Trapped like a tourist

If there is one thing that Taiwanese are good at, it's setting traps for tourists. The formula is simple but deadly: first, create an attraction free of charge to bring in the hordes, then lure them into a web of food stands, souvenir stalls and carnival rides. Once ensnared, the helpless victims are slowly nickel-and-dimed to death, with wallets slowly being emptied as stomachs are filled with snack foods and sweetened drinks, and children are plied with toys and games. And all this is set to a soundtrack produced by thousands of people all milling about in the same shared space. If this sounds like your idea of an enjoyable Sunday outing, you'll love Taiwan. As for a cynical curmudgeon like myself, even I have to admit it can be fun...at times.

Today's tourist trap trip was to the "Floral Sea", the best way I can translate from the Mandarin "haihua" 花海, in the town of Hsinshe 新社. This was the same ocean of flowers that I had seen from my lofty perch in the mountains of Tak'eng back on Tuesday (you see the photograph here). At the time, I congratulated myself for not having gone there the previous weekend, when the crowds would have been thick, but today I wasn't laughing. My wife wanted to see the flowers, the weather was perfect (still warm for the end of November - you can't complain about sub-tropical climates), and so we battled the traffic for close to an hour before finally reaching a parking lot close to the entrance. Once inside, it was a long walk through the different flower fields to where the food action was (the real reason Pamela, and many of her compatriots, wanted to go there today!). The colors from the various sections of sunflowers, cosmos, begonias and many others were certainly pleasing to the eye:

My daughter took a few pictures, which have been posted on her blog. For a child's-eye perspective on the world of flora, go here or click on the "Amber's Photo Journal" link over on the right-side of this page.

I also made a short panorama from the middle of the flower fields. The mountains that can be seen in the distance at the end of the clip are the ones I often go hiking in on Tuesdays.

Even amid the flowers, there were people selling balloons, ice cream and soap for blowing bubbles. Amber's cheaply-made, but not cheaply-priced, Dora the Explorer balloon didn't last very long, but she didn't seem to mind. It was fun while it lasted:

At the end of the fields were the stalls - lots and lots of them, selling all manner of foods and drinks, plus farm produce and toys and trinkets for the kiddies. There were also carnival rides, and Amber enjoyed a spin on a merry-go-round before we sat down for lunch. But food was the main draw for the throngs walking about. Hsinshe's culinary claim to fame is deep fried mushrooms, which draw thousands to the area on weekends. They're very tasty - unfortunately the same couldn't be said for the greasy noodles I had as well:

Amber came away from the stall area the proud possessor of a traditional toy known called a "chuch'an", or "bamboo cicada" 竹蟬. When twirled around, it mimics the sound of a cicada, as Amber demonstrates:

After lunch, we walked around some more, with plenty of photo ops to be taken advantage of among the flowers, and in a nearby hay field, before returning to the car:

Unsurprisingly, traffic was slow on the drive back to Fengyuan 豐原, so we stopped in Shihkang 石岡 to visit a rice husking barn that dates from 1942. There wasn't much to see inside apart from some old hullers, but it was free, and with the exception of a very quiet cafe adjacent to the wooden building, devoid of any commercial activity. No wonder there were only a handful of visitors.

A short step back in time

We had some business to attend to in the morning in T'aichung 台中, and as our daughter has a swimming class anyway on Saturday afternoons in the city, we decided to spend the entire day there. Pamela had found a blog containing an entry on an old neighborhood in the Nant'un Disrict 南屯區, and suggested we check it out, and so that's how we ended up killing most of the time before we had to be at the pool for Amber's class.

After lunch, we drove into Nantun, and found the neighborhood in question. According to an English sign, the area is known as "Down Maple Village", and dates back to 1736 B.C.! There isn't much to Down Maple Village except for a brick-layered street, some old houses, several shops and a small canal. Crowds were noticeably absent - no one else was around except for young couple taking photos. The neighborhood isn't very attractive, but that's what was so interesting about it. This is what most of Taiwan looked like just a few short decades ago, unlike the many "old streets" all over the island that cater to the tourist trade:

One of the few places open for business was a small crafts shop called "Taichung Honest Shop" in English. The name is derived from the fact that no one is manning the cash register. There isn't even a cash register - if you see something you like, you put your money into a large urn. I have provided photographic evidence that we did, in fact, deposit the NT20 (60¢ or ¥50) that was required for removing a bottle of water out of the small refrigerator and taking it away from the premises:

And that was pretty much all she (or I) wrote about Down Maple Village. I wouldn't recommend going out of your way to visit, but if you're in the area and have some spare time, it's worth a quick stop. There's no telling how long old neighborhoods like this one can hold out against rapacious property developers - even in this locale, new row houses were located just across the street. Just watch out for the betel nut-chewing, helmet-less おじさん riding scooters - you could end colliding with a relic from Taiwan's past.

