English Service host John Van Trieste is curious. There’s nothing about Taiwan’s many cultures that he doesn’t want to know more about. Join him every week as he gets to the bottom of yet another question. What will he be curious about this time?
Taiwanese people love their festive, seasonal dishes, and with the Lunar New Year just around the corner, we'll soon be seeing a great many of them. But what's the environmental cost of getting these foods from farm to plate? And, once the holidays are over, how much food ends up in the trash? Can we continue to enjoy our seasonal favorites in a sustainable way? These questions are the heart of a special exhibit now on at the National Taiwan Museum's Nanmen Branch. Today, we're going to visit the museum to find out the answers to these questions, and, while we're at it, take a look at some classic favorites served at festivals and celebrations across Taiwan.
Taiwan’s indigenous people and later ethnic Chinese arrivals have vastly different cultures. But a new exhibit at the National Taiwan Museum shows that cultures on both sides of the ethnic divide are always quite as alien to one another as it may seem. In an unusual number of ways, these unrelated cultures have created objects and customs in parallel with one another. And we’re not just talking about human universals that all cultures have. We’re also talking about such specific habits as smoking tobacco and using coins for purposes other than money. Though the specifics are different on each side of the ethnic divide, it turns out that people on both sides do these things. Alongside objects made for ordinary indigenous people and ordinary ethnic Chinese settlers, the exhibit also showcases glitzy deluxe versions of those same items once used in the Chinese imperial court, so you can get a sense of how even people at the top of society did the same things back in the days when imperial China ruled much of Taiwan. Today, we’re taking a walk through the exhibit, stopping at each of the ten sections to see how, in some ways, Taiwan’s indigenous population and later settlers from China weren’t completely different.
Despite the relatively small number of nations that officially recognize Taiwan, Taiwan does a great deal of unofficial diplomacy through a network of representative offices around the world. These offices do all the work an official embassy does, and while China may not like them, it doesn’t usually object to them too loudly. Taiwan’s newest office, though, has set off a diplomatic storm. To outsiders, giving the Taiwanese representative office in Lithuania the name The Taiwanese Representative in Lithuania may seem like a straightforward thing to do. But Lithuania’s decision to let the office operate under that name has earned the country China’s wrath. Why all the fuss about a simple name? How has China retaliated against Lithuania? And why doesn’t Lithuania just solve things by making Taiwan change the office’s name? To answer these questions, I’m talking this week with Eric Huang, Taiwan’s representative to Lithuania.
Among Taiwan’s small circle of diplomatic allies, the Pacific Island nation of Tuvalu is perhaps the least understood by the outside world. This collection of tropical atolls measures 26km2 around when put together. It is often called the world’s least-visited country. You’ll have a difficult time getting there, as there aren’t flights on most days. And your chances of meeting a Tuvaluan by chance are slim, too: there are only around 12,000 in the world. The uniqueness and isolation of this country are fascinating, but no one should assume that these mean Tuvalu is closed-off. Diplomatic ties with Taiwan are especially warm: until recently, Taiwan’s embassy was the only foreign mission in Tuvalu, and Taipei is home to one of the world’s only Tuvaluan embassies abroad. How do Taiwan and Tuvalu conduct diplomacy with one another? And why are ties between them so close, especially during a period when Taiwan has lost a number of other allies to China? Last week, Tuvalu’s ambassador to Taiwan, Her Excellency Limasene Teatu gave us some idea of how the two sides cooperate and what benefits each side gets from their relationship. This week, she is back to tell us about what’s been achieved during her period as ambassador, plus what it is that keeps Taiwan and Tuvalu close together.
The small Pacific island nation of Tuvalu is among Taiwan's staunchest friends on the international stage. Join Her Excellency Limasene Teatu, Ambassador of Tuvalu to Taiwan to find out why, and how the two sides help one another.
If Taiwan can help when it comes to tackling international crises like COVID-19 and climate change, then why does it fall behind when it comes to helping resolve the global refugee crisis, giving some of the world's most vulnerable people a safe place and a chance at a new life? The director of Amnesty International Taiwan, Chiu E-ling, joins us for a discussion of how a lack of a refugee law makes fleeing to Taiwan or claiming assylum here difficult to impossible.
The world is in the midst of a massive refugee crisis. And while Taiwan can feel far removed from the upheaval, here, too, you can find people looking for safety from war and persecution. Taiwan seems an ideal place to flee to: democratic, stable, a bastion of human rights, and without the refugee fatigue that’s hitting many countries in the west. But is it possible to get asylum in Taiwan? What criteria does Taiwan use to determine who can stay? And what are conditions like for those who, for one reason or another, have had to seek safety here? To find out, I’ve reached out to the executive director of Amnesty International Taiwan, Chiu E-ling.
Taiwan’s government has a mission. It wants Taiwan’s people to be bilingual by 2030, with English as their second language. But can this be done? On the ground, Taiwan seems far from any true bilingualism, even though English is compulsory in its schools. Are we teaching it right? What could we be doing better? And what obstacles stand in the way of the government’s bilingual vision for the country? To find out, I’ve been speaking lately with English teacher Daisy Fan, a 20-year veteran of Taiwan’s public high school system. Over the past two weeks, she’s been explaining how English is taught in practice here, what works in the curriculum and what doesn’t, and why there is a regional disparity in Taiwan’s English proficiency. She’s also shared the strange story of how some students here were asked to give a presentation about spinach. This week, she’s back to tackle some final issues: Taiwan’s love affair with after school tutoring academies, the not-always helpful attitudes of Taiwanese parents, and what about her own English-learning journey makes her a rare success story. Finally, we’re going to address the big question we started with—is a bilingual Taiwan in 2030 a serious possibility?
Controversy over a recent speaking topic at a national English speaking competition for high schoolers sheds light on regional disparities in Taiwan's English education.
Taiwan is a land of many languages, but the government is intent on adding one more to the mix: English. It’s set a goal of turning Taiwan into a fully bilingual nation by 2030. There are plenty of arguments for and against the idea circulating online right now, but how realistic is the idea in the first place? To find out more, I’ve found a real-life English teacher here, Daisy Fan, a 20-year veteran of Taiwan’s public high school system. I want to understand how English is taught here, what level of English the government expects graduating students to have, what Taiwan does right and wrong when it comes to English education, and whether Taiwan is really prepared to make English its second language within the decade.
Until a few months ago, the average person in Taiwan knew fairly little about the Baltic country of Lithuania. But since July, the country has been catapulted into the spotlight here, and all things Lithuanian are in. One of the biggest beneficiaries of this love of all things Lithuanian has been Rolandas Pridotkas, CEO of Lithuanian chocolate maker Ruta. Today, Mr. Pridotkas joins us by phone from the town of Šiauliai, Lithuania for an overview of his company and its sudden surge in popularity here in Taiwan.
Taiwan today ranks among the world’s healthiest societies, with cheap and high quality healthcare for all and an epidemic command center that’s made Taiwan a rare success story in handling COVID. But the good health Taiwan enjoys today is quite new, and it hasn’t come without hard work. Within living memory, diseases like cholera and polio were common scourges, crippling and killing with regularity. Our national health insurance system, meanwhile, is only a generation old. And all but the youngest of Taiwanese people remember the horrors that SARS unleashed here. Taiwan’s long struggle against disease is the subject of a new exhibit at the National Taiwan Museum called On the Cusps of Epidemic Crises. The exhibit’s designer, Chang An-qi has already walked us through the first half of the exhibit, focussed on pre-WWII Taiwan. She now joins us for a look at how Taiwan’s battle against disease has gone since the war’s end.
If there’s one thing Taiwan can justly pride itself on, it’s its high standard of public health. There’s cheap, universal healthcare here, and the average Taiwanese person lives to a ripe old age. And COVID-19? No problem—-thanks to wise decisions taken early on, that’s had a minimal impact here. It’s easy to imagine that Taiwan has always been a healthy place like this, but that is far from the case. In fact, just over a century ago, Taiwan had the opposite reputation. People called it “an isle of disease”, an absolute graveyard for visitors and invaders, and a place where even the locals helplessly dropped dead all the time. How did that Taiwan become the clean and healthy place it is today? This is the question at the heart of a new exhibit at the National Taiwan Museum: On the Cusps of Epidemic Crises. Joining us today for a walk through the exhibit is its designer, museum researcher Chang An-chi.
