Category: My Sabbatical Spring 1997 part 2 Korea, China and SE Asia

Reminiscences 2025

There were places I wanted to go on my “sabbatical tour” in Southeast Asia that David and I visited after jumping off the May Term bus.  That included Kuala Lumpur, whose train station we had stopped at in January, and Indonesia. One of the goals for me for this part of my sabbatical was to meet with Scouters–and I did.

Kuala Lumpur is a reasonably recent city, located at the site of a gold discovery in the late 19th century.  Though the government has moved to nearby Putrajaya,  KL is still the business center of Malaysia

Continuing my interest in Scouting around the world, David and I met with Eric Khoo, the International Commissioner, in Malaysia.  We had a wonderful dinner in a restaurant of his choice, and I later found a neckerchief he had contributed to the museum for BP in Kenya!

Indonesia was a challenge because there was a contested election occurring. We consulted the State Department about going, but got nothing definite.

We went anyway on Garuda Airlines.  The first day, the election, was really quiet.  Essentially, everything was shut down, and we could go anywhere, which was a novelty, believe me.  Traffic in Jakarta usually resembled traffic in Los Angeles.  We spent some time with the Scout headquarter staff, who took us to their camp. At one point, they sat us down in a cabin, and, it being Friday, went to the mosque for midday prayers.

Unlike any other Scout organization, Indonesia uses  a coconut seed instead of the compass trefoil.  The coconut symbolizes toughness and adaptability, fitting for the world’s largest Scout organization.  It’s a school-based activity, but also had an important and not forgotten role in the war for independence from the Dutch.

We took the train to Yogyakarta, passing through the flat and fertile fields of Java.  The city is considered the cultural center of Indonesia.  It has two well-known ruins of earlier days (Prambanan, a Hindu shrine, and the restored Buddhist masterpiece, Borobudur), and is the only kingdom left in Indonesia.  During the Revolusi (the war of independence), Yogyakarta was the rebel capital.  We saw all three of the sites, but what was really memorable was meeting Scouts.  We went to their meeting place–where they drew water from well!

One amusing incident.  An enterprising youngster approached us and told us he collected foreign money:  “Could you give me some for my collection?” I was moved to assist the numismatist.

From Jogja, we flew to Bali, the Hindu island amid the Muslim sea that is Indonesia.  Its beaches are famous (and full of Aussies, who live close by), but the cultural features are quite distinct.  David and I had a tour, and I remember going through a village where our guide talked about how it had once been Chinese dominant.  A pogrom in the l960s had significantly reduced that ethnic minority.  Being Christian or Buddhist, Chinese, and relatively wealthy had and has attracted hostility.  In fact, as I recall, because of the election and suspected violence, some Chinese tour groups cancelled their proposed visits.

Fortunately, for us, the tranquility promised was what was delivered.  Given a choice, I’d go to Bali over Hawaii.

It was also a chance to stop in Manila, partly to complete my tour of Scout visits.  I recall that the Scout uniform was as close to mine in the 50s as I’d seen since the 50s, but then I remembered that the Philippines had been an American colony since the Spanish-American War (and the insurrection that followed it).  It was the most “American” country we visited–with baseball scores, among other left over Americanisms.   The jitneys were colorful ways to get around, but Manila still bore the earmarks of the brutal battles for the city in World War II.  Makati City was where the new skyscrapers were.

And then it was time to come home, a three month journey. I wonder if I still have a room on Fell Avenue?

Reminiscences 2025

Like riding an on-off bus, I jumped on the May Term bus in Beijing, joining familiar faces in familiar places–China and South East Asia, and getting off the bus and joining David for further exploration of SE Asia.

The trip might have resulted in the most IWU faculty in Asia at one time, since the trip leaders were Jerry Olson, Dave Willis, and Zhen-hu Jin.  And me.  It was, however, done in reverse from the usual Asia trip, which duplicated many traditional journeys, where you wound up eventually in Beijing with an audience with the Emperor.  This trip started in Beijing and eventually ended in SE Asia.

