Twenty years ago Hu Jung-hua's news- paper column "Roving the World on a Bike," reporting on his solo world cycle tour, marked the beginning of a growing interest in travel and exploration in Taiwan. But much further back in history, when hunters followed the tracks of wild beasts on the savannas, farmers extended their fields deep into the forests, and traders followed ancient trails over mountain passes, humans were explorers too; simply to survive in the everyday struggle with nature, they swallowed their fears and pressed bravely ahead.
Aside from the perils of daily life, the great exploits of history that are worthy of the name "exploration" were highly focused in their goals. Tang-dynasty monk Xuanzang's 17-year quest for Buddhist scriptures in India, Genghis Khan's long westward campaign to take Khwarazm, or the "voyages of discovery" of Zheng He in the late 14th century and the Spanish and Portuguese in the 15th, were daring adventures that reaped rich rewards and inspired many to follow after.
Risk-taking and adventure brought human footsteps to every corner of the earth. But it was only when humans no longer needed to brave danger for the sake of fame or fortune that the trend for another kind of "exploration," in search of the exotic and the beautiful, really began to arise.
How do we define an explorer? Perhaps as someone who sees a quiet, safe life as a waste of time, and regularity and normality as a death knell-who wants to live out this short life with the greatest possible vigor. Their urge to seek out excitement, overcome fear and take on challenges is so strong that after climbing Mt. Everest they will want to set off for the poles, or after emerging from a rainforest they will wish to cross a desert. Like photographer Makalu Gau: less than five years after losing all his fingers and toes to frostbite on the summit of Everest, he returned there again! For them, it does not matter what the challenge is, nor whether they succeed or fail-the sense of achievement in taking on the challenge is everything.
Why should this be? For most people, who would rather spend their holidays watching TV in their air-conditioned homes, "exploration" is something distant and incomprehensible. But when we see a child's joy at taking its first unsteady steps, and then its eagerness to stamp in puddles, climb sandpiles and chase dogs and cats, we know that adventure and exploration are instinctive dreams of humankind. However, after a few beatings for the scrapes they get into when walking on two feet, people grow more and more accustomed to living within defined boundaries, and no longer dare to cross them.
Looking at things from this perspective only heightens our respect for today's explorers. On the one hand, they have not let their adventurous instincts be suppressed, and on the other, they have the courage to turn their dreams into reality. To complete their expeditions they must undergo great trials of physical endurance, learn survival techniques, plan meticulously, work together as a team, and have tremendous self-confidence and self-discipline. Exploration is the ultimate expression of determination and perseverance.
In fact we all have dreams, but too many people's dreams remain just that, for they never have the courage to try them out. Why? Out of fear-fear of hardship, fear of failure, fear of danger, fear of losing everything they now have and not being able to find that unknown thing they seek; or even the fear that once they find it they will be disappointed and disillusioned.
To turn dreams into reality takes the courage-as taught by Zen Buddhism-to "shake off the burden of worry." To realize their dreams, many explorers quit their jobs and reduce their material needs to a minimum. Once they set off on their expeditions, they have to strip away, layer by layer, their need for comfort and safety; eat two or even one meal a day instead of three; exchange a soft bed for a sleeping bag on a mountainside; and walk, with 30 kilos of gear on their back, until their skin is in tatters, their mind is empty, and a mouthful of water tastes like nectar. Then at last they know how simple life can be, that anything that is more than they need is a burden, that luxury, fame and fortune are all illusions-so why not just let them go?
In the themes of Sinorama's cover stories over the last few months-from young people's dreams, Yushan, the cultural and creative industries, and creativity education, to this month's feature on Taiwanese explorers-we have tried to take a broader perspective in looking for the true meaning of life. It seems that in all these areas, the common elements that emerge are self-confidence and trust in others, innovation and courage, and tolerance and love. What vision of an ideal life do you bear in your own heart?