Category: Sigur Center 2018 Summer Fellows

Whenever friends, family, and perfect strangers ask me why I love Indonesia so much, I find myself seeking an answer as multifaceted as the country itself—a task that is, quite frankly, impossible. I frequently describe the kindness of the people, the towering volcanos and kaleidoscopic reefs, the enchanting playfulness of the language. At times like this—when I can’t explain my infatuation in a few sentences or even a few days—I realize that is the reason I love Indonesia so much: its diversity defies description, no matter how many years I spend trying.

I first came to Indonesia to work as a PADI Divemaster during a gap year before attending GW, and fell in love with the people, language, culture, and underwater world—knowing that each of these terms encompasses a diversity beyond knowing. There are over 8,000 inhabited islands, 300 languages, countless indigenous religions and belief systems, and thousands of coral and fish species. I have since spent just under a year in total in Indonesia, returning again and again, seeking to understand a place so impossible to describe, knowing I have only just scratched the surface.

The beginning of this summer in Indonesia provides a perfect example of the intoxicating complexity of this place. I decided to fly out a few weeks before the start of my language program, knowing that I was about to begin dive hours a day of intensive Bahasa Indonesia training for eight weeks. So naturally, I headed straight for the ocean. I spent several days in Bali for freediving training, in the sea each day till the sun set over the gently smoking Mt. Agung (which would soon spew its ash and cancel hundreds of flights), listening to the tinkling of traditional brass instruments mixing with the evening call to prayer. Days later, I flew to the Raja Ampat islands in West Papua, returning to one of my favorite places on earth to follow up on research I conducted in the region in 2017. From traditional dances to magically ordained soccer games, from birds of paradise to mating sharks, one would be hard-pressed to find a place with so much to see. In no time at all, I was on a flight to Java, the largest and most populous island in Indonesia, driving through winding roads surrounded by rice fields that quickly turned into crowded cities that seemed to have sprung suddenly from the earth.

Far from the ocean and the places and people I had grown to love so deeply, I felt—for the first time in the almost 11 months I had spent in total in Indonesia—entirely out of my element. During the drive from the airport to my new home, I began to feel nervous. As the sky grew dark and neon shop lights flickered to life along the city streets, we pulled into the driveway and I saw the house I would live in for the next eight weeks. My host mother came into view in the doorway, her smile immediate, as she exclaimed, “Chloe! Selamat datang ke Salatiga!” Welcome to Salatiga.

Indeed, in the weeks since my arrival, to say I feel welcome is perhaps an egregious understatement for the joy that is finding a new home in every corner of this magical country. And I have only just scratched the surface.

Chloe King B.A. International Affairs 2019
Sigur Center 2018 Asian Language Fellow
School for International Training Indonesia, COTI Summer Studies Program, Indonesia

Chloe King is a rising senior in the Elliot School, majoring in international affairs with minors in sustainability and geographic information systems. She spent seven months in Indonesia in 2017 as a Boren Scholar, researching NGO conservation initiatives in marine ecotourism destinations around the country. A PADI Divemaster, her passion for protecting the ocean keeps pulling her back to Indonesia and some of the most diverse—and threatened—marine ecosystems in the world. 

Taiwan is a must-come place for those interested in China. Upon arriving at Taiwan, I can’t help to be astonished by the closeness between Taiwan and mainland China in almost every important aspect of social life. The quiet and warm scenario of countryside reminded me of the villages of my hometown Zhejiang. The way in which people talk to children is also telling: on both sides of the strait the interactions with children is a means of education. On the train from Taoyuan Airport to Taipei city, my computer received the warm attention of a lovely boy with glasses, who obviously thought it was an advanced play station. When he tried to observe this wonderful machine more closely, however, his grandma came and told him that other people’s belongings should not be touched. Such educational experiences are very common for Chinese children in both mainland China and Taiwan, and similar patterns probably cannot be observed in other societies.

Another definitely impressing experience is my time at the National Palace Museum of Taipei. No one could deny that the Palace Museum is one of the best place to enjoy the beauty of China’s cultural heritage. From gorgeous jade and porcelain artwork, to the immensely fluent and dynamic calligraphy, and to the traditional Chinese paintings which are relatively static but of infinite transforming potential, I was deeply caught up by charm and appeal of the collections. Apart from its high aesthetic value, the exhibition is also an excellent source to sense the social, intellectual, and ideological world of traditional China.