The Central American nation of Belize is a special place in many regards. The country is the region’s only English-speaking nation, a legacy of its centuries as the region’s only British colony. It’s also among the region’s most ethnically diverse countries. Where else on earth could you find indigenous Mayans and African-descended Creoles living alongside German-speaking Mennonites? And there’s another thing that sets Belize apart: it’s one of just 15 countries in the world that has diplomatic relations with Taiwan. Belizean students come here to study, and the country maintains an embassy here in Taipei.
The Pacific island nation of Palau is a pristine paradise. And, as it's also the only country to have opened a COVID-19 travel bubble with Taiwan, it's a nation on the minds of many travel-starved Taiwanese people these days. But for Taiwanese people, Palau is far more than just a tropical getaway or world-class diving spot: it's one of the best friends Taiwan has. This week, Her Excellency, Ambassador Dilmei Louisa Olkeriil fills us in on what's behind the special friendship Taiwan and Palau share.
Ah, the Pacific island nation of Palau…It’s a pristine tropical paradise just around three hours from Taipei by plane. The islands have remained remarkably COVID free, and these days, they’ve attracting a lot of attention here in Taiwan. That’s because Palau has just reopened a COVID “travel bubble” with Taiwan, allowing Taiwan’s travel-starved people a chance to finally go abroad once more. But what are Taiwanese travelers going to see and do in Palau? What does Palau have to offer tourists? Does this travel bubble come with rules or strings attached? And what do Palauans thinks about reopening their country’s borders as the Delta variant of COVID rages around the world?
There are few traditional art forms in Taiwan that conjure up quite as many memories as the old puppet theater does. This popular entertainment, born along China’s southeastern coast, has since made the journey over to Taiwan and evolved into a distinctly local identity. Over the centuries, traditional Chinese tales and puppet styles have been overlaid with newer tales and aesthetics updated to match new developments in Taiwan’s history and popular consciousness. Puppets have grown larger and more elaborate, too, as new technologies from movies and TV to the internet have changed the way people enjoy this old genre. The world of Taiwanese puppetry is the subject of a new exhibit at the National Taiwan Museum, and curator Chen Wan-ping. is with us to pick up on a conversation about this exhibit we left off on last week.
For generations, people looking for entertainment in Taiwan have turned to puppet theater. Though deeply rooted in classical Chinese literature and legend, this is a theatrical style that has in recent times embedded itself in Taiwan’s soil and evolved into a modern art form found nowhere else. Taiwanese puppetry is the subject of a new exhibit at the National Taiwan Museum, and with me to discuss it today is museum curator Chen Wan-ping.
It’s that spooky time of year when the doors to the underworld open once more and unhappy spirits walk the earth. This month-long period, called ghost month in Taiwan and across much of east Asia, is a time filled with caution, taboo, and even outright fear, for in their month-long recess from the other side, the ghosts are free to cause mischief and even harm to the living. Today, we explore ghost month, it’s do’s and dont’s, and the elaborate activities planned to keep both the living and those who’ve passed on peacefully coexisting through its end.
Since the first Modern Olympics Games in 1896, many participating countries have changed names or flags, or ceased to exist altogether. But no Olympic story is more convoluted than that of Taiwan. No one has competed under more names and few have competed under more flags. And, countries being punished for doping aside, no one else is barred from using their own flag, anthem, and even name at the games. This unusual Olympic history is a big part of the newest exhibit at the National Museum of Taiwan History. With me to discuss this new exhibit is museum researcher Liu Wei-ying.
It is with sadness that RTI recently said farewell to the man who was long at the helm here. After several decades here, Andrew Ryan has moved on to greener pastures. In a final on-air chat with this award-winning broadcaster, we hear about his fondest and most impactful memories during his time here and his most satisfying achievements, as well as what the future holds in store for him.
There aren't many jobs that let you work alongside a legend. I've been lucky enough to find one. Andrew Ryan is a decorated veteran of Taiwan's media and entertainment scene. And sadly, he's just left us to pursue a new job. But he's not quite off the hook yet! I realize now that I didn't know much about his story when he was still here at RTI, so I've called him up to find out about it. Join us today as we learn how he came to Taiwan and got his start in broadcasting.
Why is it that Taiwan's workers often refuse to clock in a second earlier than they have to? Find out the origins and extent of this piece of Taiwanese work culture called "yamiao" or "squeezing the second".
Taiwan's animal lovers are up in arms. A southern Taiwan zoo with a poor animal welfare record has gotten permision to import 18 giraffes with apparently minimal government oversight. What might be behind the government's apparent laxity? And how has the situation changed since animal rights activists began protesting against the deal? Join Executive Director of the Taiwan Society for the Prevention for Cruelty to Animals, Connie Chiang, for a look at how Taiwan's foreign relations and the power of the Taiwanese media might have come into play, plus a discussion of Taiwan's responsibility to abide by international wildlife rules and the need to get Taiwanese zoos in general to clean up their act.
It's a plan that's enraged animal rights activists: a private Taiwanese zoo with a poor track record in terms of animal welfare wants to import 18 giraffes. But this isn't just a story about one zoo and 18 giraffes: it throws a spotlight onto broader issues, such as Taiwan's diplomatic isolation and what that means for its responsibility to uphold international wildlife protection rules. It also raises questions about the power of Taiwan's media conglomerates and about whether Taiwan has what it takes to uphold its own animal protection laws or hold zoos that violate the law to account. Joining us today for a look at the controversy and the latest developments is Connie Chiang, Executive Director of the Taiwan Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.
For your average chocoholic, the words “Taiwanese chocolate” are an unusual combination. Taiwan’s chocolate production is neither extensive nor does it have the prestige that high-end chocolates from some other countries carry. And yet a small group of intrepid cocoa farmers here quietly press on, producing sophisticated chocolate that deserves far more attention from the world than it’s gotten. Each grower seems to have their own quirky story about how they got into growing such a rare crop for this part of the world, and retired couple Chang Tung-ming and Tseng Hui-ying are no exception. They went in knowing practically nothing about chocolate, and only got to where they are through a sometimes disastrous process of trial and error. But they now produce cocoa products full-time in Taiwan’s far south, and they also run a successful farm tourism business that brings in chocolate-lovers from across Taiwan.
Well, Taiwan is still not yet out of the woods when it comes to COVID. The government has just announced an extension of restrictions that will see museums and other places of learning shuttered well into July. But this doesn’t mean that museums or learning have stopped here. In fact, as Taiwan’s schools continue to hold classes virtually in the run up to summer vacation, some of Taiwan’s museums are pulling through, helping stressed-out teachers put together fun and off-beat classes that go far beyond the ordinary curriculum. Today, as we wrap up a series on what Taiwan’s museums have to offer in a time of COVID shutdowns, we’re heading to the National Museum of Taiwan History in Tainan, a museum that has put together a colossal number of themed units for kids and adults alike to learn from. With us today is museum researcher Hsieh Yen-jung.
Like other museums across Taiwan, the National Taiwan Museum has had to close its doors to visitors amid Taiwan's worst-yet outbreak of COVID-19. But COVID-19 hasn't shut the museum down by any means: the museum's four branches are all open for virtual tours, their collections have been digitized for everyone to see online, and they are also right in the middle of a lively series of virtual events the public can join in on. That's not to mention the wealth of content the museum continues to put out there through various mediums, all of it ready to enjoy right at home. Welcome to this second episode in a series on what Taiwan's museums have to offer even as they stay closed due to COVID. Joining me this week is Huang Hsing-ta, head of the National Taiwan Museum's Education Promotion Section.
