Vignettes of the World
Although in principle the soldiers in the DMZ did not bear arms (therefore they were all black belts in martial arts) there had been armed confrontations at the DMZ. There was the Axe Incident, where 2 UN commanders were killed when the UN side tried …
“There ain’t no D in the DMZ.”[1] It was a privilege for those from the West to be able to see the DMZ and Panmunjom via a U.S. tour organized by the USO. If I kept my Hong Kong identity, I could not have gone. …
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 of the village and its people.
The villagers set up a bazaar at the community square to welcome visitors. They offered delicious foods, many of which featured the jackfruit. I tried a very simple sticky rice wrapped in jackfruit with lettuce and it was refreshing. The sticky rice was a perfect match with the natural sweetness of ripe jackfruit, and the lettuce gave the texture a crisp that was a pleasant surprise. There was also jackfruit with chicken, which was creative, rich with sweetness and delicious.
The Kwong Ban Tin Village used to be a squatter settlement. Most of its residents were refugees and immigrants from China and the long-time residents came mostly during the 1950s. There were about 200 families in the village. Many were seniors, and some were new immigrants from China. In the past, villagers raised pigs, chickens, and ducks for food. Now the only animals that could be seen were the dogs and cats that the villagers kept as pets.
A resident Sam told visitors about his childhood in Kwong Ban Tin Village. About 50 years ago when he was a child, there were no jackfruit trees in the village. The village was just like any other, and people raised livestock for a living. He would play war games throughout the hills with a group of friends. Other entertainment were marbles and cartoon cards. He said he used to dig yam as well.
The natural question was, then how did the village earn its fame for jackfruit?
I learned from the newspapers that the villagers simply put the seeds of the jackfruits into the soil after eating them. They never thought that the trees would grow. The seeds sown in the 1970s blossomed into trees, its fruits drawing hundreds of visitors each year to the village now.
It was the first time I saw jackfruit trees. To be able to carry such a heavy fruit (the jackfruit is the heaviest tree-born fruit in the world), these trees were naturally very tall with a large trunk. Mr. Yim showed us how to pick a ripe jackfruit. He said we should look for large bumps on the surface of the skin. Then gently pat the fruit, if it is soft, that means it is ripe. He would climb up two stories on the tree to pick the jackfruits.
Apparently, of the few decades that the jackfruit trees were growing, these large fruits have never fallen and injured anyone in the village. That itself was really quite amazing to me.
I saw people at the walking tour dressing in spacesuits. The villagers also kept hive colonies for honey. Indeed, the village has preserved the natural environ that was still suitable for some farming activities today. Besides the jackfruit trees, the village also prides in its bananas, papayas and starfruits. Mr. Yim told me that he still used water from the stream for washing. Other villagers told me fascinating stories of their lives as new arrivals in Hong Kong during the 1950s. While the jackfruit might have sown an unintended fortune for the village, its people remain as authentic as ever in living through Hong Kong’s struggles well before my time.
To visit the Kwong Ban Tin Village, take a taxi from Tsuen Wan MTR station. The taxi should drop off close to the community center. Do watch out for newspaper or facebook announcements for the date of the Jackfruit Festival each year, sometime around October. For 2018, it will be held Sunday, October 7.
Yun-hak, the young man that I met on the plane, rather insisted that I saw the Gyeongbokgung Palace. Although that was not what the Lonely Planet recommended, I went because a Korean native told me to. Once I was there, however, I began to understand …
On the first day of the Lunar New Year I spent much of the day celebrating the occasion with many other South Koreans at the Namsangol Hanok Village. I heard the word “gugak” spoken, and eventually figured that it was referring to the traditional dance …
Once outside of Seoul, the non-Korean-speaking tourists would be left to their own devices as to how they communicate with the Koreans and find their way around. That was Suwon to me.
In Hanja, Suwon means “the origin of water.” Suwon is the provincial capital of Gyeonggi-do, 48 km south of Seoul. There were really only two things to see there: the Korean Folk Village and a “faithfully restored fortress of Hwaseong” as described in the Lonely Planet. Regardless, it was a day trip worthwhile to make, as I had an adventure in learning the regional railway system of South Korea.
I had a bit of a trouble finding Suwon on the metro map. I learned that I had to change at Guro, and waited for at least 20 minutes for the train to Suwon. The whole ride took 1.5 hours and by the time I was there the last bus to the Folk Village has departed. I hopped on a taxi instead.
The Folk Village was nice in the sense that it was carefully landscaped and the winter scenery in the background gave it a wonderful appearance. On the edges of the roof were formed ice hanging down like stalactites. The houses showing the ancient village life of South Korea were cool, and I was thankful that many were heated, but after all they were constructed for tourism. I was pleased with some good pictures that I took, mainly of the winter scenery.