On the other hand, Taiwan’s experiences of modern Chinese history were also very different from mainland China. Between 1895 and 1945, it was under the political control of the Japanese empire. After 1945, the KMT replaced Japan as the ruler of Taiwan. After 2000, the DPP and the KMT took power in turn. Such experiences determine that there are some perspectives and expertise in Taiwan that are not present in mainland China. For example, Taiwan’s scholarship on the KMT and the Nationalist army is generally of higher standards than that of mainland China. Moreover, the island’s cultural and social landscape is also deeply shaped by its history of immigrants and local inhabitants. The announcements on the Taipei city metro are made in four languages/dialects: Mandarin, English, Southern Fujian dialect and Hakka dialect.

Zhongtian Han, Ph.D. in History 2021
Sigur Center 2018 Summer Field Trip Fellow
Taipei, Taiwan

Zhongtian Han is a history Ph.D. student interested in modern East Asia and strategic studies. His research focuses on the strategic history of modern China and Japan.

Greetings from beautiful breezy, dry, cool Taipei!

Just kidding. At the beginning of summer, Taipei is beautiful but it is not breezy (unless a storm is imminent and you are standing in precisely the correct spot). With temperatures ranging in the mid-80s to mid-90s, it’s also far from cool. Umbrellas are ubiquitous throughout the city for the aforementioned exceedingly hot temperatures and for the always looming thunderstorms. I’m told that Taipei in August may be even more brutally hot but receives more washings from the frequent taiphoons. (I’m a huge fan of taiphoons as they used to come regularly in Hong Kong and allow a respite from work)

I’ve traveled to Taipei a number of times (humble brag: mostly for running marathons and half marathons) and each time I’ve been surprised by the lack of skyscrapers in this city as well as the general friendliness of people. It’s unsurprising why many Hong Kongers move here permanently and why so many people are utterly charmed by Taiwan.

In fact, I see Taipei as having far more in common with the calm and quiet of Kyoto than the hustle and bustle of Hong Kong. Perhaps this calm and quiescence is due to the oppressive heat, but I believe it is the spirit of Taiwan that has imbued the Taiwanese with a sense of serenity that is broken only by the constant grindings of scooters on the roads or the general busyness of Ximending.

I’m not sure if this suits me. As a born and bred salt of the earth American and naturalized Hong Konger, I’m accustomed to being busy and walking quickly to and fro regardless of my destination. Even after spring semester of graduate school – which could be arranged to fit next to the definition of busy in the Britannica Encyclopedia – I seek to be occupied by a task.

This morning, I became occupied by the Elephant Mountain hike, which allows hikers to sweat copiously in anticipation of an Instagram worthy photo of the Taipei 101. Luckily, the is a dearth of hiking around Taipei, which I hope to explore and a dearth of vegetarian restaurants to furnish such sweaty hikes. Until then, 再見!

Lexi Wong M.A. International Affairs 2019
Sigur Center 2018 Asian Language Fellow
National Taiwan Normal University, Taipei

Lexi Wong is a Sigur Center 2018 Asian Language Fellow studying Mandarin in Taipei, Taiwan at National Taiwan Normal University’s Mandarin Training Center. Lexi is currently a first-year graduate student at The George Washington University’s Elliott School of International Affairs where she is studying International Affairs with a regional concentration on Asia. 

June 12, 2018

I have now been in Taipei, Taiwan for a little more than a week. While I have finally acclimated to the time difference, I have a feeling the same will never be true regarding the weather. Nevertheless, I am incredibly grateful for this opportunity to spend a summer studying Chinese at National Taiwan University’s International Chinese Language Program (ICLP). Without the generous grant from the Sigur Center, I would likely never have had the chance again to devote so much of my time to improving my language abilities.

While most of the Asia policy world was focusing on the Trump-Kim summit in Singapore, another important change in U.S. policy towards East Asia was occurring in Taipei. I, along with scores of elderly Taiwanese avidly advocating for Taiwanese independence stood outside the new American Institute in Taiwan (AIT) complex for its dedication ceremony. While the ceremony itself was closed to the public, members of Taiwan’s Independence Party arrived by the bus load proudly waving their pan-green independence flags and American flags. As far as I could tell, I was the youngest participant by at least 40 years.

