Tag Archives: Jeju

Navigating

6
Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Education, Family, impediments, Inspiration, Matters of Faith, Personal Values, Service Activities, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

October 6,2024, Manila- The day started and ended with rain. Thus, the nice picnic devotional we had planned for late morning became an indoor affair. I brought chicken fillets, topped with dinakdakan sauce. Kathy and her male cousin contributed a rather good pizza. Others brought a regional variation on pancit- a generic Tagalog name for noodles. There was also a seaweed dish, brought by one of the young men. I have been a fan of seaweed since the days we lived in Jeju, Korea. It is a powerhouse of nutrients. I will describe dinakdakan, which I find tasty, upon request. (No, it is not made from insects).

The afternoon was spent in study of aspects of Huquq’u’llah, which I have discussed in earlier posts (see especially Sept. 16, 2024). It was not dry and intense-no Filipino would sit through such boredom for long, but it was done with attention and focus. Kathy knows what she’s doing, especially when it comes to academic presentation of financial matters. I was honoured to sit at her right-hand side and contribute a fair amount to the discussion. Much of it was in Tagalog, but I had everyone’s attention when offering thoughts in English.

Towards the end of the meeting, K’s cousin pressed me to extend my stay- “permanently”. She and I exchanged knowing glances, smiled and I said I would need to go back to the U.S., for six months. There are several things needing attention at Home Base, in Carson City and back East-not excluding the possibility of time in the Southeast, given this year’s sudden explosion of hurricane energy-shades of 2005. Brief visits to San Diego and Jalisco are likely in February, and I will want to get to Massachusetts and Pennsylvania, in April.

So, we have pretty much agreed on a May return. How “permanent” will be influenced by things like the birth of one or more grandchildren-still to be determined, BTW. Today, though, I learned that any mixed signals I may have sensed, over the past day or so, were mainly in my mind. This beautiful, compassionate, intelligent woman, whose friendship I am so privileged to secure, is for real.

Eastbound and Back, Day 31: Cave of Wonders

2
Posted by on in animal and plant life, Assistance, children, Community, Hiking and Nature, Historical, Inspiration, Personal goals, Personal Values, service, Social, Spiritual, Striving, Travel

May 29, 2024, Dickson, TN- The little girl saw an elephant, a red horse, octopus suction cups, a jellyfish, as our party of six visitors and two guides walked along the cavern path. We all saw the ghost of George Washington, a Persian palace, various wooden ships, Lover’s Lane, Dante’s Inferno and a grand ballroom, within the confines of the southern sector of Grand Caverns.

This is the vacation part of my journey. In between family visits and days of service, I am in the Southland, taking in natural wonders of this incredible cavern system and, in the days to come, a few historic sites. The guides, Lily and Malachi, are fonts of knowledge about this system, only half of which is open to general tours, with another 1/3 available for an “Adventure Tour” package-which I would consider on a different visit, if a certain someone is interested in coming along. Time will tell.

The day started nicely, with a light breakfast at Broad Porch Coffee House, the latest successor to beloved and sorely-missed Artful Dodger. The counter staff have the same bright energy and sweet disposition that Jasmin (not her real name) had, ten years ago. Maybe it’s the feng shui of the place.

Leaving Harrisonburg, I noted a sign for the little town of Grottoes, which intrigued me enough to turn off and head east on the small Virginia highway. Grottoes have fascinated me since the days when one was able to visit the three waterfalls of Jeju, Korea. (Those waterfalls have since been expropriated by a Chinese businessman, who uses their water for his own ends.) The name of the Virginia town is drawn from Grand Caverns, discovered serendipitously by a curious teenager, in 1804. The caves became a tourist attraction, shortly thereafter, and remain so to this day, the oldest show caves in the United States.

Lily explained, without editorial comment, that both Stonewall Jackson and Union officer Dixon Miles had brought their men into the caverns, at various times. No battle was fought in the caves, though there was a skirmish on Cave Hill, above the labyrinthine system. (Dixon Miles is remembered for planning to surrender Harpers Ferry, but died before he could do so. Stonewall Jackson, of course, ended up being shot and killed by one of his own men, in what was officially called “a case of mistaken identity”.)