If COVID has you feeling cooped up and bored, Taiwan's museums may be able to help. Though they remain shuttered, these museums haven't stopped working. They're digitizing materials, uploading 3D scans of their prized artifacts, and even using the sorts of cameras Google Street View uses to create virtual walkthrough tours. In many cases, these online exhibits include full English translations, allowing people from across the world to see the best Taiwan's museums have to offer on demand. You don't even have to buy a ticket. Over the next few weeks, I'm going to explore what these museums have to offer us as we wait for COVID-19 to end. Today, I'm starting with what's probably the most prestigious and popular of Taiwan's museums, the National Palace Museum, home to countless treasures of the imperial Chinese court carted off from Beijing late in the 1940’s, as the government fled Chinese communists and relocated to Taipei. Joining us today for an overview of what you can expect if you visit the museum’s website is the museum’s Mr. Li, in charge of these online exhibits.
There’s nothing that says the beginning of summer quite like zongzi, a dish of rice and other ingredients wrapped and cooked in leaves. Zongzi are the dish of the late spring, early summer Dragon Boat Festival, a seasonal treat that even in times of pandemic, you can smell behind your mask as you wander the streets of Taiwan. Like all things Taiwan and food related, we go over today to my good friend and gourmand Sam Chen for an introduction to the zongzi, the dizzying variations on the dish out that are out there, and why, even with the usual Dragon Boat Festival events likely to be canceled, people are still going to eat them this year.
The race to develop treatments for COVID-19 has involved cutting-edge techniques and expensive research. In Taiwan, though, some believe they’ve found a much simpler way, using just ten medicinal herbs. The results of trials suggest that traditional Chinese medicine has something to contribute to the fight against COVID-19. Professor Shih Chun-chuan was part of the team that reviewed this herbal remedy’s effectiveness. He joins us today for an overview of how this medicine was developed and what’s in it
Anyone who knows me knows that I love beer. And while I go through different phases over time, I’ve recently returned to an old favorite, a beer that was long the only one available in Taiwan. It’s called, appropriately enough, Taiwan Beer. While the number of competitors has exploded over recent years, this brand has managed to hold on as Taiwan’s most popular. One reason is probably the beer’s distinct taste, something it gets from incorporating Taiwanese penglai rice into its mix of ingredients. But with so many craft beer and canned beer choices out there, that can’t be all there is to it. To find out what’s behind Taiwan Beer’s secret staying power, I’ve talked with director Yang You-Ming of Taiwan Beer’s Jianguo Brewery in Taipei.
The humble biandang is a Taiwanese institution, simple as can be, but full of enough calories to power an entire nation. Biandang can be rich in meat or vegetarian, but they always include cooked vegetables and perhaps some tofu, all served over a bed of steaming white rice and packed into a simple square box. These days, biandang are served to order, and you can order them in train stations or in take out form. But these ready-to-eat boxed meals—deeply seated in Taiwanese culture though they are—haven’t always been this way. In fact, they’ve undergone decades of change and innovation to evolve from their foreign forbears to the distinctly Taiwanese meal we know today. This humble boxed meal of meat, tofu, vegetables, and rice is the subject of the latest exhibit at Taipei’s Museum 207. The museum’s director, An Qi, joins us today for a tour of this Taiwanese meal’s history.
Taiwan has plenty of world-renowned teas. But until recently, black tea was not among them. Sure, Taiwan’s black tea was long widely exported. But until not that long ago, this was just cheap swill for foreigners. No one here would drink it. When the foreign markets collapsed in the 1970’s, Taiwan’s unappreciated black tea might well have disappeared. But the work of a team of local scientists and farmers has seen black tea’s fortunes not just revive but prosper here in Taiwan. Today, black tea has taken its place in the pantheon of teas connoisseurs associate with Taiwan. The journey of black tea from to Taiwan’s shores and from Taiwanese boom to bust to boom again is the subject of a new exhibit at the Pinglin Tea Museum. The museum’s director joins me today for a look at a long-ignored Taiwanese treasure that’s finally gotten its due.
How do you make a hotel thrive in the time of COVID? It’s a question RTI’s neighbor, the Grand Hotel, has figured out, even as the foreign tourism market has collapsed. It hasn’t been easy, but this nearly 70-year-old hotel has two aces up its sleeve that have helped immensely. One is the hotel’s romantic past. Who wouldn’t want to stay in a place that’s hosted everyone from Dwight D. Eisenhower to Elizabeth Taylor? And then, there’s the hotel's current chairman, Lin Yusheng. Under his leadership, the hotel has started to use its storied past to its advantage, opening up its long-hidden secrets to the Taiwanese public. The response has been enthusiastic to say the least. The hotel has even started turning a profit, something it hadn’t done in more than 20 years. Over the past two weeks, I’ve taken you to some of the recently opened attractions the hotel has to offer. We’ve seen the secret Cold War tunnels that run beneath the hotel and the house where the hotel’s first manager, a mysterious woman named Kong Er, once rested in her off hours. This week, we’re heading to the hotel’s top floor to the office of Mr. Lin Himself to see just how far the hotel has come despite all the crises the past few years have thrown at it.
Join us in search of the real story behind the Taipei Grand Hotel's first manager, a mysterious and formidable woman whose private quarters have just been opened to the public after many decades of seclusion.
Imagine finding out that a place you thought you knew well is actually full of secrets. I’m talking false walls, hidden doors, and secret passages. It sounds like the premise of some pulpy spy novel, right? Well, that’s what actually happened to me this week. For close to eight years, I never suspected anything about the great stone wall off to one side of RTI’s parking lot. But the wall is hiding something, a Cold War mystery that’s only just been solved. Join us today as we descend into the tunnels that hide beneath RTI's neighbor, Taipei's Grand Hotel!
Each year in the early spring, most Taiwanese people head to the graveyards. The occasion isn’t morbid: it’s about remembering those who have passed on and celebrating family ties, in much the same way as similar holidays around the world like Mexico’s Day of the Dead. This is the Tomb Sweeping Festival, a chance for a long weekend, and a family gathering. But like many traditions, the Tomb Sweeping Festival in Taiwan is not static, and recent years have brought some big changes in the way actual people on the ground observe it. One recent tomb sweeper, Sam, is here with us this week to tell us about the holiday and the growing gap between tradition and how people actually observe the holiday today.
A few weeks ago in a Taipei park I had a bit of a surreal experience. Suddenly, standing in front of me was a group of people dressed in elaborate period costume—knights in armor, armed peasants, and a cloaked, sword-wielding man wearing a skeleton mask. Had I stumbled on some kind of weird Renaissance fair? Despite the Medieval-inspired garb and the period musical instruments being played, no. This was my introduction to the world of something called LARP—short for “live action role playing”. It’s a relatively new thing in Taiwan, but it seems to have taken root across the country. And it’s a bit of a difficult phenomenon to classify. People who take part in LARP games aren’t historical reenactors. Nor are they cosplayers, people who dress up as characters from their favorite works of fiction. To further complicate things, each LARP group has its own rules and aesthetic style. I was a bit confused at first, but the head of the group I happened upon in that Taipei park, Dennis Chou, is here with us today to explain what LARP is, what LARPers do, and why.
Taiwan’s indigenous peoples are famous for their gifts of song and dance. But fewer people outside their communities are quite as familiar with their traditions of instrumental music. As my guest today tells me, this is often quieter and more introspective music. It’s often intimate, not meant for grand public performances, but just for one or two listeners. The typical instruments from a range of indigenous groups are now on display in an exhibit at the Cahamu Museum, a museum of indigenous culture in the southern city of Tainan. Here to take us on a tour of the collection and teach us a bit about Taiwanese indigenous music is the museum’s Mukuwi Aniw.