The Forbidden City.  The Great Wall.  Arthur Anderson (Willis and Olson were, after all, accountants).  A few memories:  the countdown clock in Tiananmen Square, ticking down on the “handover” of Hong Kong; Amber Kujath and others catching me with my pants (legs) down on the Great Wall. The zip offs, discovered initially at Banana Republic and used at Philmont in 1987 have become stock in trade for me. Shorts when needed, long pants when not.

Given my interest in history (my dissertation, after all, was on Americans in China and US foreign policy in the 20s and 30s), the Legation Quarter always fascinated me.  It was, in a sense, another Forbidden City in the early 20th century, a refuge from the turmoil of China (and the attacks during the Boxer uprising).  Many of the buildings remain, including the entrance to the old Japanese Legation.  Several trips I had guides take us through the old area to get a sense of what life had been like; today, the embassies are housed in a new area in more modern facilities–but still closely guarded.

Hong Kong.  Always a welcome place to eat, shop, and sightsee.  On this trip, I arranged a visit to City University of Hong Kong, which my  friend Eleanor hosted.  And of course, the Peak is a visual treat. 

From there, it was on to Bangkok.  And the usual glitter of the Palace grounds and area.  There  was  also  the  trip  to  the  former  capital,  Ayudhya,  the  ruins  a reminder  that similar  religions  did  not  make  the  Siamese  and  Thais  best  friends.  The  destruction  caused  Thais  to  move  the  capital to  Bangkok.

This was my time to get off the bus, and with David, get to KL and Indonesia.

Reminiscences 2025

I had time between the end of my Korea ventures and the arrival of the IWU May Term trip that I planned to join.  What better way to spend it than to travel to Manchuria, once part of Korea (according to my Korean friends), and given to China as a reward for helping the Koreans fight off the Japanese centuries ago.

Besides, Harbin fascinated me, as the center of Russia interest and emigres following the Revolution.  Located at the junction of the Chinese Eastern Railroad (which cut straight through Manchuria to Vladivostok, shaving miles off following the Amur–I prefer Black Dragon River, the Chinese name–which is the border) and what had been the South Manchurian Railroad, straight to Port Arthur and the rest of China.

I landed in Harbin, ready to stay at the somewhat seedy old colonial hotel, the Modern.  I realized how seedy it was when a lady of the day (and probably night) approached me.  “You speak English,” she asked?  “Yes.” ” I want to learn English, can I come to your room? Where are you staying?” I told her the Modern, at which point she pouted, and told me that when I stayed at a good hotel…..I wonder if she ever learned English.

Harbin had a certain Russian charm; though the emigres who flocked there in the 20s and 30s are long gone, some buildings remain to mark the past; Russian being perhaps the most important and lasting.   A small town ballooned up by its prominence as the headquarters of the Chinese Eastern and South Manchurian Railroads, and its proximity to Russia.  At one time there were an estimated 400,000 Russians in Harbin.  Japanese occupation followed.  Then Soviet conquest and a year under Soviet rule (which meant many white Russians were deported or fled elsewhere).  What’s left was the old train station, a magnificent church (now restored from its use as a stable during the Cultural Revolution), the Sungari waterfront, and a street full of buildings from another era.

I learned early traveling in China to find someone going where you were going, too.  Since most announcements are unintelligible, it helped to stay near a person who had better command of Chinese.  That may be how I managed to get from Harbin to Shenyang, which used to be Mukden in the old days. I had a long day there, which was a holiday.

Shenyang was a treat, with a “Forbidden City” on a human scale.  Apparently, the Manchu’s practiced before 1644 what it would be like to rule China, and built a Manchu-type palace area that had some adaptations.  It was exciting to find a docent who could understand my Chinese as we bantered about the best looking Phoenix (empress).  The tombs of the first Manchu emperors were here, rather than in Beijing, and I believe I also saw the headquarters of Zhang Tsuo-lin, the long-time warlord of Manchuria.

A crisis erupted when I realized that I was supposed to pick up tickets to get to Beijing–but the agency was closed for the holiday.  When I went to the train station, I somehow negotiated the purchase of a hard sleeper ticket to Beijing, where I would join my IWU colleagues.  Getting on the train, I realized I had an evening booked on the top bunk (of 3) in a compartment where I was the only English speaker. When I remembered that I had sought “adventure,” I realized one should be careful about what one asks.

