yet to run into someone that has a neutral opinion of Mao here in China.

The museum is prefaced with a small introduction: "As Winston S. Churchill famously said, “The Empire of the future will be the empire of the mind.” In the days before CNN and Fox News, a still image truly was worth a thousand words, and these posters were how Mao and his group informed and restored the collective mind of the Chinese people. It is a heroic saga of countless victories over momentous struggle..."

I will be going back a few more times while in Shanghai to learn more. For the sake of the length of this particular blog post, I will focus on the Big Character Posters. 

In one portion of the modestly sized museum were Dazibao(大字报), or Big Character Posters. Dazibaos play an important role in Chinese history, as they allow a society that praises reputations and outward appearances to create an anonymous public spectacle of criticisms towards leaders. These posters were some of the most powerful pieces of the Cultural Revolution. They represent the fear, paranoia, and chaos of the time.


Dazibao - created by Mao as a weapon to denounce rightist sympathizers. On university campuses, students would paste these large posters to denounce their professors as reactionaries, either because they truly believed in this idea or that they feared being otherwise being called a rightist.


Dazibao represent one of the few effective modes of free speech that voice political concerns in China

The museum describes the collection as "imaginative creations" and had few links to actual truth. Dazibaos were created by Mao as a weapon in the Cultural Revolution. They were weapon of propaganda, a weapon of the mind.

China is the birthplace of paper, and Mao thought of himself as a calligrapher and fancied poetry. In many ways, he started a revolution with paper and pen. The irony is that by describing the Dazibaos of the Cultural Revolution as pieces of art (rather than historical documents) ethical questions about what art can be used for and what art has the power to do are considered.

Dazibao suddenly disappeared after the Cultural Revolution, as people hated what they stood for, and nobody saw them as having any value as an art form.

Big-character posters were used to denounce people as opponents of the Revolution. Mao turned to the medium of the big-character poster in order to express his own revolutionary goals and he encouraged the masses to do the same.
The owner of the modest Propaganda museum describes his connection to the posters: "I was a university student during the Cultural Revolution. The school campus was full of Dazibao, posted on walls. Even today, when I close my eyes, I can still see them vividly in my mind. I never expected that, years later, I would be showing Dazibao as art...These posters are unsurpassed as people’s art, not only as a historical witness of the Cultural Revolution, but also as priceless treasures of Chinese contemporary art."

I didn't hide a GeoCache here, the exhibit is enough of a find.
Here are the coordinates:

31 12'48.37"N, 121 26'20.51"E

Monday, June 2, 2014

Yangshuo (Guilin) Geocache

This post is about the first cache I hid in China.  In a previous post, I talk about my geocaching project.

Yangshuo has beautiful Karst rock formations and is near the Li river.  The scenery is unforgettable. Unfortunately, Yangshuo (near Guilin) is known as one of the biggest tourist destinations in China.  Much of the original Chinese culture of the place has been trampled on in order to meet tourist desires and western expectations.  Regardless, I found the natural beauty of Guilin astounding.  The pictures I saw and the research done prior to going didn't do it justice. 
Guilin.
To understand more about Karst rock formations:
http://www.guilinchina.net/travel-guide/location/karst-mountains-and-caves.htm

Such beauty can only remain untouched and undiscovered for so long.  Guilin has embraced the era of tourism - where it is finding a balance between unique landscape and resorts.  Guilin has a railway system that connects it to major cities such as Shanghai, Beijing, and Xi'an.  Also, it has an autobahn that connects Yanshuo to the airport.

I had a different hiding place in mind when I set out to plant this cache in Yangshuo. On my way, I wandered into a little village and decided this was a better place for it.  As I  walked through the village, I saw rice patties and beautiful views of the karst rock formations that Guilin and Yangshuo are known for.  The village eventually turns into a dead end.
  This little village was accessible by the main road, yet tucked away from the tourist traps.  Inside the cache is a Jurgen Bey quote, a log, and 20 yuan (equivalent to $3). I put in the 20 because it has an iconic picture of Guilin on it.

The Coordinates: 24 46'28.52"N, 110 29'48.21"E

The Cache
The cache is hidden in a tree near here
A note to the person that finds it. It explains what they found and asks them to take what is inside and leave behind something for the next person that finds it. It also asks them to add their name to the list. At the bottom, I wrote my Chinese name.

The Story Behind the Geocaching Project

Background story: A friend of mine gave me a travel book.  My idea is to hide the best parts of this book in the form of geocaches in the places I visit.  I'm doing this by including favorite quotes and images in my hidden cache. I could say that I'm paying it forward, but that would be a lie. This project  really only fuels my wanderlusting activities.
What is geocaching?: It is a scavenger hunt of the 21st century! You look up the posted geocaches that are in your location by using GPS-enabled devices. After you navigate to the provided coordinates, you try to figure out where the cache (or treasure) is hidden based on the provided clues. It's alot of fun and great to do with a group of people.  The clues range in difficulty and can lead a scavenger to special places. Whatever the process, finding the cache is rewarding. To find out more, click here.

Why I am not posting this on the geocaching site?: So, the truth is... I tried. The geocaching site has specific criteria for people to adhere to in order to post coordinates of the hidden cache. Because I am doing this as a traveler, I will not be able to check up on the caches that I hide as often as they would like. Because of this, I do not have a way of maintaining what I hide or making sure that it does not move, get damaged, or that someone removes it entirely.  I respect their approach, but the site is not made for serial cachers like myself.