Here are some scenes of the caverns. For perspective, the guides explained, note that stalactites (ceiling-based) and stalagmites (floor-based) grow at a rate of 3 cubic inches a year. The collective term for these formations, and for any other cave formation, is speleothem. That includes all the animals that the girl saw, and the ghost of George.

The Elephant
The Hitching Post

After this incredible seventy-minutes, I thanked the guides profusely, then headed over to a food truck, parked on the south side of Grottoes’ town center. El Carreton offers fabulous north Mexican fare, from the unassuming vehicle. Enjoying half of the burrito especial, I savoured equally the serene emptiness of a town, whose residents were mostly at work elsewhere.

The Ghost of George Washington
Reflecting Pool
End of the Line

Down through the Spine of Virginia, and across Tennessee, I did not stop at my customary refuge. It was not a good time for a visit. So, positioning myself for tomorrow’s long-delayed exploration of Shiloh, I stopped for the night at this western anchor of I-840, the southern Nashville by-pass. Music City has much to draw me in, but this time is intended for other pursuits.

Ecosynthesis

2
Posted by on in Assistance, collaborating, Community, Historical, impediments, Personal Values, Social, Striving

March 10, 2022- I read this evening that a property owner in our downtown area wants to build a six-story hotel, across from the Courthouse. The lines are drawn, in the public sphere, between those who think it’s high time modern architecture takes over and those who value the sense of history. Interestingly, but not surprisingly, the members of the former group are about evenly split between Prescott natives and transplants from other parts of the country. The latter group includes more transplants from urban areas, signaling that many people come here specifically for the Old West ambiance and the surrounding natural beauty. Many Prescott natives seem to take these features for granted, saying that one can’t eat or pay bills with history and nature.

Other communities, across the country, and across the globe, have taken this stance: Salem, MA has opted for high rise apartment buildings near downtown, the likes of which would be not out of place in several areas of Manhattan, or any number of European cities. Flagstaff and Tempe, in the name of “student housing”, have built large residential complexes in what had been rather charming neighbourhoods. Jeju, Korea, where we lived from 1987-1992, was virtually unrecognizable, when I revisited in 2019. It’s said that higher density is more efficient-and better for business.

I get a much more positive sense from striking a balance. History, even that which is only from the last century, is crucial to our sense of continuity, to our identity. Those who have been following this site since its inception know also that I favour well-tended natural settings. Nature teaches us the importance of balance and recognizing the interplay between serenity and dynamism. I am gratified that our City Council is oriented towards sensible growth, and has worked to protect a significant area of the Granite Dells, north of downtown. Likewise, the bulk of Prescott National Forest is being safeguarded from wildcat development.

On balance, history and nature do generate income and can co-exist with industrial and technological pursuits, given responsible use of zoning. I call this state of affair ecosynthesis.

Their New Beginning

9
Posted by on in Family, Inspiration, Personal Values, Social, Spiritual, Travel

March 10, 2019, Guangju-

This city was once best known as place of uprising- against a second-level military regime, in the Spring of 1980.  Although the uprising was initially quashed, its target, President Chun Doo-hwan, never gained the level of power and stability he wanted, and eventually stepped down, on the last day of 1988.

Today, Guang-joo is a more peaceful place and was the scene of the consecration of the marriage of Aram Boivin and Yunhee Shin, my son and daughter-in-law.  Now they have established themselves as  a full-fledged unit.  At the nicely-appointed Sangmoo Ritz Wedding Hall, a reverent blend of Baha’i scripture and tasteful musical selections made for a lovely hour-long ceremony, cementing what was set in motion with their civil wedding, last November in Guam, which, being an American Territory, provided the U.S. marriage license that will just make things easier, when it comes time for them to return to the U.S.