Happy Thanksgiving

It isn't easy being a Yank abroad, and trying to raise an American passport-holding child in a foreign land just makes things a little more difficult. It's a struggle at times to expose your offspring to the customs of the "homeland", especially when said child was born "abroad". Today, of course, is Thanksgiving, an occasion which goes by each year virtually unnoticed in Taiwan, outside of the American expatriate community. There are Thanksgiving meals on offer at hotel restaurants, and full-course dinners that can be ordered in advance and eaten at home, but these options aren't cheap, and I don't live on a company subsidized executive expat package (not that I wouldn't mind, if I had the chance!). So when I found out that PJ's Cafe in T'aichung 台中 was offering Thanksgiving dinners for only NT195 ($6 or ¥530), I arranged to take the night off from my regular Thursday evening class, and the three of us made the drive from Fengyuan 豐原 in order to celebrate the holiday.

It may not have looked fancy, but PJ's plate of turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce and coleslaw hit the spot. Amber didn't care much for the stuffing or cranberry sauce, but she loved everything else, and she learned how to say "Happy Thanksgiving", which by itself made the whole evening worthwhile:

Living in a small city like Fengyuan leaves me isolated from the larger expat community that exists in Taichung. For Amber's sake, we probably should get out more often and do things like we did tonight.

In the car on the way back to Fengyuan, I started to smell an odor similar to that of skunk. I thought at first that someone had run over a polecat (as often happened back in Sacramento, when the results could be smelled for miles around), but remembering that skunks aren't native to Taiwan, I mentioned the strange smell to my wife. It turned out to be coming from the bag of bamboo, chicken and onions that Pamela had bought from a street stall after dinner. Dinner was over, and it was back to Taiwan!

Happy Thanksgiving!

青空

There was a surprisingly large number of people out on the trails of Tak'eng this afternoon, considering the fact that it was a weekday. Still, the numbers were nothing like the circus this area becomes on weekends, and those out in the mountains today were far more reverential of their surroundings than their Saturday and Sunday compatriots. In contrast to the weekends, when the ridgetop pavilions are filled with people eating and talking loudly, all the while with their backs to the view, Tuesday's hikers were actually looking at the gorgeous scenery under the clear blue skies on a pleasantly warm day. Not surprisingly, the vistas looking towards the Central Mountain Range 中央山脈 were much better than than those overlooking T'aichung 台中, which was partially hidden under a layer of smog.

A self-portrait under a flag of a local hiking club, taken on the No. 4 Trail

The view looking down towards a colorful flower garden, in the town of Hsinshe 新社. Even on a Tuesday, there were a lot of cars in the parking lot - one can only imagine what it was like on Sunday!

Culture Kick

From Japan Today:

"Seiya Sanada 眞田聖也, right, drop kicks Soya Manabu 征矢学 during their All Japan Pro Wrestling 全日本プロレス (AJPW) Taiwan Cup performance fight in T'aipei 台北 on Saturday. The wrestlers of the AJPW were in Taiwan for a two-day tournament on Friday and Saturday."

Westerners may seek out flower arrangement 華道, kabuki 歌舞伎 and the tea ceremony 茶道, but when it comes to Japanese culture 日本の文化, it's the modern stuff that Taiwanese go for!

Living in the past

There's an excellent article by Max Hirsch of Kyōdō News 共同通信社 in today's edition of the Japan Times ジャパンタイムズ ("When Taiwan-Japan relations run afoul, there's always Hatta Yoichi"):

"The Japanese animated movie 'Hatta Yoichi' was given wide theatrical release Friday in Taiwan, but few moviegoers here are likely to grasp its political significance. Purely as 'anime' アニメ entertainment, the film has much to offer young Taiwanese unconcerned with politics. But it is also a historical biography, and the significance has not been lost on President Ma Ying-jeou 馬英九, who attended a special showing Nov. 4 in southern Taiwan before the general release. With bodyguards and dignitaries in tow, Ma made a point of traveling to T'ainan 台南 to attend the two-hour local premiere. For Ma, the film crystallizes his vision for even-keeled Taiwan-Japan relations. But where the movie appeals to the Taiwanese administration, the reality of bilateral relations misses the mark, as gaffes and hurt feelings have abounded between T'aipei 台北 and Tōkyō 東京 since Ma took office last year — a reality spurring him to bring into play his vision through politically charged sites, figures — and even cartoons."