Taiwan might not be a big place, but an awful lot has happened here, and if you wanted to tell Taiwan’s story in just a few objects, you’d have a hard time covering everything. Yet the National Taiwan Museum has managed to do exactly this with a newly opened permanent exhibit on how Taiwan as we know it came to be. Last week, museum curator Li Tsu-ning joined us for an introduction to how today’s Taiwan emerged. But with so many events and objects to discuss, we only made it part of the way through, exploring Taiwan’s indigenous cultures and its longstanding contacts with the outside world. This week, we’re picking up where we left off in the 19th century, a time when outside contacts became much more frequent, and intrusive, than ever before.
In the space of just one newly renovated wing, the National Taiwan Museum is attempting to do something difficult—present the history and culture of Taiwan through a relatively small number of objects. We’re not exactly big geographically or in terms of our population, but there is a lot to cover— dozens of cultural groups plus centuries of recorded history. It doesn’t help that the museum’s collection is huge, and only two or three items can stand in for a whole period or an entire people. Still, the museum has done pulled it off, sketching a complete picture of how Taiwan as we know it came to be. Today, museum curator Li Tzu-ning is here to give us an overview of what the museum decided to do for this, its latest long-term exhibit.
At just over 36,000 sq. km around with somewhere over 23 million people, Taiwan is small on a global scale. But it is crammed full of enough treasures to fill a museum—the National Taiwan Museum. Since last weekend, visitors can see these treasures on display as never before on a completely refurbished second floor. Rather than place objects in neat rows behind glass cabinets, this new permanent exhibit arranges them in colorful dioramas that make the objects jump out and inspire the imagination. One of the minds behind the design of this new exhibit is museum curator Hsu Yu-chun, who worked on the half that describes Taiwan’s rich natural history. She joins us today for a journey through the exhibit hall, outlining the dramatic story of how Taiwan formed and the rich array of creatures that call it home today.
At the beginning of the year, the National Taiwan Museum sent me a day planner filled with photos of curiosities from its collection. My friends at the museum tell me these historic artifacts and natural specimens will all be going into a big new exhibit long in the making that will open this weekend. There were a few items, though, that attracted my attention, and the museum’s researchers have been kind enough to humor my curiosity about one set of items in particular. These objects tell the story of a practice once common in Taiwan that would be unthinkable today—footbinding. From the age of five or six, girls would have their feet wrapped in increasingly tight bandages that forced the toes downward beneath the soles and stunted the growth of their feet. By adulthood, their feet would be tiny, hoof-like stumps—the smaller, the more worthy of praise according to the beauty standards of the time. Today, Associate Museum Researcher Li Tzu-ning is here to talk about this famous or infamous practice and the objects from the museum collection that tell the story of its demise.
Curator Batsuren Buyanjargal walks us through a new exhibit at Taipei's Mongolian and Tibetan Cultural Center featuring objects and artworks that examine what she calls Mongol people's "homemaking philosophy".
Pass by any temple or old home in Taiwan and you’ll be struck by the rich decorations that adorn the walls and the rooftops. On some of the more modest buildings, it’s the little details that catch the eye, things like intricately painted tiles used to accent a surface. And then there are the flashy carved stone facades of old townhouses or the soaring dragons and depiction of great legends of temples. All of Taiwan’s historic architectural styles have flourishes like these, and a new exhibit at Taipei’s Museum 207 is now here to celebrate them. It also highlights the threat of demolition that faces many of Taiwan’s beautifully decorated buildings and calls on us to tell the government to preserve them. With me today to walk us through the exhibit is its organizer, Wang Chen-yi.
Of all the places where archaeologists have dug in Taiwan, few have yielded treasures as remarkable as those found in Hualien County along the east coast. Yet until this year, many of these treasures were scattered among various universities and museum collections in other corners of Taiwan. Now, the newly-opened Hualien County Museum of Archaeology has brought them all back home in one place. The collection here is enormous, and it includes items both mysterious and impressive. Together, they paint a picture of a prehistoric past in which Hualien was a sophisticated place connected both with the rest of Taiwan and the outside world. The museum’s director, Mr. Wen, joins us today for an overview of the Hualien region’s prehistory and the legacies it’s left to us.
After a year of closure for renovations, the National Museum of Taiwan History is back. And what a year it was, filled with border closures, lockdowns, and quarantine measures keeping people around the world apart. Even in Taiwan, so far spared the worst of COVID-19, social distancing is in force. The mass isolation of the past year is the inspiration for one of the museum’s first comeback exhibitions in this year—an examination of isolation, both physical and metaphorical, through Taiwan’s history. The exhibit features five case studies of people being cut off. The last in particular, an examination of how the physically and mentally ill were once placed in special facilities, is particularly timely. Joining me today for a look at isolation in Taiwan’s past is museum curator Shih Wen-cheng.
It probably doesn’t come as any surprise that Taiwan, an island nation, has had its fair share of boats throughout history. From the strikingly painted seagoing canoes of the Tao people from Orchid Island off the southeast coast to the grand Chinese-style junks of centuries past, there’s a lot to marvel at where Taiwanese boats are concerned. But while these flashier boats get much of the attention in the popular imagination, there are also humbler, more plain vessels dotting Taiwan’s past that also deserve attention. Take for instance, the thoroughly ordinary tshiu-te-a, a workhorse boat that once helped power the economy around the southwestern city of Tainan back when roads had yet to knit together much of the city’s swampy hinterland. This wasn’t anything fancy, but it was a dependable ride through the shallow inland waters, carrying cargo so innocuously that it was barely noticed until it had disappeared. Today, the National Museum of Taiwan History in Tainan holds the only surviving boat of this type in existence, and it is around this simple vessel that it’s built one of its first exhibits after a year of closure for renovations. Exhibit organizer and museum researcher Su Fengnan joins us today for a look back at a ship that shaped a city.
Across Taiwan, from remote fields and mountains to urban centers you can see them just after the sun’s gone down. During the warmer parts of the year, at least, you can see them at dusk right over RTI’s parking lot, too. Bats. These creatures have gotten a bad rap over the past year as hosts of multiple coronaviruses, but in Taiwan, at least, they’re old symbols of good fortune, and creatures that benefit the humans that live here today to boot. Here with me this week for a look at Taiwan’s bats and Taiwanese attitudes towards them is Hsu Chao-lung, a researcher at the Bat Conservation Society of Taipei.
Beiguan, literally "the northern pipes", is a style of music that once functioned as the soundtrack to all sorts of events in Taiwan, from celebrations of births and marriages, to funerals, temple festivals, gods' birthdays, and theatrical performances. But Beiguan is also a way of life, with performers tied to their tightly-knit troupes, subject to stringent taboos and codes of conduct. At one point, they were even prepared to clash with members of rival troupes if need be. Whole towns gather around their local Beiguan troupes, chipping in money to help them buy the best uniforms and the fanciest cloth banners for temple processions. And even today, as the genre's connections with births, weddings, and funerals fades, it remains the sound of Taiwanese folk religion, raucous, lively, and, unlike some more elitist genres of Taiwanese music, open to all. Professor Jian Hsiu-Jen of Taipei National University of the Arts is behind one recent effort to get Beiguan Music back into the public eye, an ongoing exhibit at the National Center for Traditional Arts in Yilan County. She joins us today for a look at the art form at the fun ways the exhibit aims to make the old form of Beiguan accessible for a contemporary audience.
Scientific illustrations. These are the sort of hand-drawn diagrams that appear in old books and these days, as posters on the walls of fancy cafes or home decor shops. Each part of their subject, animal, plant, or stone, is carefully labeled, or sometimes, whole extinct creatures emerge from the page, reimagined in an artist’s impression based on fossils and other surviving evidence. It’s these lovingly drawn and diagramed subjects that form the basis of an ongoing exhibit at the National Taiwan Museum's Nanmen Branch: "Drawing Nature: Taiwan as Portrayed in Natural History Illustrations". The museum’s Hsiang Li-jung joins us today for an overview.
