Silkworm Doom: I had no idea.

On my birthday, Nick flew to the US for his brother's wedding. Ah, well; on my birthday last year I was flying to Korea. I did get to see David and Elisabeth in a skit about a traditional Korean folk story (see a separate blog); have lunch and visit a new pottery shop with Korean-American friend Grace, where we admired many traditional forms of plates, bowls, platters, etc.; and had coffee and visited Jukdo Market with Australian friend Tracey. This last visit prompts today's blog.

I have been to Jukdo's enormous open-air market several times before (see here and here, for examples), so I was not surprised by the tanks of creeping crabs or writhing eels; the elderly lady vigorously chopping off fish heads on her mid-aisle push-cart, flinging droplets from her giant knife onto nearby merchandise (thanks to CSI for the concept of "castoff"); the neatly-stacked piles of produce; the men on scooters flying down the crowded aisles. Nope - generally not surprised. But then we found something new, which later research showed to be rather horrifying.

Now, Tracey had decided this would be an EXCELLENT opportunity to make me practice my Korean. "Alma yay yo?" I was forced to ask to learn the price of items. Asking wasn't as bad as having them answer, because it takes me so long to figure out what they're saying. Tracey stood by, poking me along with her grin and comments to the shopowner (in Korean) like "She is studying Korean." They laughed. She's a horrible woman, really. 

 
After getting some potatoes, onions, and t-something-root (the edible root of the bellflower - campanella), we noticed a new shop/stand with caterpillars. Hundreds of pale white creatures about 3 inches long crawled over one another in a wooden box as they happily munched on leaves. Tracey suspected these were silkworms. Ooh! Silkworms! I felt a a wave of nostalgia for pleasant afternoons spent reading "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" to my kids; I vaguely recalled the care needed for these helpless creatures who thoughtfully provide us with astonishingly strong and beautiful silk. Ah, silkworm caterpillars! I have truly arrived in the Far East!



Upon inspection, however, we saw no sign of silk anywhere on, in, or near the crawling horde, and no colorful clothes or soft fabrics to indicate a silk business. Hmm. We began doubting our silkworm hypothesis and thus tried questioning the vendor, a middle-aged man who knew less English than your average bear. He waved toward some small bags of dark brown liquid, a cart with bowls of sticks and spices (?), and then to the small kitchen-like room behind him with shiny gadgets and clay kimchi pots (for traditional fermentation). Together, these suggested that the friendly caterpillars were intended for, ah, processing. Perhaps even for human consumption. Eew. My imagination, which really, really should have been stopped here, quickly connected the squirmy critters with the brown bagged liquid, and then jumped to the horrible vision of tomato hornworms being squashed underfoot like ketchup packets (I think I read that in a book - I hope, hope, hope I didn't actually see/hear someone do this) and then my imagination moved to the vile possibility of people scarfing down the resulting goo.

Great. Now I was looking at the wormy pile with a whole lot less romantic admiration and a whole lot more revulsion and a strong desire for Not Knowing More. Tracey, who apparently had not had any such vivid visions, thought we should take a picture of this unique shop's display. I reluctantly asked the man for permission, pointing first to my camera then to him and the caterpillars. He countered with a request for "mahn won" -- about $10. I laughed and said no, but he asked for a counter offer. Ah, bargaining. The only Korean money-word I could think of was "oh-bek won" (a 500-won coin I usually use for the dryer, worth about $0.50). He smiled and shook his head, but said "service!" and with one finger pointed to the box of squirming goo packets. Ah - we could take 1 picture for free! Tracey grabbed my camera, had me pose by the caterpillars, and snapped not 1 but 2 pictures. The man's mood thus shifted so we bowed and slipped away, still pondering the purpose of these voracious little creatures.

As you might suspect, I later asked my home-bound research assistant (perhaps you've met "Google"?) to explain what we'd seen. And I asked a Korean friend to translate the sign next to the shop (our 3rd picture, which I snuck in as we dashed away). She said she would do more research. Hmm. A few days later I asked my Korean tutor about the sign. After squirming and consulting her smart phone's dictionary, her face turned red as she said "Ah... it's about men... it's for sexual excitement. And there are dried frog legs in that basket behind the sign. I think they're good for your health." Of course they are.

And so, here is the education part of today's blog (sort of like CSI shows always have a "musical interlude" section in the lab). I shall keep it short but have thoughtfully included an Appendix for those dear readers who desire further distraction, extra credit, or homeschooling activities for restless children. We indeed had seen silkworms (the points Tracey gained for correct identification hardly made up for forcing me to speak Korean). Of the actual silk-making process, more later, as these particular critters were destined for another purpose altogether: to be transformed into "herbal remedies" (synonyms: traditional/Chinese/Korean; medicine/supplements/treatments). These remedies appear have three kinds of desirable effects on humans:
(a) reduce phlegm (perhaps necessary in a culture where men smoke so much?),

(b) reduce gas (my favorite description was "dispels wind and settles down fright"), and

(c) enhance male virility. Oh boy. Silkworms are Korean Viagra. More eew.

