Shift
Text and photos by Mailé Nguyen, ETA 2018–19 Perhaps I traveled to Taiwan for closure—a proper goodbye. To remind myself of what I wasn’t missing. Or perhaps my convoluted reasoning had led me to believe I could find reconciliation with someone from my past. I had come to Taipei alone. I prefer solo travel for self-reflection, and my first semester in Korea weighed me with plenty of thoughts to pick through. Even in a city as busy as Taipei, it’s easy to find peace if you know where to look. I found myself drawn to parks. Though it was January, Taipei was still warm, and the greenery was thriving. For me, walking through a park is the most effective form of meditation. I am able to turn off my swarming thoughts and simply observe the people and scenery, or I can revel in my anonymity and let my mind wander. I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t in Taipei for anyone but myself. I had made a plan to visit Taiwan and I was simply following through. But my plans to come to Taipei had held a different weight months earlier, and it was that recognition that colored my thoughts and my solitude. As I wandered through parks and night markets, I caught myself looking for someone. A person I could easily pick from the hive of black hair and olive skin. I had originally planned to meet them in the city, but that felt like lifetimes ago. I didn’t want to find them, but I kept looking. Get a grip, I chanted at myself again and again, as the intrusive thoughts continued to buzz. The next day, I fled to Jiufen. The old town was an hour bus ride north of Taipei, and I was able to lose myself in the rainy Taiwanese landscape. It was still raining when I got to Jiufen. I was grateful for the metaphorical splash of water to the face, to bring me to my senses. The rain and subsequent fog added to the town’s mystery and intrigue. Jiufen’s jagged labyrinth of winding walkways offered much to explore. I didn’t mind hitting the dead ends or getting tangled at intersections. I let the old town rattle me in its streets. I hazily drifted to Jiufen’s main attraction—a large tea house adorned with crimson lanterns. Supposedly, the tea house was Hayao Miyazaki’s inspiration when designing Spirited Away. The teahouse’s whimsy was only heightened by the ominous fog. The host led me to a table on the balcony while I waited for my tea. I sat in silence and absorbed my surroundings. When my tea came, I tried to follow the waitresses’ preparation instructions, but was admittedly perplexed by the plethora of pots in front of me. Despite my confusion, I quickly entered a similar meditative mindset as when I was walking in the park. The scene could not have been more perfectly set—a rainy day, sipping hot tea under a roofed balcony overlooking the foggy Taiwanese mountains. I was utterly alone. Suddenly, I found peace with myself. I acknowledged the incessant swarm of thoughts, and let them become a passing hum. I stopped looking outward and started feeling inward. I took another sip of my tea, self-assured that my life was my own and no one else’s. I had found reconciliation.
Into Africa
Text and photos by Nathan Stables, ETA 2017–19 Surmounting Kilimanjaro, one of the world’s seven summits and the tallest mountain on the African continent, cemented that travel experiences are not all sunny beaches and lazy afternoon cocktails after a day of being herded around on tours. Travel is a luxury, but while traveling we are able to test our limits and our ability to thrive in harsh and unfamiliar environments. This past January when I started the trip in Africa, I learned things that contradicted my preconceived notions about Kenya and Africa. Nairobi is green and lush, a byproduct of the altitude, surrounding mountains, and precipitation there. I’d grown up picturing Africa as a large desert or vast savannah, but Nairobi reminds me of a tropical spot like Panamá (where I briefly lived) and has more nature preserves than where I live now in Cheongju. The second thing made me feel extremely ignorant but Kenya, like Tanzania and Zambia, is a former British colony and so the majority of Kenyans speak Swahili and English. Though I should’ve known that, I was surprised that I had less of a communication barrier there than I do in Korea. My friend David, who invited me, planned the trip primarily to raise money and awareness for a non-profit he co-founded, Crater Creations. David inspired us to fundraise for projects like educating the Kisharu youth and starting local businesses and we were fortunate to meet the individuals that are working to further development in the community. Climbing Kilimanjaro was the main draw for people to join the trip, but interacting with Kisharu was just as special. Kisharu is just one community of the Maasai ethnic group. The Maasai people are scattered across Kenya and northern Tanzania and live a nomadic lifestyle; there are an estimated 850,000 to 1.5 million Maasai people but the total cannot be determined definitively. We learned from Daniel, a prominent member of Kisharu who speaks English, Maa (the local language), and Swahili fluently, that Maasai are highly respected. After a few days, we left Kisharu for Tanzania, full of hope that Crater Creations will make a huge impact in the future and that the climb of Mt. Kilimanjaro would go smoothly. When