In the 1920’s, the newly born city of Taipei was a rapidly changing place. Automobiles began to fill streets where human-power rickshaws had once been the only means of transport. Telephone lines began to connect once distant parts of town. An expanding waterworks system piped in clean water into homes, and electricity lit up the night as it did in only a few other tiny slivers of Taiwan. The city was a dynamic sort of place that old black-and-white photos just don’t do justice to. And, at the same time, it was also a city subject to colonial rule, where locals and colonizers lived very unequal lives. Fortunately for us, a snapshot of this city more than any photo survives, a 1928 guide to the city that lists everything there was. Part tourist guidebook, part phone directory, part atlas, it maps out every single business, public institution, and even market stall that stood at the time, giving a valuable look at what people of the time were buying, what conditions they lived in, and what visitors to the city could expect when they arrived. Long out of print, it has been reissued this year by the Chiang Wei-shui Foundation, an organization devoted to the 1920’s-era doctor, proponent of Taiwanese culture, and leader of anti-colonial struggle Chiang Wei-shui, a man mentioned in the guide itself. Association director and grandson of Chiang Wei-shui, Mr. Chiang Chao-ken, joins us today for a look at this priceless document and a look at why his organization has decided to reprint it.
It’s difficult to imagine what any city in the world looked like 100 years ago without the help of photos or maps, but the Taipei of 100 years past is an especially hard place to figure out. That’s because the past century here has seen the city’s population surge, old landmarks disappear, and new districs dominated by high rises rise up from nothing. These days, lots of people are thinking about Taipei as it was a century ago. That's because this year is the centenary of Taipei's official foundation. One of the most insightful exhibits about life in 1920's Taipei is going on now at city hall.
Taipei’s Wanhua District is the sort of place you don’t soon forget. It can be on the gritty side, but the area packs a punch when it comes to historic buildings, street food, and old temples full of old traditions. Among the district’s treasures is a grand temple festival and parade that has been held regularly for 165 years, commemorating the lifting of a great epidemic that hit the area's 19th century townspeople. Appropriately enough for a year filled with disease, the 2020 edition of the festival, which ended last week, was the largest yet, attracting, per local media reports,100,000 or so participants. Late into the night, over the course of three days, firecrackers lit up the streets as revelers held a procession in honor to the gods that lifted the plague all those years ago. This year, though, things are a little different. The celebration this time around started early, back on November 27. And while the streets have calmed down, it’s actually not over yet. This year, the Taiwan-based General Association of Chinese Culture has organized several weeks of events and exhibits around the big bash to attract visitors to Wanhua and bring its history, plague and all, to life. The association’s deputy secretary-general, Li Houqing, joins us today for an overview of Wanhua’s history and all of the activities planned this year to celebrate it.
The Taipei area is chock-full of museums. But not all of the city’s good collections are advertised. Some are hidden in completely unremarkable buildings, the sorts of places that people pass by everyday without realizing there’s anything worth stopping to look at inside. National Taiwan University’s Museum of Anthropology is a good example.It’s one of a number of interesting, but barely visited displays hidden across campus. The objects on display don’t change much, but I like to go in from time to time to check in on them. Aside from an attendant or two, I’ve never seen a single other soul here. My most recent visit was this week, and I’d like to take this opportunity to let you in on this small but beautiful exhibit hall showcasing the rich variety of Taiwan’s first peoples.
Today, at almost any family gathering in Taiwan- at least any I've been invited to- the TV is definitely on, and it isn't long before the phones come out. Sure, people chat and eat, but there is a lot besides one another's company to focus on. It seems this is remarkably recent, though, as a new exhibit at Taipei's Museum 207 reminds us. This is an homage to the board games of yesteryear, the sort of games that have lost their place in most contemporary family living rooms, but which remain in the memory as well as in the possession of a passionate group of collectors. The museum's chief educational coordinator Wang Chen-yi joins us this week for a dive into the boardgames that generations of Taiwanese people still remember today.
Retired local teacher Chang Jen-fu, joins us for a tour of northern Taiwan's oldest school, now over 250 years old.
When Chang Li-ying immigrated to Taiwan to marry her Taiwanese husband, her days as a Burmese flight attendant were over, and her days were filled with caring for her growing family. It seemed that bringing up her children was the main thing life would have in store for her from then on. But she came to Taiwan at an interesting time for immigrants from Southeast Asia like herself. In recent years, Southeast Asians, whether immigrants, spouses, workers, or students, have taken to the spotlight. From the parents bearing the next generation of Taiwanese children to migrant workers who keep Taiwan running, people from the countries of Southeast Asia have shown how indispensable they are to Taiwan, and the government, for its part, has made paying attention to our southern neighbors a matter of official policy. Amid this shift in Taiwan’s society, Ms. Chang unexpectedly found her new calling. She joins us today to talk about her work as an elementary school Burmese language teacher and her volunteer position as a translator for the National Immigration Agency. She’ll also share the work she’s put into raising her Taiwan-born children the Burmese way.
When the late Ben Yang said that his dream was to make a world-class Taiwanese wine, there were only a few who believed it was possible. Ben Yang didn’t live to see it, but he proved the naysayers wrong. Though he had no background in winemaking, he did have a background in agriculture, and he believed in Taiwan’s soil and its farmers. He also happened to know many experts spanning a range of fields, who, when assembled as a team, filled in all the pieces of how Taiwanese wine could succeed. The result is Weightstone, a Taiwanese winery with several estates, and a number of outside grape farmers to boot. Last week, we heard from the brand’s Sean Huang about the story of Ben Yang and his daughter, the current owner. We also heard about how the brand’s unusual name came to be. This week, though, Mr. Huang will fill us in on all the technical challenges that stood in the way of Mr. Yang’s dream, and how the company overcame them to create wines fit for well-heeled VIP’s and heads of state.
Bordeaux, Napa…central Taiwan? If it seems to you like one of these names doesn't belong, you're not alone. There are many famed wine-producing regions around the world, but you won't find any of them in Taiwan. So it may come as a surprise to learn that Taiwanese wine not only exists but has won global awards. Over the past few years, a small Taiwanese company called Weightstone has created a range of wines worthy of well-healed VIP's and even heads of state. And you don't have to be a wine connoisseur or even drink wine at all to appreciate the remarkable story of how this wine came to be. Here with us this week to share that story is Weighstone's Sean Huang.
Mooncakes, mooncakes, mooncakes. When the weather starts to cool and the autumn moon rises, mooncakes are what’s on the menu. If you know a Taiwanese person, chances are you’ll get gift boxes full of them around this time of year. And you’re sure to see them all over the place when you go out, too. Just about every pastry shop has its own for sale. What exactly are these mysterious-sounding treats, though? And, after so many years of giving and receiving gift boxes full of them, do Taiwanese people really appreciate mooncakes anymore? Taiwanese food blogger Sam knows all about these seasonal gifts, and he joins us today for a look at how the classic mooncake has been updated, and even replaced in recent years.
An exploration of the history of Taiwanese Opera and its routes in Yilan county through the newest exhibit at the Lanyang Museum.
The country of Indonesia is home to more than 267 million people spread out over more than 17,000 islands that cover nearly two million square kilometers altogether. So how would you go about looking for just one of those 267 million people if you didn’t even know their real name? This isn’t a hypothetical question: it was the real question that faced a young Taiwanese student earlier this year. This is a story of traumatic separation and reunion against the odds, and here to help me tell it is RTI Indonesian’s Tony Thamsir, who was part of the search effort that made the happy ending possible.
It’s the premier spectacle of the late summer, a tradition dating back centuries that appears on tourist posters advertising Taiwan abroad and always attracts large domestic crowds, too. And it’s been canceled. Despite Taiwan’s success in tackling COVID-19, there are some events, it seems, that are just too big to hold. And this, an annual obstacle course race held to mark "Ghost Month", is one of them. When the event had to be called off, Mr. Lin Lian-sheng, director of the organization that puts it on each year, was left in a difficult position. The event honors ghosts said to wander the earth during this time of year, and race or no race, they still need to be appeased. After asking the gods for special permission, though, a solution to the problem came: why not hold a Ghost Month cook-off and worship ceremony instead?