Momentarily forgetting my earlier vision of squirting ketchup packets, I wanted to know HOW these hungry caterpillars became, well, fart medicine, among other things. From what I can tell, there are two methods. (Warning: both of these make livestock slaughter in Iowa seem almost reverential). Some sites suggest a "liquid extract" process but are silent about exactly how a living creature's liquids get extracted. Other sites describe a fungus/fermenting process. First, your silkworm guy injects/infects the creatures with a disease called white muscardine. As it turns out, this is an "entomopathogenic fungus" that slowly kills its insect or spider host while developing its "fruit" - a mushroomy thing that grows out of the body (perhaps you've heard of the mushroom/supplement Cordyceps? Yup--same thing. See more in the Appendix, below). This disease is a nightmare. I found pictures online. Here they are. I'm sorry.

Evil fungus growing out of a bee, a now-headless-fly, and a tarantula.  Truly horrible.

Cross-section of a silkworm with its deadly
parasitic fungus (source).

Ok, deep breath. These poor hungry caterpillars were doomed to become liquid or fungal remedies for human farts, phlegm, and male insecurity. Eric Carle didn't give me a clue about this possible ending to his beloved children's book.

So, what about silk production? Could I have valiently set these critters free to become happy butterflies? As any child knows, the once-hungry caterpillar spins itself a cocoon from whence it begins that marvelous miracle of turning into a beautiful...STOP. Unhappily, Google destoyed my innocence and over-informed me yet again. These caterpillars, on the very cusp of butterfly adulthood in their homemade, silky-soft bungalows, are unceremoniously dumped into boiling water (ok, maybe there's a ceremony. What do I know?). I learned that people don't just "unwind" the cocoons or wait until the butterflies emerge to harvest the silk (FYI: my ignorance isn't completely my fault. Many educational sites skip right over the ugly bits of silk production: see here and here and here). Oh, no, the boiling cocoon treatment definitely kills the proto-butterfly but does provide a side benefit of snacktime fun for Asians (see below) in addition to loosening the silk for mechanical unwinding and spinning. If you waited until a butterfly left the cocoon, it would break the silk (which doesn't suit people's needs), so it's killed before it emerges. Thus, silk collection is more like mink fur harvesting than chicken egg collection or alpaca wool harvesting. It's butterfly murder it what it is.

Can you imagine these signs at an anti-silk rally?  Yeah, me neither.

Ok, ok, dear reader. It's surely not the same as plunging a cute furry creature into boiling water, but it's still a creature for which I admittedly have (had!) all-too-romantic notions. And I can't imagine any resulting social outrage against silk as there has been against the wearing of fur, but still. I had no idea. I'm so sorry. I'm a gardener and bird-watcher and butterfly-lover. This was distressing news. 

 
Butterfly murder. Quite a memorable birthday.

Appendix (a.k.a. info for readers actually interested in learning more about silkworms):

(a) Now, boiled silkworms as snackfood? Indeed. Boiled silkworms are common among Korean street vendors and are attractively packaged at the grocery store and the ubiquitous 7-11 stores. We got a sidedish of them at a traditional Korean dinner a couple of weeks ago. I could not - NOT - bear to eat it, so I stabbed one with my chopstick, waved it around out of eyesight while talking about some banal subject, and popped it into my mouth before I could think about it. The closest I can come to describing it is a boiled hazelnut. Kind of chewy and nutty. And then my imagination turned back on and I knew that I could not trick myself into eating any more. Ever. (If you want to know more about the silkworm as healthy snack from a British perspective, see this article.)

(b) Maybe you've seen or bought Cordyceps as an herbal supplement? White muscardine is the disease inflicted on silkworms that creates the cordyceps fungus; clearly, the clever marketers only depict part of the mushroom story on the packages.

: 

Where the cordyceps fungus really comes from.  Eew.

We're missing about half of the "activated mushrooms" in these pictures.

(c) References:

Click here for more about White Muscardine. 

For more on the process of infecting silkworms,check out this academic article from the National Institute of Health. 

 If you'd like more about silkworm-based-medicine, here are 3 useful-ish sites:

(a) Silkworm Extract Benefits

(b) ActiveHerb™ Jiang Can Product Details

(c) Jiang Can (Silkworm): Chinese Herbal Medicine