When I woke up again, I was in Beijing, ready to rejoin more familiar faces in more familiar places.  But no longer an Imperial Manchu.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reminiscences 2025

The second part of my sabbatical was conceived as an opportunity to work in China (the better to tell my international business classes about being an expatriate).  I talked with my contacts at Motorola about the possibility or working in Beijing or Tianjin and had some positive feedback, which would combine a job with some time to travel.  That fell when the Asian financial crisis erupted.

Looking for a way to spend time in Asia, I learned that the local Rotary was sending four non-Rotarians in an exchange with a chapter in Korea.  I had some connection with the interviewers in Champaign, and wound up being selected.  That meant nearly a month in Korea, staying with Rotarians, mostly in their homes, in an area based in Gumi.  That meant little time in Seoul and more time in smaller towns, including Kyongju, Taegu, and Andong.

There were four non-Rotarians led by a Rotarian who was a professor at Eastern Illinois.   Three others were from Champaign-Urbana, Paul Adams and Jen-Jen.  Paul was returning “home.”  He was a Korean-American product of the Korean War (American father, Korean mother) who had been adopted by the Adams family.  The Adams were among the first missionaries to arrive in Korea (Methodists, who divided the country with the Presbyterians, I believe).  His grandfather had founded one of the universities in Taegu, so he was something of a celebrity on our trip.  He was also a skilled cook, and one night when we had been left alone, introduced me to chapchae (sweet potato noodles) that have become one of my favorite Korean dishes.

We were mostly hosted by Rotarians, however, living in their apartments, and like them, sleeping on a heated floor that resembled the homes they had in the countryside, which had fireplaces and in effect chimneys under the floor.  We stayed one holiday weekend in a farmhouse (two cows in the garage) when our host returned to his family homestead.  Grampa got up in the night to restart the fire.  As was true in Korea, young people had fled to Seoul and there was no longer a school in the area.

What else do I remember from that trip over 20 years ago?  Confucius was still alive in this country in several senses.  We were there in May, and the national exams were coming up that would essential determine their future. Korea has one of the highest expenditures for additional education, and several of our host’s children begged off playing or conversing to study.

The lesson was reinforced when we went to a university in Andong, a second-tier school.  The students complained that they were unable to get jobs with the chaebols, who interviewed only students from tier one schools.

We got a great introduction to Korean nationalism.  We were in an area that had been invaded by Japan in ancient days.  There were reminders of those battles and several shrines, including a temple that was featured on one of the Korean bills.  The results of 40 years of Japanese occupation were still evident in our hosts–the lingering taste of being treated as inferiors.

One other sign of national pride.  We went to visit with the first Ford dealer in Seoul, but on the streets, the cars were Hyundai or Kia or Daewoo.  Nary a Toyota.  I was so impressed with the cars that I bought and proudly drove a Hyundai wagon.

It is always fun for me to spend time in Kyongju, which was also in our district.  The remaining mounds and ruins such as the observatory are reminders of the Silla Kingdom and the inheritance of many Chinese cultural features from the Tang dynasty, subsequently passed on to their Japanese neighbors.  How powerful was Chinese culture: Confucius, Buddhism, imperial splendor, language–borrowed and transformed, but still apparent.

We were an excuse to entertain, which meant eat, drink, and sing karaoke. Our song was “Stand By Me,” and we got passable at it, easily enough with the repetition.  As for drinking, soju is powerful, but our hosts must have been in practice.  I never saw so much booze consumed–and yet people were able to function the next day.  We were a good excuse for kalbi and pulgogi every day, with the ubiquitous sides including kimchee.  Sometimes we ate sitting on the floor, Korean style, and I bet I still have kimchi stains on my pants as a result.

A cell phone was not only a necessity, but a fashion item, colored to go with apparel.  No wonder I learned to say,  “Anyang haseo.”  I still remember one fellow talking on two cellphones at the same time.  Now that’s ambidextrous.

It was also cherry blossom time, and the industrial giant that is Gumi was cloaked in white, camouflaged and gracefully hidden.  I would not recognize it a few years later when the cherry trees were barren.  But for a few weeks, it was bathed in beauty.