We’re now in September, but as far as the traditional lunar calendar is concerned, we’re still in the midst of Ghost Month, that time of late summer when spirits are given a month long reprieve from the underworld and return to haunt the world of the living. Across Taiwan, it is common for households, neighborhoods, and companies alike to present offerings to the wandering spirits to keep them well fed and prevent them from causing mischief. RTI is no exception- each year, without fail, we present a rich array of fruits and other goodies for the ghosts to enjoy. Dream Lin of RTI’s PR department has seen his fair share of these Ghost Month offerings through the years, and as we stand next to each other during our 2020 Ghost Month ceremony, I ask him how the spread we put out compares with the average Taiwanese household or company.
We find ourselves in the midst of Ghost Month once again. This is a time of year in the late summer when spirits are said to roam the earth and misfortune awaits those of us among the living who offend them. It’s perhaps the most tradition-bound time of the whole year, with an array of do’s and don’ts that grows and grows depending on how tradition-minded you are. But what is ghost month at its core, and what are these spirits that are supposed to be roaming the earth anyway? Folklore and Feng Shui expert Chang Hsu-chu is here with us today to delve into a subject many people grow up with, but few seem to completely understand.
We have it easy. No matter where we are, we can Zoom, Skype, text, or call anyone we know, and be confident they’ll get the message. But that hasn’t been the case for all that long. Taipei’s Museum 207 has just opened an exhibit called “You Send, I Copy” that revisits the history of sending messages in Taiwan. Through artifacts borrowed fromTaiwan’s Chunghwa Telecom, the National Science and Technology Museum, and private collectors, this exhibit tells a story that mirrors the evolution of modern communications around the world, but which in other ways is distinctively Taiwanese. Here to tell us more about this exhibit is museum director Hua An-chi.
Taiwan sits along the Pacific Rim, and that means one thing—volcanoes. Taiwan counts two active volcanoes, neither of which has erupted in recorded history. But while the risks may be limited, the government is not taking any chances. This year, it’s working to set up a volcano alert system that will provide advance warning if either of them should begin to stir. One of the brains behind the project is Hsiao Nai-chi of the Central Weather Bureau’s Seismological Center. He joins us today for an overview of Taiwan’s volcanoes and a look at what the government has in mind.
For several centuries, Taiwan was a frontier island, a place where indigenous, Austronesian peoples and their cultures met, faced off against, and cooperated with ethnic Chinese newcomers from the Asian mainland. There was a conceptual boundary marked on maps and a physical one as well, marked by boundary stones, watchtowers, and earthen barriers beyond which imperial Chinese subjects were not to settle. But in practice, like all frontiers, this was a porous boundary, and it was one that shifted over time with migration. Through a new exhibit called “Once Upon a Time in the Frontier”, the National Taiwan Museum is exploring what this frontier actually was, how it changed the peoples on both sides, and how it came to an end. Museum researcher Wu Bai-lu is with us today as a guide to Taiwan’s old frontier.
In 1935, Taiwan got a case of exhibition fever. This was an age when world's fairs and expositions were all the rage, and finally, Taiwan had a big one of its own. "Progress" and "modernity" were the watchwords of the day, and, to the event's organizers at least, Taiwan had plenty of both to show off. But were all who attended as thrilled with all of this "modernity" as officials expected them to be? That's the question the National Taiwan Museum is asking at an exhibit now open at its new Railway Department Park: "Debating "Modern": The 1935 Taiwan Exposition".
It was a landmark- one of the poshest addresses in Taipei with all the latest amenities. Royalty and celebrities gathered in its luxurious halls or stayed in what, at the time, was the best accommodation that money could buy in Taiwan. Today, you can’t visit it for any amount of money, though- unless, that is, you can make it to the National Taiwan Museum’s newly-opened Railway Department Park. There, a bit of the turn-of-the-century glamor that made this place so special has been resurrected in a special exhibit called Taiwan Railway Hotel (1908-1945). Here, you can see what Taiwan’s first-ever hotel looked like, meet the famous figures who once graced its halls, and learn about the radically new concepts and contraptions it introduced to the island. Museum research assistant Feng Chia-fu has taken a few minutes out of his day to talk with us about a building that would have dazzled the first Taiwanese people to see it.
In the heart of Taipei there’s a piece of Old Russia that serves up cakes fit for a Czar, but with a twist Taiwanese enough to appeal to local tastes. This is Cafe Astoria, a sweet little cafe with roots in bitter exile. Last week, the cafe’s current owner, Karen Chien, told us about the cafe’s founding by a Russian exile who fled both the Bolshevik Revolution and the communist takeover of China. We also heard how Karen's father became involved with the cafe, eventually becoming the owner. This week, we'll hear about the cafe's glory days as a center of Taipei's cultural scene, about how the cafe was forced to close, and how it's since returned--a much of a Taipei institution as ever.
Cafe Astori is an unexpected piece of old Russia right here in the middle of the Taipei. The menu includes fare once reserved for the czars themselves-- but that’s far from the cafe’s only selling point. Through its many years, its bakery and upstairs cafe have become a Taipei institution, frequented by past generations of political VIP’s and Taiwanese literary giants alike. Even today, it’s a popular spot to hang out with a good book. Karen Chien, the cafe’s current proprietor is a busy person, but she’s graciously taken some time to talk with us today about what’s become a family business and a unique fusion of Russia and Taiwan.
Every night, high in the mountains of Taiwan’s rugged center, a lone astronomer sits in an observatory control room monitoring the night sky. It’s solitary work, but for those who wish to unlock the secrets of the universe, it’s work that must be done. Here, the darkness of night is the kind of profound black that most modern people have forgotten, and the stars hang vividly in the cold, deep mountain air. Welcome to the Lulin Observatory, the place the astronomical community turns to when the rest of the world is bright with the sun. Site engineer Mr. Chang has helped bring back much of the observatory’s equipment from abroad and adapted it to Taiwan’s rugged interior. He joins us today for an overview of the observatory’s work and an explanation of the critical role Taiwan has to play in making our view of the night sky complete.
The sea goddess Mazu is deeply revered in Taiwan, and even COVID-19 has proved no match for the devotion people here feel for her. While the marathon processions held in her honor had to be postponed earlier in the year, Taiwan's early success fighting the disease means that they can now go ahead. It may not be the most famous overseas, but the Baishatun Mazu pilgrimage, set to begin in just a few days, is certainly one of the fastest-growing of these processions. This event goes back a few hundred years. But it's only in recent times that it's grown from an obscure, regional show of piety into an event where tens of thousands gather. What's the story behind this procession? Why has it suddenly gotten so big? And what measures are in place this year to keep COVID-19 at bay? I've called up Mr. Chen, a leading figure at the temple behind the event, to find out.
Plenty of mapmakers down the centuries have turned their attention to Taiwan. But none have left behind a map as beautiful or mysterious as whoever it was that made the Kangxi Taiwan Map. We know that this map was painted in imperial China several hundred years ago. And it doesn’t take a critic’s eye to see that it has artistic as well as geographical merit. It’s as much a painting as it is a map, and it’s no surprise that it’s been declared one of Taiwan’s national treasures. But that’s about where our knowledge of the map ends. Adding to the mystery is the fact that a large chunk of the original has been damaged beyond repair. All we have to go on to tell us what that part once looked like are two copies from the early 20th century. And these copies turn out to be riddled with errors. This hasn’t stopped experts from trying to reconstruct what the original looked like when still intact, though. And the results of this effort to re-envision how the map once looked are now on display in the National Taiwan Museum- next to the damaged original and the two later copies. That’s in a new exhibit called “The Dream Map: Kangxi Taiwan Maps Family Reunion”.
Taiwan has set itself an ambitious goal: wean itself off nuclear power and generate enough electricity from renewable resources to meet 20% of its power needs. The timetable for this goal? 2025. To reach such a difficult target, Taiwan will have to tap into every renewable resource it has. That includes wind and solar energy, or course, but also less visible sources, including one right beneath our feet. Taiwan is a tectonically active land, with plenty of hot springs and even a volcano or two. So what kind of potential does it have to generate geothermal power? There’s hardly a better person to put these kinds of questions to than Professor Song Sheng-Rong of National Taiwan University’s Department of Geosciences. He’s a member of multiple geothermal power organizations, advises on geothermal projects, and is part of an editorial committee for an academic geothermal power journal. And he's here today to talk about how much geothermal power Taiwan can hope to make.