20190310_110716

I gave a short speech, as father of the groom, but otherwise submitted to the instructions of the wedding planner, photographer and master of ceremonies,  I did get in a few photographs, prior to the ceremony.

20190310_110922

The above has Yunhee’s name written in Hangul (Korean script), with her family name first, then her given name.  The names of us parents are written above.

20190310_111039

The flower arrangements are from well-wishers. Below are random photos of Yunhee and Aram, in the lobby of the wedding hall.

20190310_120257

20190310_120543

Another milestone has passed, yet with it, the duties of a father-in-law, and God willing, those of a grandparent, will fall to me. My family has now been extended across the Pacific and I have a feeling the blessings far outweigh the burdens.  We will enjoy the rest of this fine week together- tomorrow with Yunhee’s parents and the remainder of the week, divided between Busan and Jeju, the place of Aram’s birth and a well-established resort community.

“He Was At Home Here”

6
Posted by on in Community, Family, Matters of Faith, Social, Spiritual, Striving

May 6, 2017, Cottonwood-

There was a magnificent scrum of motor vehicles, and drivers, when I arrived at the parking lot of Taco Don’s, and took my place in the rapidly forming motorcade.  The hearse and family cars were followed by the motorcycles, then the classic cars (Jayme was a car buff, being from eastern LA County) and us friends and admirers, taking up the caboose end.

We set out ahead of time, and had cleared Prescott, by the time we were originally supposed to leave.  Some stragglers caught up with us, on Highway 89A, and passed ahead, to get to their designated spots.  By the time we reached Jerome, and wended our way through the “ghost town’s” streets, everything was in perfect order.  Jerome, like much of the Central Highlands, is in full bloom.  Here are some lupines, that graced our view.

20170506_124051[1]

We reached Immaculate Conception Catholic Church, on the northwest side of Cottonwood, with 30 minutes to spare.  I was pleasantly surprised to see that the church’s cross-street neighbour had set up two golden Dol Harubangul (Korean “stone grandfathers”, the symbol of Jeju, where we lived from 1986-92).  This was very much something that Jayme would have found wildly amusing.  As the statues are usually black volcanic rock, this was definitely a nod to the area’s mining culture.

20170506_112636[1]

Immaculate Conception is a spacious, majestic parish church- almost cathedralesque, in size and airiness.  The celebrant priest, also a friend of Jayme’s, noted that the man “felt at home here”, making frequent trips over the mountain, on Sunday mornings, perhaps because of the exhilaration one feels, when going through the pines, and along Jerome’s streets.  The church felt quite homelike for us, this morning, with a robust celebration of Jayme’s relationship with his Lord and an outpouring of love, from his family and closest friends.

20170506_111520[1]

20170506_111530[1]

 

The exquisite service left me chastened, as funerals so often do.  I thought, once more, of my own ongoing mission, knowing that being there for others, something that Jayme Salazar did so well, and at which I am improving, is imperative.  We will all gather again, in his memory, on May 20, for a Fiesta Grande, at Prescott’s Watson Lake Park.  I promised his dearest friend that I would be there early and leave late.

One other nice touch- when I stopped for lunch, at Colt Grill, in Old Cottonwood, the soundtrack featured Mike and The Mechanics’ “The Living Years” and REM’s “Everybody Hurts”.  The Universe always speaks clearly.

“If you don’t give up and don’t give in, you may just be okay.” – Mike Rutherford

“Hold on”.- Michael Stipe

Selective, or Snooty?

6
Posted by on in Community, distraction issues, impediments, Inner Struggles, Personal Values, Social, Striving

April 24, 2017, Prescott- 

It’s no deep secret that I have issues with those who build walls of snobbery around themselves. I’ve found them everywhere, from my home town of Saugus,  to Jeju, Korea, and to my present home base of Prescott.

