Worldbuilding: Folk of the Boundaries

Some people make a living out of living on the edge. Between the sea and inland; between the estuary and the river; between the desert and the last green grazing land. Living on the edge takes specific skills and attention to detail. But if you have those skills, you can make a living those dwelling well away from the edge can’t.

This can make for interesting lives, and even more interesting stories.

One of the most intriguing edges, of course, is the boundary between two or more cultures. This may or may not be two or more countries. Nomads tend to have mobile nations, and ships from anywhere might show up in a seaport that still belongs solidly to one country….

Maybe.

Some places are a bit edgier than others. Especially seaports, or other major trading centers. Trade happens because people want things they don’t have. When that level of “want” gets to Country A eyeing specific things Country B has, people living on the edge between can get a bit… squeezed.

All kinds of things can happen on a boundary. Crime, espionage, cultural adaptation and adoption. Those last are intriguing, because they can go multiple different directions at once. Cultures may blend into each other, as people from both sides work together, gripe together, and maybe marry and raise families. Or there may be staunch little OurTowns, where people are far more fiercely Culture A than anyone “back home” - in part so they’re not suspected of being a spy for Culture B. Or possibly both in different social settings; acting like A when you’re around A-natives, B with B-natives, and some odd mix when safe at home. Assuming home is safe. Floods, droughts, and other natural disasters can be somewhat prepared for, but you can never be quite sure when another human will start wondering, whose side are you really on?

An example I’ve looked at lately is Tsushima Island; usually claimed as part of Japan, but about midway between Kyushu and the Korean peninsula. The island’s mostly mountains without good farmland, making trade critically important. And trade they did, through centuries of wars, pirates, shogunal politics, Ming and Qing upheaval, and invasions from either China or Japan.

Part of how they made it work was forgery.

No, really. For example, after Hideyoshi invaded Korea, things were understandably tense. Everyone wanted trade restarted; silver from Japan, silk from China, and ginseng from Korea being three of the big items. Yet nobody was going to make the diplomatic first move of sending a letter apologizing for the war. Because that would mean losing face.

So Lord Sō Yoshitoshi of Tsushima forged one, from the Tokugawa shogun to the king of Korea.

Aaaand it snowballed from there. Opening letters. Closing letters. Seals. Side notes. Tsushima and Korea’s Japanese interpreters forged them all, going both ways. Nobody officially noticed, trade restarted, Tsushima and Korean traders prospered.

It worked (as it apparently had in the past under the Ashitaga shoguns, huh), but if it’d been made public, all kinds of trouble could have landed on Tsushima’s doorstep. Apparently that did happen at least once in the 1630s, with a Sō lord going on trial and suffering penalties from the Tokugawa. (Though not fatal ones.) But one of the reasons it worked is that forging the shogun’s and Korean king’s own seals and diplomatic messages was such a blatant abuse of What You Don’t Do that most people couldn’t believe someone would actually doit.

Take this into account. People of border areas may be seen as shifty and untrustworthy by more conventional members of their culture. With good reason.

If you have nations in your world, or even city-states, you’re going to have borders and boundaries. Read up on how they work. Truth can be even stranger than fiction!

Note: Some info gleaned from Japanese-Korean Relations during the Tokugawa Period, a paper by Kazui Tashiro.