What do you do when you have a burning question? In Taiwan, you do pretty much what you do anywhere else: look up the answer on Wikipedia. But what if your language doesn’t have a Wikipedia? Until the end of last year, that was the case for all of the languages spoken by Taiwan’s indigenous peoples. Then, in late 2019, one of these languages officially got on to Wikipedia. This Wikipedia now has 1,752 articles as I record this- hopefully more as you hear this. Which language is this? As it turns out, one of the smallest of the small.
It’s a rare person, who, in the midst of a historic crisis, stops to think about how future generations will look back on what’s still unfolding. Unless, of course, that person is the history business. The people at the National Museum of Taiwan History, for instance, know that the best time to start a new collection of historical artifacts is before they become historical in the first place- before people have a time to catch their breath and throw many objects associated with an event away. That’s why, early in the year, when it became clear that COVID-19 was about to become the sort of thing people would one day look back on, the museum’s staff was already primed to create a new collection for posterity. The museum’s Tseng Wan-lin is here today to explain how this COVID-19 collection is taking shape, why despite concerns, the museum is not taking much-needed medical supplies, and what objects from the times we live in are still on the museum’s wishlist.
It's exam season across Taiwan. And invariably, that means that Taiwan's Confucius Temples are busy with nervous students- and their parents- praying to the ancient sage for good results. But why? It's not clear whether Confucius himself had any religious beliefs, and in any case, what’s he got to do with exams? Here this week to clear things up is Mr. Chen, executive secretary of Taipei's Confucius Temple, one of the most famous anywhere in Taiwan.
When Taiwan’s professional baseball league started up its 2020 season in April, it created a stir among baseball fans worldwide, including fans who might not have even heard of Taiwan before. COVID-19 had shut down baseball everywhere else, and Taiwanese baseball was now the only game in town. But this was also the first season in decades where games were going to get English-language commentary. Richard Wang was one of the first to be approached about providing this commentary, and he's been telling us about what it's like in the booth during this rather surreal season, played mostly to empty stadiums. This week, he comments on the robotic cheerleaders rolled out this season and tells about where in the world Taiwanese baseball is enjoying the biggest viewership.
Last month, Taiwan’s professional baseball league launched its 2020 season. In any other year, this wouldn’t have attracted much notice beyond Taiwan’s borders. But this is 2020, and with the rest of the world reeling from COVID-19, the fact that the season was still happening at all was itself big news. At the time, Taiwan’s pro league was the only one in the world playing. The strict conditions it had to play under attracted still further international interest. And, just as this attention started coming in, it was announced that this season would be the first in decades to feature English-language commentary, providing a baseball-starved global audience with something it couldn’t get anywhere else. When the Eleven Sports Network hit on the idea of English commentary, one of the people it approached was veteran baseball correspondent Richard Wang, who covers US major league baseball for audiences here. Together with Canadian Wayne McNeil, they’ve been covering the home games of two teams, games the network has the rights to. And they’ve inspired imitators, with all teams announcing plans to roll out English coverage. So why exactly is it that this season has been able to go ahead? And what’s it like in the booth during this highly unusual time? Richard Wang joins us today to explain.
Every culture has a list of topics that are a bit taboo, the kinds of topics you’d struggle to broach even with close friends and relatives. In a lot of cultures, death is near the top of that list. So imagine walking into a room full of strangers to talk about death for more than an hour. Sounds awkward, right? Now imagine, though, that everyone ends up having such a great time that they want to keep talking well past the allotted time. This scenario isn’t really imaginary. This is exactly what happened at Taiwan’s first ever “death cafe” event, a blend of educational seminar, social hour, and group therapy session. What’s remarkable about these events is that no matter how morbid they may sound, for those who take part, they are a big relief. Kuo Hui-chun is the person who introduced these events to Taiwan. She’s since held them in every county in the country. She’s here this week to explain why gatherings with such a grim theme have become so popular.
When Chen Chien-hao was growing up, no one would have guessed he’d one day become the maker of award-winning wines. For one thing, the Taiwan Chen grew up in had only two types of wine available, neither of them exactly good. Only the state could legally make wine. Then there was the geography he had to work with. Taiwan straddles the tropics. It gets seasonal storms and has a hot, damp climate that doesn’t exactly call to mind any of the world’s famous wine regions. Still, Chen moved to France and mastered an art form he could still have been arrested for practicing back home. He’s since returned home, though, and created Taiwanese vintages that have won awards in ten countries. He joins us today for a look at his creations and his latest project- reviving the forgotten liquors of Taiwan’s past.
In Taiwan, there are several contenders for the title of best-loved native animal. Many people will name the Formosan black bear or Formosan sika deer. Bird lovers might point to the Taiwan blue magpie or Mikado pheasant. But a few might also nominate a fish- the Formosan landlocked salmon. It may not look like much, but this fish is so remarkable that the first biologists to hear about it refused to believe that it could even exist. Most of all, this fish is remarkable for its tenacity. Over the last hundred years, humans have devastated the species, but it has hung on. And now with human intervention, it has started coming back. For nearly 30 years, the recovery of this species has been a chief goal of Shei-pa National Park, and for 20 of these years the park's Liao Lin-yan has been working to achieve it. He's brought a kind of dedication to the task that you can only call admirable. Last year, he and his colleagues undertook the most recent population survey. This two-week job involved wading up and down 10km of stream and counting every fish they could find. Mr. Liao joins us this week to introduce this fish and what makes it so special. He'll tell us about their decline and recovery, the results of his survey, and why counting fish one by one is not as crazy as it sounds.
The Tomb Sweeping Festival is one of Taiwan’s four big traditional holidays. When this holiday comes around each spring, many people visit the graves of their ancestors and tidy them up. And then there are people like the Hakkas, an ethnic Chinese minority with its own language and customs, who do their tomb sweeping months ahead of the rest. Sam is Hakka on his father’s side, and since tomb sweeping is only done for male ancestors, his family does tomb sweeping Hakka style. He’s hear to tell us about the tomb sweeping customs his family follows and the rapidly changing attitudes younger Taiwanese people like himself have towards tomb sweeping.
Taiwan has (so far) been lucky. As public spaces across the world close due to fears about the novel coronavirus, Taiwan remains (mostly) open for business. I'm adding a lot of parentheses here, because some places have shut down and pretty much all big public events are on hold. Still, you don't have to look far to find plenty of public institutions that are open as usual. Book lovers will be pleased to know that among these places is Taiwan's National Central Library, a cavernous but comfy place in downtown Taipei. Granted, the building is big, but so too is the number of people who come to visit each day. So how is it that a place where so many come together is still open? And what measures are in place to keep staff and patrons safe? The library's director, Ms. Lee, joins us on the line this week with a look at how, even in a crisis like this, it continues to serve the reading public.
When the Mortuary Services Office of Taichung set up a new website a little over a year ago, they didn’t expect it would attract quite as much attention as it has. Their goal was simple—to give the friends and families of those laid to rest within the city limits a way to remember theirloved ones virtually when they can’t come to visit in person. Butt then came coronavirus and social distancing. Now, just ahead of a major holiday honoring the dead, some are looking to pay their respects to those who have passed without having to congregate at gravesites. So how exactly does this online memorial work? And might it catch on?
Join us this week for a look at the business and cultural links bridging the gap between Taiwan and Myanmar- and a look at the pioneering Taiwanese business people who have helped forge these links.