planning the ascent, we chose an eight-day climb (six days up and two down) over let’s say a five-day climb to maximize acclimation time to the altitude and to enjoy the beautiful mountain scenery. Our group of ten climbers was accompanied by 28 others including: three guides, two cooks, and porters to carry the tents and larger bags. That might sound like overkill, but it’s a big part of Tanzania’s economy and tourists coming to hike Kilimanjaro provides jobs for many local people. Some days were shorter, while some days were long and grueling. Climbing Kilimanjaro felt like we were traveling through different lands, the base of the mountain more tropical jungle and the peak a bleak winter snow scape. The first few days were just a few hours of hiking each, culminating in 13 hours of hiking (including reaching the summit) on the penultimate day. As we went higher and higher, we felt the rush of almost being at the top of the world. Reaching the peak after hours of mental anguish (we left from base camp at 12 a.m. and finally arrived at the peak at 6:30 a.m.) and possibly slight dehydration delirium, we were blessed with the views of a lifetime. The peak was still overcast, but the sunrise began to peek gently through and the sunrays were sparkling even brighter above the cloud horizon. I wasn’t just happy to survive the morning trek from hell, but I felt whole in that moment and very connected to the Earth and my own body. My biggest takeaway from this trip was the pureness of feeling utterly alive at the top of a mountain at dawn, having gotten there by persevering through the fatigue and not distracted by daily worries. After interacting so intimately with Kisharu and our Kilimanjaro guides, I had a newfound appreciation for what it means to be a good traveler. I realized that my favorite moments have always been adventurous and spontaneous and that travel is the perfect platform to seek out these opportunities while also giving back to the local communities you’re visiting.
The Dream Team
Text and photos by Caby Styers, ETA 2018–19 This winter I was able to travel to Taiwan for one week with two really good friends. It was during this trip that I realized the importance of choosing the people you travel with and being there for each other when situations do not go as planned. Our trip started out with a rough patch when one of my friends realized on our bus to Mokpo that she had left her cell phone in a taxi that morning. We both live in Suncheon, in the southern part of Korea, and we were traveling to Mokpo, another city to the east of us. In Korea, there is no stopping buses when they are driving to other cities, so we rode the two hours to Mokpo, and then returned to Suncheon that same day and were able to find the phone. We finally rode back again to Mokpo to meet our friend before going to Taiwan, six hours after our first bus ride. My friend and I were a little tired and dispirited, but at the end of the day we were able to joke about it and move forward with our trip. The next day, the three of us took our flight to Taiwan. We were about to exchange our money at the airport when my other friend couldn’t find her wallet. We couldn’t believe something like this could happen again. We looked on the airplane, asked airport staff, and searched everywhere to find it. But we were not as lucky this time. While my friend not having her wallet was a constant stresser for her on our travels, we were able to help her and pump her up the rest of our trip. By giving her time and space to process the problem and her anxiety, and then being there for her to help strategize what to do next, we were able to help relieve some of her stress and enjoy the trip despite the complications. Losing valuable items became a daily joke as we asked, “Do we have everything?” before and after taking any transportation. Actually, we were able to save our phones twice this way. Finally, later in the trip, we traveled outside of Taipei to a very famous street called Jiufen. Jiufen is famous because it was the inspiration for the movie Spirited Away. There are hundreds of shops and tea houses in this area. After exploring this street, we tried to get to a waterfall in the late afternoon for a change of pace, however, we ended up getting lost on a creepy trail. As it was about to rain, we were walking by abandoned houses, a man chopping wood, and a lonesome, loud power generator. As the trail became darker, we became more lost, and more isolated from the rest of the world. I began to have a panic attack, but my friends, even though they were scared too, were able to help me through it. We were able to make it back and laugh about it on the way home. In the end, this was one of the most stressful trips I have been on, and I don’t think I will be able to go on a trip anytime soon without panicking about where my phone and wallet are. However, it was also really fun and memorable, because I went with friends that handled and adapted to stressful situations in a similar way that I do. Thinking back, I am surprised that we handled everything so well, and it was because we were able to be there for each other, each of us stepped up during the trip to lead the group. Ending the evening in laughter and jokes, despite the challenges of the day, was one of the many great memories from that trip.