It was dusk hour when I finished at the folk village and I decided that I must eat before seeing the fortress. The driver finally found the restaurant that the Lonely Planet recommended but it was closed. I then went for a short walk at the fortress, and as said in the Lonely Planet, the 5.7km-long fortress was very nicely restored.
The fortress of Hwaseong was built between 1794 and 1796 during the reign of King Jeongjo of the famous Joseon Dynasty that I kept hearing about in the palaces of Seoul. It was also an effort to make Suwon the second capital city. There are four main gates, of which the Paldalmun was the most famous and a designated national treasure.[1] It almost felt like seeing the fortress of Xi’an, an ancient capital in China. The similarities notwithstanding, the fortress of Hwaseong was built with the best technology existing, “encompassing the strong points of both Asian and western elements.”[2]
Dusk has befallen and the cold was becoming unbearable. I was not quite able to communicate with anyone there, and indeed few were around at the eve of the Lunar New Year. I saw a restaurant open right across from the fortress. The easiest way to order was to point at what the other patrons were eating. I spent an hour savoring galbi, a full rack of grilled beef ribs. I was greeted with incredulous looks of the owner as I paid. I did eat a lot for a small-built Asian woman.
I took one last look at the Paldalmun as I was about to leave. It had a stately appearance at night hour as it glimmered under the floodlights.
I no longer remember how I made it back to Seoul that evening, as pretty much all of Asia was preparing for the Lunar New Year. Yet I did, in one piece and satisfied with the day’s excursion.
[1] Introduction of the fortress of Hwaseong, Joinusworld.org.
[2] Id.
The Qing Dynasty mansion known as Tai Fu Tai is a site that speaks to the local history in Hong Kong before the colonial times. Originally constructed as home to Man Chung-luen, the brick mansion showcases the honor bestowed on a senior Qing official. A …
“Seoul, the Soul of Asia” is quite a catchy characterization of Seoul. It is not my phrase, but it did inspire some curiosity in me. How was the soul of Asia like? To the extent possible, I explored Seoul on foot and by public transport. …
I met a young man on the plane to Korea. He told me that he has already completed his mandatory service in the military. “Mind the border,” he said, “it might be dangerous.”
Korea was the first solo trip I made abroad. Although this young man by the name of Yun-hak gave me his contact information, I was really quite determined to explore this new destination on my own. I booked a hostel close to the Sungkungkwan University. After I landed, bus 6011 took me to the station in an hour. I arrived at the Golden Pond Hostel with much anticipation.
I was in and out of slumber throughout the plane ride. This trip to Korea was an escape from the stress and fatigue from work. As soon as I landed, the piercing cold woke me up. My mind became immediately aware. The sights were somewhat familiar: neon-lit streets busy with pedestrians, with myriad storefronts competing for the shoppers’ attention.
The Golden Pond Hostel was run by an English speaking Korean family. I walked in and heard people speaking American English. I was shown my bedroom, it was a very small single, enough only for a single bed and a writing desk. It felt like sleeping in a third class cabin in a ship. I was very pleased however. I walked barefooted on the heated floor, as the small room allowing just a few paces back and forth, I felt fully its warmth, symbolically and literally. The living quarter had a big kitchen, and that was assuring as I would have to mind a few meals on my own during the first couple days of the Lunar New Year celebration, when many restaurants would close.
Came dinner time and I was ready to explore the vicinity. Even my wool pants would not do in this cold, so I changed into my ski pants. I went into a family-run restaurant, and could not read anything on the menu. It was then that I realized that my years of spending lots of money on the Korean restaurants in America has taught me some survival skills. I said, “soon-du-bu” and voila, my favorite tofu stew magically appeared. I then noticed other patrons eating some steamed dumplings. I pointed and the waitress said, “pan-du!” She was fierce, and I knew why. She thought I was Korean American who did not speak Korean, and that was hardly blameless in Korea.
I knew little of the dining etiquette in Korean culture, but I knew that they had metal bowls because they consider holding the rice bowl with hands impolite, and this is quite unlike the custom in China. I kept mine on the table at all times, so not to offend the fierce waitress further.
I thought a piece of warm clothing was in order. Amongst a scarf, a knitted beanie and ear muffs, I went for the ear muffs. Good choice.
By Nic Dunlop Tuol Svay Prey, the district in Phnom Penh where the prison is located, roughly translates as “The Hill of the Poison Fruit Tree” Tuol means hillock. Sleng is also the name of a tree with extremely poisonous fruit.[i] In this …