Seeing so many eager citizens declare their love for their own country and the U.S. instilled within me mixed emotions. It was heartwarming to see these elderly Taiwanese celebrating this perceived improvement in Taiwan-U.S. relations. Just thirty years ago, Taiwan was still authoritarian. The chance to peacefully petition their government would have been unthinkable decades ago. An elderly man screamed at a row of police that instead of retaliating, just stoically stood in place. Seeing such active participation in Taiwan’s nascent democracy was truly an incredible spectacle. Conversely, being aware of the immense political obstacles that prevent Taiwanese independence made me realize that they will likely never see what they most desire in their lifetimes.

The new AIT complex finally finished years behind schedule and cost more than $250 million USD. One can only wonder if it was a coincidence that the complex’s dedication ceremony fell on the same day when China and the rest of East Asia were so focused on the Trump-Kim summit. The truth is, the new complex does not signal increased U.S. support for Taiwan. Despite rumors that high ranking officials such as Mike Pompeo or John Bolton would attend the ceremony, a lower ranking official was sent instead. Ostensibly, the U.S. refrained from sending anyone too controversial to avoid upsetting China. Since Trump took office, however, the U.S. has done more vis-à-vis Taiwan than it had in the past fifteen years. Small steps like the Taiwan Travel Act and the opening of the new AIT compound may signify more changes to come during the Trump administration. It is incredibly exciting to have the opportunity to be on the ground in the heart of Taiwan during this time of change.

Alex Bierman, M.A. Security Policy Studies 2019
Sigur Center 2018 Asian Language Fellow
National Taiwan University, Taiwan

Alex Bierman is a M.A. candidate in Security Policy Studies focusing on East Asian security and cyber security. His interests include U.S. policy towards East Asia, Cross-Strait policy, and Chinese politics.

Researching the history of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and associated topics is inherently difficult. First and foremost, every historian of the CCP has to deal with the limited accessibility of archival materials in mainland China. When I began my research trip in Nanjing and at the Jiangsu Provincial Archive, I was surprised to learn that, in contrast to common perceptions, the sources for the revolutionary period (pre-1949) was even more strictly administered than the early PRC period (1950s). In the beginning, they would not allow me to see anything and there is even no archival fond catalog available for the revolutionary period (while there are plenty for early 1950s). After some detailed inquiry about my research topic and suggesting some published primary sources at the archive, I was finally allowed to see three archival fonds, for which I’m truly grateful.

In addition to the limited accessibility, the archivists later told me that during the 1950s, the CCP leadership ordered all materials related to the revolutionary period to be transferred from provincial archives to the central archives. Though the provincial archives certainly didn’t give up everything, there is indeed serious limitations on what scholars can get by using what was left at the provincial level.

Why is the revolutionary period so sensitive for the CCP? Some may suggest that the revolutionary period was violent. But the early PRC period also witnessed much violence such as the “suppressing counter-revolutionaries” campaign. The issue here is legitimacy. For the CCP, its victory in the revolutionary period an important source of its legitimacy. In the CCP’s jargon, its victory and ruling party status is “history’s choice” (lishi de xuanze) and “people’s choice” (renmin de xuanze). Therefore, the party would not allow those revisionist interpretations of the revolutionary period which might undermine its historical legitimacy. The CCP’s sensitivity is not misplaced. Even in mainland China, there are challenges to the party’s interpretations of the revolutionary period. Some suggest that the CCP didn’t fight the Japanese during the Sino-Japanese War (1937-1945), and others doubt the actuality of some revolutionary and anti-Japanese heroes. The party called these revisionist interpretations of the revolutionary period “historical nihilism” (lishi xuwuzhuyi). This particular political sensitivity of the revolutionary period should receive the attention of every responsible scholar in the field. It is the academic community’s responsibility to maintain high scholarly standards, especially for these sensitive topics.

Zhongtian Han, Ph.D. History 2021
Sigur Center Summer 2018 Field Research Grant Fellow
People’s Republic of China

Zhongtian Han is a history Ph.D. student interested in modern East Asia and strategic studies. His research focuses on the strategic history of modern China and Japan.