Vignettes of the World
From what I gathered, the broad religious orientations within the Jewish communities in Israel are orthodox, reformed, messianic, and secular. Jews aside, other people of Palestinian and Arab descents also live in Israel with their own religious affiliations. Our tour guide in Israel was an …
The last stop before Jordan River was St. Peter’s home, and we also saw the ruins of a synagogue adjacent to it. The statue of Apostle Peter holds a key and a live fish swims at his feet. The key symbolizes St. Peter’s office as …
Due to the historic influence by the Romans and the Greeks in this area, my Latin learning in Ovid has prepared me for this trip in unexpected ways. The Temple of Pan was one such example. Like other ruins, the Temple of Pan (Banias as the Arabs had no “p” in their pronunciation) used to be a thriving civilization. The grotto was a site of pagan worship as Pan is the half-human, half-goat rustic god that plays the reed pipe in Greek mythology. Now there is a hiker trail in the area that, given another visit, I would very much love to do.
Mount Hermon would be the coldest site we visited on this trip. Being the highest mountain in Israel, Mount Hermon has streams flowing from the depths of its height throughout the land of milk and honey. The three springs at the foot of the mountain form the Dan, Hermon (Banias) and Senir tributaries, which are the headwaters of the Jordan River.[1] The river then flows throughout Israel to end at the Dead Sea.
The lift up the mountain was, strictly speaking, for the skiers. It should not be called a cable car. The ride to the mountaintop took ten minutes. I watched as we ascended with my feet dangling in the air. There was no cover on the lift and I was glad I brought my ear muffs.
Once at the top we saw a sign denoting that we had entered a military zone. There was a military vehicle coming out from the ranges. I wondered what military zone it was.
We first gathered to read the memorial tablet describing the six-day war in 1973 between the Israelis and the Syrians over the Golan Heights. The Israeli won and seized this part of Mount Hermon, which bore high strategic value. This would be the part that hovers over the Sea of Galilee, which is a main source of fresh water in Israel even now. It goes without saying that, because water from Hermon form the three original streams that flow to Jordan River, there is need to safeguard this strategic locale as well.
The tour guide then told us that this “military zone” means the border with Syria. That excited me more so than Mount Hermon’s Biblical significance (Psalm 133). It would be the closest I get to Syria in this life.
Lunch at Peter’s Fish brought me an experience that harkened back to the New Testament times and remained well alive in Israel today. The Bible records only one instance where Jesus cooked. He grilled fish for the disciples after his resurrection (John 21). There were a few choices available at the restaurant and I opted for the barbecued fish. I ate happily and at the same time savored the view of Galilee and its shore.
The Galilee and its town Tiberia was my favorite place in Israel. Both stood witness to Jesus’ miracles and ministry. Their authenticity is not being questioned, unlike many of the other religious sites in the area. The Galilee lived up to its name as a fresh water lake. There was a certain quality of calm and quiet. Being surrounded by the Golan Heights, the Galilee seemed bound and tamed. It was almost unimaginable that once there were storms, which Jesus calmed (Matthew 8; Mark 4; Luke 8).
As a lifeline for Israel, the Galilee supplied 40% of the fresh water that the Israelis consumed. Upon hearing that, an image appeared in my mind, of Galilee turned into a dry, fissure land. A drought withered life away from the water that was standing pristine and content before me. It would be a nightmare, I thought then. At a later time, our translator told me that the Muslims had a prophecy, “the day that the Galilee runs dry, it would be the beginning of the end of time.”
[1] See the Wikipedia entry on the area known as Caesaria Philippi and mentioned as such in the New Testament.
“Shalom!” I witnessed my father’s first act in Israel, and it was brilliant. We entered Israel via a land route from Jordan. As we crossed the border over to Israel, two Israeli soldiers came on board to check the bus. The two men carried a …
“Most of the events in the Old Testament took place in Jordan,” our Jordanian tour guide said. At dinner on my first night in Jordan I fell in love with the creamy, nutty flavored hummus and helped myself with two, three servings. By then, I knew …
I have never seen so much sand in my life.
The wonderful aerial views of the United Arab Emirates greeted me in a variety of forms: first a coastline, then what seemed like ranges of barren hills. Finally it was all sands in vast and endless deserts. Swathes of sand make up the whole terrain with only an occasional tarmac road dividing it.
As the plane landed, I saw a progression of human settlements, in what seemed like scarce villages, to what may have been industrial complexes, then an amazing view of a well-planned city-scape. A reality set in the midst of a desert was unimaginable to me. The barren appearance gave a deceiving impression, for the treasure that lied beneath this land has enabled wealth that benefited generations.
In 2015 I visited the UAE, Jordan and Israel for the first time. Frankly, I had no understanding of Middle-eastern culture, let alone the nuances between the middle-eastern nations. I did not know how to conduct myself in the hotel. Do I freely give out friendly smiles or do I purposefully frown at people?
The answer came my way. An Indian couple came into the elevator, and I felt awkward immediately as the Indian man was staring at me. He said, “have we met before?” I said I did not think so. He said how did you know? I said well because I have not seen you before. He then said, are you from China? I said yes. Then in Cantonese he said, “the New Territories!” No joke, I let out the heartiest laugh ever. He gave me a high five and his wife giggled nonstop.
I figured that friendliness was valued anywhere in the world. Genuine interactions knew no gender or culture.
It so happened that the UAE celebrated its 44th national holiday on the day of my arrival there. I received a very nice packet of dried dates as the guest at the hotel, wrapped in printed paper showing the national colors of the UAE and Dubai’s famous skyline.