And who is Yoichi Hatta 八田與一, you might be asking? He isn't a particularly well-known personage in Japan, but in Taiwan he's a celebrated figure, as Hirsch explains:

"(Hatta was a) Japanese engineer who planned and supervised the construction of southern Taiwan's Wushant'ou Reservoir 烏山頭水庫, which was completed in 1930. Japan ruled Taiwan from 1895 until 1945. Despite some lingering post-colonial resentment, Japan is generally credited in Taiwan for improving the island's infrastructure, rule of law, educational system and social services during its 50-year rule. Among Japan's achievements, Wushant'ou ranks as one of its most popular, with the dam taming the waters of southern Taiwan and ending a drought for millions of farmers, according to the film and Ma. Wushant'ou is still in operation, while Hatta is lionized as a humanist who treated local laborers as equals and worked tirelessly for Taiwan's benefit."

You can read a brief bio on Hatta in English here (plus a longer one in Japanese here). Hirsch goes on to explain how a presumably unassuming (and long deceased) hydraulic engineer has been adopted as a poster boy for close Japan-Taiwan relations:

"'Because of Mr. Hatta's efforts, a desert became fertile cropland . . . (his) kind, upright character is akin to that of the Taiwanese,' Ma said at the Tainan premiere...the film adds to the political symbolism that Ma has already lent to Hatta and his dam. Though Wushant'ou has been a symbol of bilateral friendship, Ma has further amplified its political meaning through special visits and functions. For example, Ma observed the 67th anniversary of Hatta's death in a ceremony May 8 held at a bronze statue of the engineer overlooking the reservoir. Last year, Ma arranged for the Taiwanese and Japanese de facto ambassadors to meet at the reservoir and take a tour. The site was chosen to encourage a rapport between the envoys and underscore bilateral friendship."

I hadn't realized that "kindness" and "uprightness" were special qualities of the Taiwanese - I appreciate both the president's clarification of this matter, and his generous acceptance that even (some) Japanese might also possess these fine local characteristics. But why is the Hong Kong-born scion of a well-connected nationalist political family with deep roots in China (and very few in Taiwan) so eager to embrace a symbol of the former colonial master, especially when his own Government Information Office 行政院新聞局 is putting out revisionist North Korean-style propaganda like this:

"'Since President Ma took office, Japan's image of him has been one of cuddling up to China and moving away from Japan, and so he seeks to use Hatta Yoichi to counter this image,' said Luo Fu-chuan, a former Taiwanese envoy to Japan. 'Tōkyō suspects President Ma of wanting to get in bed with Beijing.' Indeed, while Ma has wooed China, restarted formal negotiations across the Taiwan Strait 台湾海峡 and signed trade agreements with Beijing, Taipei relations with Tōkyō have mostly stagnated. Last year, a collision between a Japan Coast Guard 海上保安庁 vessel and a Taiwanese fishing boat in disputed waters near the Senkaku Islands 尖閣諸島 touched off a diplomatic spat about sovereignty over and access to the uninhabited islets and surrounding area. Since May, Ma has been reluctant to meet with Japan's envoy to Taipei, Makoto Saitō, who angered Ma by referring to Taiwan's international status as 'unresolved.' The remark came as a slap in the face to the Ma administration, which insists on the sovereignty of the Republic of China 中華民國, Taiwan's official name. And Taipei's much-touted plans to open a new representative office in Hokkaidō 北海道 have quietly faded away — apparently a sign that the Ma administration's interest in Japan is flagging. But amid the currently chilly ties, Hatta and his reservoir perhaps have taken on more political significance than ever as one of the few remaining, and thus more precious, symbols of positive relations. For Ma, they remain symbols to fall back on."

While it's great that the Diaoyutai Warrior can find something about the Japanese to like (remember the "What have the Romans ever done for us?" scene from "Life of Brian"?), all this adulation is no substitute for solid, stable relations between Taiwan and Japan. Like it or not, for Taiwan Japan is an important trading partner and source of investment, not to mention a potential ally in matters of security, built on a shared historical relationship. Though it might offend his Chinese nationalist feelings, Ma needs to shift his focus from the past, and pay more attention to the Japan (and Japanese) of the present and the future.

