Issue 1. I-Land: From Island to Ice-land

Sea, Sun, Snow, and Self

In India, it’s common to pronounce the ‘s’ in "island”. Thus “island” becomes “is-land” and transfers the auditory meaning of the word from a place to a philosophical musing.

“Is she ready to leave this land”, one part asks of another.

“Is this a realm of what is or of what isn’t?”, inquires my psyche as it tries to peer into the days of future past.

Phú Quốc: Island

Last week, sandwiched between our departure from two years of covid living in the Vietnamese capital Ha Noi and the ancient nation of Georgia in Eurasia’s Caucasus region, lay a visit to the paradise Vietnamese island of Phú Quốc (PQ).

This tropical wonderland in the Gulf of Thailand is true to its name: ‘Phú’ means ‘fertile land’ and ‘Quốc’ refers to ‘nation’. Known alternatively as Pearl Island, the Island of 99 Mountains, and Emerald Island, the 50x25km landmass is home to lush forests and surrounded by an ocean teeming with life.

But to me it’s symbolic as a reminder of Vietnamese resilience.

During the 1780s and 1790s, 15-year-old Gia Long (Nguyễn Phúc Ánh), the first Emperor under the Nguyễn dynasty (as a unified Vietnamese monarchy), hid in PQ to escape persecution by the opposing Tây Sơn dynasty.

Between 1953 and 1975, PQ’s claim to faith was Phú Quốc Prison, which played host to the largest prisoner camp in South Vietnam. The prison, built by French colonialists in 1949–1950 for political dissidence detention, in 1973 the prison housed 40,000 Viet Cong and North Vietnamese soldiers.

Considering the impact my visit to Ha Noi’s Hỏa Lò Prison (aka HaNoi Hilton to American POWs) had on me years ago, I decided to skip a visit to Phú Quốc Prison due to the graphic torture techniques and devices used on prisoners during the Viet Nam War. It was a gruesome affair.

Despite the many tragedies that have befallen the country’s past, as of today - no matter what’s gone before - Viet Nam and her people once again, with their trademark fortitude and strength, once again stand tall.

In terms of countries as role models, Viet Nam is top of my list 🙌

Georgia: Ice-land

(Not an accurate reflection of how cold it is there, I just don’t generate body heat easily 😅)

Exchanging a balmy 30°C for 6°, Ha Noi’s 16° halfway house probably isn’t nearly enough to prepare me for The Big Freeze soon to befall my (sunny) South African constitution.

But it’s interesting to view Georgia’s (partially) icy landscape as symbolic. By moving to Europe, I’m transplanting myself from the African and Asian backdrops I’ve lived in over the course of my life ‘back’ to the continent of my Caucasian ancestors (which is a confusing word to use cos Caucasian = of European descent AND Caucasian = Peoples of the Caucasus). And this continental landscape - in terms of living there rather than merely pop in and out for business and pleasure - is as foreign to me as snow and ice is in winter.

As much as nothing about Georgian culture is familiar to me, somehow I feel more of a personal affinity with the culture than I did with any of the cultures I’ve lived in while in Asia. Something I’ll certainly be exploring as I use this newsletter to dig into life and times in Sakartvelo (which is how locals refer to the country).

Static Motion: I-Land

As I mused in the last edition of Excalicauldron when I introduced the idea of this newsletter focused specifically on my upcoming time in Georgia, life in Viet Nam has been multi-faceted:

“As we wrap up our temporary lives in Viet Nam, I celebrate, grieve, and lay to rest what has been. Simultaneously, I look forward to the prospect of a rich newness to infuse my life, that can only come from complete immersion in an entirely new culture.”

Multi-faceted, too, has been our lives on the road, ever since we started our digital nomad worldschooling journey in 2017. One of the top life-changing (for real) insights to come out of this unfolding of self and lifestyle has been the fact that there’s a ‘static’ I in the sense that I take me with wherever I go. Geographical cures are exciting temporary fixes, but unless there’s a timeless tranquility on the inside, there ain’t no long-lasting chance for peace on the outside, no matter how pretty the landscape or exotic the culture.

At the same time, starting afresh in a new country every few years is a state of perpetual forward motion that requires a strong foundational equilibrium to buffer against being cast adrift among waves of change. An inner landscape is required, one that lives in a universe where I’m both creatrix and inhabitant.

So as I enter this next phase in my lifestyle and my location, I go there not by plane, boat, or train, but by I-Land…shifting externally my internal lands from one living experience to another.

Till next week, when I’ll be writing you from Georgia! ⛰🌄