The national flag of the UAE features four colors. Red represents the passionate desert people. Green represents hope. White is purity. Black is the poverty before the oil was discovered in the UAE. Of course, now that oil was discovered and has brought enormous wealth upon Dubai in particular, the black no longer represents poverty but its very opposite. The flag was designed by a primary school student.
We only had time for a quick tour in Dubai. We visited the palace of the Dubai Emirate and a natural wetland that gave home to migratory flamingo’s. Our way at the palace was blocked very far out from the building, and we could not reach close enough for a vantage point to see the architecture. Because it was still serving as the seat of government, it was out of bounds for tourists. The buildings were grand, however, surely striking a very favorable impression showcasing Dubai’s wealth and development.
The skyline of Dubai was consisted of buildings designed by famous architects, thus each of the building could be considered an experimentation of the architect’s creative and technical genius. Dubai prided the tallest building in the world, and it took $100 USD to go up that building. Due to high rental rates, many office space at these buildings were actually vacant. The Dubai Emirate could not care less, as the proud skyline of the most open city in the Middle East was for show, mostly.
I had dinner alone that evening close to the hotel. I ordered a beef donner kebab at a German chain restaurant. A soft pita wrapped around a hearty portion of veal and plentiful cabbage and cream. To this day I savor the taste of that first donner kebab I had in Dubai.
Back in the hotel room I heard the chanting of evening prayers in a male’s TV-anchor voice. It was said twice. It certainly sounded exotic to the foreign ear. I was unmistakably placed in an Arabic time and place.
By Paul French “Even the Albanians described North Korea as an ‘unbelievably closed society.’”[i] Famine, credit default, constant blackouts, economic collapse, failed piecemeal reforms, nuclear weapons, repression – the indicators of a failed state are no longer hidden from the world now, despite North …
By Han Kang Ah, what a surprise. I thought this would be a lighthearted and fun book about a Korean woman who decided to turn vegetarian in a culture where meat is consumed as much as air is breathed. As it turned out, not only …
On my last full day in South Korea, I booked a 1st class room at a hotel in Incheon, as I was hoping to see the MacArthur Landing. Once I checked in the hotel, however, I realized that I would be going backward on my journey. I thus decided to check out the islands instead. There was no taxi at the hotel, and that was the first sign that I would owe it to pure luck if I eventually made it to Muuido.
At the bus stop I knew only one word, Jamjindo, the pronunciation of which I picked up from the hotel concierge. I tried my luck with the bus. The line 233 came by and I asked the driver. He told me, “no jamjindo!” Then out of nowhere a Korean man chimed in, “Jamjindo, go to airport and change.” So I took 223 at the other direction and changed at the airport. At the airport, bus 306 and the driver dropped me off on a main road. It was not a populated area, seeming like there were just many huge warehouses around. There was hardly ever any water to be seen, moreover. People were pointing me to different directions, and I wasted much time trying to find the island, or any sights of water.
Only upon arrival and seeing the sign in Hanja did I learn that Muuido meant the Island of the Dancing Dress. The beautiful name strengthened my resolve. I must see it. Eventually, I found the tourist information center. I was told that, first of all, I was already at Jamjindo, and secondly the last ferry would leave Muiido at 6pm. It was already 4:15pm then. I hopped on the ferry at 4:45pm, there was little time but I was assured that I would certainly see Muuido.
The long bridge to the Muiido wharf was very picturesque. There were many pleasing sights of a rural South Korea that gave me peace, sceneries that one would have to make a special effort to see in South Korea. It was a rustic and menial life that was tied to the ocean. I saw people working with their own hands with sea catch. They immersed half their body in that bitter cold water to dock their fishing boats, unloading the rewards of their hard work, of fish and harvested oysters. Women carried goods on top of their heads, slowly walking through that mile-long bridge.
Once at Muuido, I rushed through the paths hoping to see the main attraction: the Silmido Islet, off of the beach. Although I saw few souls on my way, signs of the seafaring life were readily felt. There were many fish hung on wooden poles, salted and dried for preservation. I breathed in the fresh air freely, taking in the distinctive smell of seafood. It was tranquil despite the pain in both of my strained knees. I was hungry and I went into a restaurant wanting octopus pancakes. The owner did not understand me and so I left without eating.
I continued to rush through the island, but after a rigorous hike up to Silmido Resort I was told that it was high tide so I would not be able to walk to the Islet. Nor would I make it in time to see the sunset at the beach. The advice was to make the journey back right away, otherwise I would miss the last ferry altogether.
On my way back I noticed a small path, and I decided to check it out. There I saw the sunset and the islet on a vista point. I spent exactly four minutes at the spot and hurried down the hill, limping on my way. It seemed like in every turn I took there was no end. Finally, I saw the ferry docked at the wharf and I made it back to civilization.
In the second day of my journal I said that I wanted to spa on my last day in South Korea. Instead I went to Muuido with my bad knees acting up and limping. No regrets though, who could pass up the rare opportunity to see a different aspect of Asia’s soul?
I had dinner close to the airport at a strip with many restaurants to choose from. At that time I had enough money for a pork bulgogi. As I was dining alone, the owner invited me over to join them for their meal. I declined food, but accepted the soju. I heard the waitress say “one thousand dollars” in Mandarin, and we started a conversation. She was from Changchun, Dongbei in China. Just two years working in South Korea and she could speak Korean. Although I did not understand what they were saying at the table, it was a big, happy, warm family.
I left the cold of South Korea the next day with the warmth of its people lingering in my heart.
The Jackfruit Festival of Kwong Ban Tin Village in Tsuen Wan has become a popular event amongst the Hong Kong locals as a family-friendly occasion to celebrate the jackfruit harvest in the fall each year. In October 2016, I went there to learn the story …