UPDATE:

It seems Hirsch's article struck a nerve with the Taipei Economic and Cultural Representative Office 台北経済文化代表処 in Tōkyō 東京.

The KMT 中國國民黨 can be pretty arrogant at home (and why not? It controls both the presidency and the legislature, as well as many local governments), but it's often very sensitive about criticisms from outsiders, so it should come as no surprise that someone at TECRO felt the need to respond.

Bob and Bing on the Road to Taichung

I have Tuesday afternoons free, and usually take advantage of the time by going for walks in the mountains. This morning, however, turned out to be an unexpected holiday as well, thanks to a government inspection of the kindergarten where I teach. It's one of those "Taiwan things" - foreigners are not allowed to teach young children, yet everyone knows it goes on. Hundreds (if not thousands) of Westerners are employed at kindergartens promoting English as the medium of instruction, and these schools can, in fact, sponsor working visas for foreign instructors. What the government is afraid of isn't clear (I'm not sure what dangerous ideas I could be imparting on the young minds I mold on weekday mornings), but when it comes time for announced-in advance inspections, the non-Taiwanese teachers are either told to hide (in empty rooms, basements, nearby parks...anywhere is possible) or, as was the case today, to take part of the day off. Of course, the logical thing to do would be to allow qualified foreign language instructors to teach young children in regulated, supervised environments, but this is Taiwan, so ridiculous restrictions are imposed, and then flouted by virtually everyone. It's things like this that make me glad my residency visa comes through marriage.

I had planned to spend this afternoon doing a bit of sightseeing in T'aichung 台中, and that's what I did (only with a bit more time on my hands). This morning I paid a visit to the city's foremost tourist attraction (for the locals, anyway), the National Museum of Natural Science 國立自然科學博物館. Like most things about Taichung (or Taiwan, for that matter), my feelings are mixed on the museum. From the outside, the building does nothing to inspire the approaching visitor. Most of the displays inside are directed towards children, and it was no surprise to see a constant stream of school children being led around the museum by guides today. Having visited before both with students and my daughter, I skipped the exhibits covering things like paleontology, zoology and biology, and instead made for the quieter displays located further inside the large building. In these rooms, one can learn about traditional Chinese medicine, early advances in Chinese technology, paleolithic Chinese cultures and Chinese spiritual beliefs, among other things:

Do you detect a pattern? It appears that the museum was established for the purpose of reminding Taiwanese people that they are "Chinese", and therefore should be proud of all that Chinese culture and tradition entails. In all fairness, however, the science museum also has Taiwan-specific displays, including one on the contributions of Japanese botanists to the study of flora on this island (alas, it was still in the process of being set up, and thus wasn't open yet). Yes, you can learn a lot about many aspects of what it means to be Chinese...if you can read characters, that is. With a couple of exceptions, there wasn't much labeled in English (though there may be English-language audio guides available). The room covering Taiwan's aboriginal peoples was one of those exceptions, but was surprisingly small considering the importance of the native peoples on the settlement and development of Taiwan. The other was a temporary exhibit containing photographs taken of Lukang 鹿港 in the 1960's by a doctor who was working there at the time. The pictures themselves provided a fascinating look at daily life in what was then a poor Taiwanese town, before it was discovered by tourists, and the explanations in English were very well done.

Following lunch (where the hordes of school kids were noisy, but surprisingly not obnoxious), I took a walk through the botanical gardens behind the museum. The grounds are dominated by the tropical rainforest conservatory (with its giant dragonfly outside). Having been there before, I gave it a miss this time, but the grounds both here, and outside the main museum buildings, make for a nice stroll, and a respite from the hubbub of the streets outside.

I then walked from the science museum towards Taichung art museum, along a series of parkways that have seen better days, unfortunately. As I had some personal business to attend to while in Taichung, I decided to save the art museum for the next time I play tourist, but I made a circuit of the grounds before returning to my scooter parked in front of the national science museum. 

By the time I'd finished doing what had to be done in Taichung, the weather had turned cloudy, cool and windy. Back in Fengyuan 豐原, the winds were so strong that a woman and her two small children were blown off their scooter and onto the middle of the street. Fortunately, everyone was fine, and I helped pick up the bike. Neither of the children were wearing helmets, of course, and the incident occurred while the woman was attempting to make a left turn on a red light, in front of oncoming traffic.

This is Taiwan, after all.