My plan: I am back in China for an Internship in Shanghai. I plan to travel within China, and I will be meeting incredible boyfriend in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. What this means is there are many opportunities to leave a geocache behind!! I will upload coordinates, and describe where I am and what I am experiencing in this blog. So, if you are curious, you can look up the location
on apps like Google Earth and see what I am talking about, seeing, hearing. I will describe what the treasure is in my blog and will leave it for a local, or a fellow traveler to (hopefully) find one day.  Essentially, I am trying to connect readers to what I am experiencing, while sharing something that is special to me with a stranger that stumbles upon the cache.


Saturday, January 25, 2014

In Japan: Getting to the Yasukuni Shrine (Part II)

I am no longer in Japan.  I returned to my college town a day before school started. But still, I have the Yasukuni Shrine in the back of my mind. 

Before leaving for the states, I wandered back to the shrine two more times. The second time there, I went through the museum (1st level was free, but the exhibit itself was worth the fee). I was curious how the museum would present the Emperor's Army and Meiji Restoration Era. 

My third time there was an unplanned drive-by situation on the way to the airport. The taxi driver insisted on showing me the Imperial Palace (despite assuring him that I have seen the Palace and I have visited Japan many, many times). He was very sweet about it and very proud of his town. I am glad he did this, because we drove by the Yasukuni Shrine. As we did so,  I asked him if he's been inside. He nodded with a big smile and said that he has lived in Tokyo for 20 years and that visiting the shrine for New Years is tradition.  Not just a tradition for him, but for families throughout Tokyo. He said it gets very crowded. 

In the airport, I looked up the news stories about Prime Minister Abe's visit to the Shrine.  Sure enough: reports of South East Asia's outrage and appall at Abe's visit were released just a few days before the New Years. So, was his visit part of a Japanese tradition? Was he showing respect to old leaders and soldiers? Was he really trying to stick it to China and Korea?

Without the Meiji Restoration Era, Japan would not be as westernized as it is today.  Japan threw out its Samurai Bushido code, and its educational system and replaced them with new ones. These new  systems reflected (what the Japanese believed) were the best of the Western World. Westernization and modernization is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, a country must sacrifice aspects of its cultural identity.  On the other, the transition from being a developing economy to a developed economy offers the opportunity of higher education and a greater standard of living to its people. The way I see it is: The world's system has been developed, nurtured, and influenced (primarily) by western powers and European thinkers. Global systems (ie international law, economic policy, treaties, judicial systems) were created with a western background, a western perspective, ideology, and standards. So, if the nature of International Relations was developed and influenced by western leaders and policy makers, of course non-western world countries would have to adapt to those standards. It's Darwin's Theory of Evolution and Survival of the Fittest on a global scale.  Countries of the old world have been trying to adapt to Western systems since decolonization (World War I) and have made monumental transformations since the Digital Age (think India and China).


Map of imperial Japan

Before visiting the shrine, I had only understood its controversy through China's eyes.  Now, I see it a  little differently.  There is China's perception and anger at the crimes committed on its soil. The bitter sentiment lingers and continues to play into their relations with Japan.  On the other hand is Japan's point of view: without the Meiji Restoration, their modernization process would have certainly happened much later and much slower.  I am not justifying the "Crimes against Peace" that Japanese commanders and soldiers were convicted of in the Tokyo trials. What I am saying is that it was a necessary step for Japan to take in order to be taken seriously by the Western powers during World War II.



The Meiji Restoration may have been a militant one, but the Restoration and the aggressive modernization was arguably necessary for Japan's future. 

The Shrine symbolizes all of this - the transformation, the growth, and the ugly details of the era. Specifically, it honors those that fought in the Emperor's Army during the Meiji Restoration.


Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Bite the Tadpole


I recently met a gentleman named Paul.  What started off as a quick introduction turned into a conversation about experiences, Spainglish, and culture shock.
Paul is charismatic, expressive, and ready for a laugh. His hair is turning from silver to white and his face has embraced laugh lines. From what I understood, the twists and turns of his consulting career lead him to the East Coast of the US. He flies to Asia and India for business often and expressed a keen desire to do less traveling for the sake of business and more for the sake of pleasure, curiosity, enrichment, ect.  He enjoys laughing and sharing stories about his younger self – particularly his stories about Columbia.  Paul was raised in Calle and grew up in a bilingual (“Spanglish”) household.
At one point, he began talking about advertising in Columbia. The example he gave was about Chevrolet’s Nova advertising attempts in Latin America. In Spanish, no va means “no go” or “it doesn’t go.” According to Paul, there was a billboard in Columbia with this advertisement.  For Spanish speakers, the joke was on Chevy: who would invest in a car that advertises itself as a “no go”?
Chevy Nova

The conversation then moved to other multinational companies trying to localize. I told him about studying in China, and learning of Coca-Cola’s marketing story in China. Initially, Coke translated its name into Chinese as “Bite the tadpole” and tried to sell its soda to the Chinese market.  The Coke Company was going for a phonetic translation that matched the sound of the company name. That was their mistake, because the translation did not make the drink sound appealing or satisfying to customers in China. They later decided to compromise: they scrapped the old name, and found a better translation. Now, instead of “Bite the Tadpole,” the Coke product translates to “happiness in the mouth.” 
Coka-Cola Ads in China




In the end, Paul and I agreed that localization is a difficult step for multinational companies. If a company is going to risk tapping into foreign markets, getting to know the language, culture, and customs are important. 
After all, what is a group of people without their culture, their language, their history, and their traditions?