Usually, snobs rely on “isms”, to validate their choices.  There are those who fall back on their self-perceived intelligence, while forgetting that the late George Plimpton, and others, routinely ridiculed their insolence.  There are others, “hipsters”, who brag about their sense of aesthetics, overlooking the beauty of simplicity.  Money, status in the community, and a misperceived “racial purity” are other sources of walls. Even in small communities, and communities of colour, subgroups operate to either maintain a false sense of superiority or to ingratiate themselves with those in power.  Seventeen years ago, a woman spread filth about my family and me, in a small desert community.  She had arrived  ten years earlier, from Ohio.  Here in Prescott, another individual, an attendant at a local fitness center, turns her head, sharply and disdainfully, whenever anyone over the age of forty approaches.

I have my own sense of selectivity.  I stay clear of fast food restaurants, many chain stores, and most Big Box establishments.  There is no shortage of people who would cry “Snoot”, at this information, and perhaps they’re right.  I do not, however, treat others with disdain, based on age, physical appearance,  mannerisms,perceived intelligence level, economic status or skin pigmentation.  Even the snobs get a fair hearing.

I have made the observation that fear is behind most snobbery.  If the wall-builders would stop and take several deep breaths, perhaps they would realize that nothing of consequence would befall them, were they to open the blinds, and take off the blinders.

The Mists of Jindo

2
Posted by on in Personal goals, Social

Park Jee-yung dropped out of college, and went to work on a Korean domestic ferry, when her father passed on, two years ago.  It’s what Korean children do for their families, in the Confucian tradition of filial piety. Two weeks ago,  Miss Park found herself, along with nearly 400 other young people and 75 elders, on an ill-fated journey to Jeju, Korea’s holiday mecca, some 60 miles off the southwest tip of the Korean Peninsula.  This journey entailed sailing from a port in the Seoul area, and thus a potentially treacherous voyage through countless areas of rock and reef.  The story of how the journey ended is gradually unfolding:  Essentially, an inexperienced and unconfident helmsman, scarcely more than a child herself, lost her way and the ship foundered into a mess of rocks.  It’s not certain where the ship’s captain was during this time, but it is notable that he left the ship while most of his passengers remained aboard, and the ship was going inexorably down.

Park Jee-yung stayed with the teenagers, going as many places on board as time allowed, finding life vests for her younger charges and trying to get as many on board life rafts as she could.  Survivors reported that Miss Park repeatedly refused to leave the ship, saying it was the crew’s duty, and thus hers, to be the last to leave. So it went- for her, and possibly other crewmates, though not for the senior ship officials.  This has become de rigeur, in recent years, for the crews of troubled vessels, but I digress.

I lived in Korea, on Jeju, for 5 1/2 years.  The vast majority of the people I met were like Park Jee-yung- bright, organized, and self-effacing.  I can only imagine the horror that has engulfed this blessed nation, whose traditions dictate that a people move forward together, that the needs of the whole trump the whims of the parts, that children mind their elders, without question.

So it went, that horrific day.  The aging ship’s captain issued an order to the students on board to stay in their cabins.  A few rowdy boys chose to challenge that order and went on deck, saw what was happening and, rallying some of their schoolmates, managed to get on board the life vessels and to safety.  One of them was the first to issue a distress call to the mainland.  These were among the people helped by Park Jee-yun.

There is much to admire about Korean society.  Few nations could have risen out of the ashes of war, largely on their own, as South Korea has.  Shoulder to shoulder, Koreans have seen what was needed, and brought it about.  Now it is time to take stock of the price of fragmentation- nearly 160 dead, as I write this, and hundreds more still missing.  I sit here, in the comfort of an American home, and feel only grief and sorrow.  So many beautiful souls, who could have only elevated life in their city of Ansan, and beyond, now sit at the Throne of the God of us all, and wait to see just how they might comfort those who miss them so grievously.

Let Korea continue to move forward as an entity, with the caveat that sometimes, many times, the voices of the rambunctious need to be heard. The gadflies among us frequently see things the masses overlook, and their warnings, however irritating at the get-go, turn out to be what save the day.  Cassandra was not altogether insane.

Rest in peace, beautiful friends, and  may the nation you left too soon regroup, restore its sense of balance and move forward, in unison.