The ongoing coronavirus outbreak has driven demand for surgical masks sky-high across the globe. In Taiwan, as in other parts of the world, supplies are still short. But while in some countries the idea of wearing a mask in public is something radically novel, in Taiwan, it’s completely unremarkable. Here, people have been wearing masks since well before the outbreak began- a whole century before, to be exact. With masks on everyone’s mind, the National Museum of Taiwan History has put together a mini-exhibit on its Facebook page that shows how masks have evolved and how Taiwan's society has changed over the past 100 years. The museum's Su Feng-nan joins us for a history of Taiwan in masks.
In the 1980’s, there was a thriving piece of Taiwan in the heart of Buenos Aires. This was the Barrio Chino, or Chinatown, a part of the city where several waves of immigrants from Taiwan came together, opening shops and businesses and sending their children to Chinese-language schools on the weekends. This neighborhood is the subject of the 2016 documentary “Arribeños” by Argentine filmmaker Marcos Rodríguez, and while it’s not a film the members of RTI’s Spanish Service team have seen, it’s one that they almost don’t have too. Four of our Spanish language hosts here at RTI grew up in or around the neighborhood. One of them, Spanish Service Head Andrea Wang, was there at the neighborhood's height. Last week, she introduced the story of Taiwanese immigration to Argentina. Today, she is back with a look at why many Taiwanese people later chose to move, but why a piece of Argentina will always be in their hearts.
In 2016, the Argentine filmmaker Marcos Rodríguez explored the lives of Taiwanese immigrants who had made his country home during a period of twenty years. Though many of these Taiwanese people have since left the country, Rodríguez remembers a time when they filled a section of Buenos Aires called the Barrio Chino, or Chinatown. He now plans to shoot a sequel in Taiwan, following the stories of some of those who have made their way back to the island. Andrea Wang, of RTI’s Spanish service hasn’t seen Rodríguez’s film about Taiwanese immigrants, but she certainly remembers the place and time he seeks to depict in it. She was only six when she came to Argentina with her Taiwanese family. Today, she is one of four Argentine nationals of Taiwanese descent at RTI’s Spanish department, a telling sign of the outsized role this group plays in the life of Spanish-speaking Taiwan today. She joins me in the studio today to share her story as an immigrant to Argentina and a returnee to Taiwan.
Taiwan is chock-full of local cultural treasures and monuments to local history. But perhaps no part of Taiwan takes pride in its local history quite like Yilan County- a triangle that makes up Taiwan’s northeastern corner. Here, you can find the Institute of Yilan County History, a place where local people can research their genealogy, admire special artifacts of local significance, and go to exhibits and lectures on life as their ancestors would have known it. There’s nothing quite like this institute anywhere else in Taiwan, and here this week to talk with us about it is institute head Liao Ying-chieh.
It isn’t often that Taiwan’s national museum gets a new branch, but this year, it’s getting an entire new complex in Taipei. This was long the center of Taiwan’s railway network, and so fittingly enough, it is to be home to a new museum dedicated to Taiwan’s rail history. After nearly 30 years in the making, the new museum is set to open in late April. As final preparations for the opening of the Railway Ministry Park Museum get underway, I’ve reached out to its parent body, the National Taiwan Museum, for a sneak peak.
When people in Taiwan hear the name "Mailiao", those who know the place immediately think of the township's industrial park, oil refinery, and coal-fired power plant. But when locals hear the name, they instead picture the historical treasures found all around their home. The town now known for its smokestacks was once instead a thriving port with international trade, and beautiful historic buildings still recall that bygone age. The town's money back its heyday even attracted the best artisans and craftsmen from across the Taiwan Strait. In temples and old buildings, the were commissioned to leave behind carvings, and this is the only place in Taiwan where you can appreciate the work of these masters. Ms. Wu of the local cultural preservation society guides us through the town's past and its heritage in this week's edition of Curious John.
In Taiwan, the Lunar New Year holiday is a time for family and celebration- but for many, it’s also a time with a special religious significance. The calendar around this time of year is filled with private worship at home as well as special public events at temples, all designed to ensure that the year ahead is peaceful and prosperous. Some of these customs are common to ethnic Chinese around the world, but as we’ll find out this week, there are some New Year religious practices that are unique to Taiwan. Here this week to tell us about the beliefs surrounding the New Year is Professor Lin Mao-hsien, an authority on Taiwanese folklore.
Happy New Year! Across Taiwan this week, fireworks and firecrackers are filling the air as revelers celebrate the start of another year in the traditional lunar calendar. As you listen to this program, we have just left the Year of the Pig and entered the Year of the Rat. Both pig and rat are part of the traditional Chinese zodiac used to track the passage of years. There are twelve animals in this system, each in charge of a year in a predictable twelve-year cycle. Maybe you’ve heard of this zodiac before, and maybe you’re the sort of person who looks at zodiacs as simple superstition. But did you know that the Chinese zodiac has tangible, real-world effects on people’s lives? On the line with us this week to explain the zodiac and its impact is Professor Lin Mao-hsien, an expert in Taiwanese folklore.
For several decades now, Taiwan and its Southeast Asian neighbors have gorwn closer. For several weeks now, we’ve been exploring how, with a look at Taiwan’s growing Southeast Asian communities. So far, we’ve looked at three of the biggest, the Indonesian, Vietnamese, and Filipino communities. This week, we round out our look at Southeast Asians in Taiwan with an episode on Taiwan’s Thai people This is the fourth-largest of Taiwan’s Southeast Asian communities. But unlike the other groups we’ve looked at, it’s shrinking. To find out why, I’ve spoken to RTI Thai Service host Tao Yunsheng, himself a Thai immigrant.
Taiwan’s neighbor to the south, the Philippines, is increasingly making its presence felt here. A community of both migrant workers, white collar professionals, and permanent immigrants has grown up in recent years. Blogger and media personality Gen is at the center of it all- she runs YouTube Hello Philtai and appears on TV and at events- all with the goal of bridging the gap between Taiwan and the Philippines. Last week, she joined us for an overview of who is coming to Taiwan from the Philippines and why. This week, we’re continuing our discussion with a look at problems Philippine workers can face here. We’ll also hear more about the Philippine community, as well as Gen’s own story of coming to Taiwan and her views on efforts to bring the Philippines into Taiwan’s schools.
Over the past few years, Taiwan has started looking south to its neighbors in Southeast Asia- for workers,trade opportunities, and friends. When it comes to looking south, you can’t get much more geographically literal than looking towards the Philippines. The Philippines is Taiwan’s nearest Southeast Asian neighbor. The two are only separated by the Bashi Channel, just off Taiwan’s southern tip. It’s probably not surprising, then, that people from the Philippines form one of the larger Southeast Asian communities that’s grown up in Taiwan in recent years. For the past twelve years, Filipina immigrant Gen has watched this community gro, and these days, she speaks on its behalf, both on Taiwanese TV and on her YouTube channel, "Hello PhilTai The Filipino Voice". She joins us today for a look at what brings Filipinos and Filipinas to Taiwan and how they live here.
The International Chinese Language Program, or ICLP, is one of a number of programs in Taiwan that gets foreign learners of the Mandarin Chinese language into top condition. This is a proper language bootcamp, but the struggle is worth it, as students advance to greater and greater heights of proficiency in the space of just a few months. It's not the only program like this in Taiwan, either. But there are plenty of Chinese language programs around the world too, especially as the Chinese language grows in popularity and importance. So why come to Taiwan to study? The ICLP's head, Professor Kao, is back this week for a closer look at how his school operates and a few arguments for why, when it comes to learning Chinese, Taiwan is the place to be.
The International Chinese Language Program, or ICLP, is the kind of school that takes foreign learners of the Chinese language and whips them into shape. Within a few months, students that may have come in struggling with the language find themselves able to use it in practice, and students that may have come in with some experience advance to even greater heights. What's the school's secret? I've gotten in touch with Professor Kao, the school’s head, to find out.
When Tony Thamsir first came to Taiwan during the 1990’s, his home country, Indonesia, was relatively unknown here. He and some other ethnic Chinese Indonesians were among the first of their countrymen here, seeking a Chinese-language education forbidden back home, and ultimately fleeing ethnically-charged riots that targeted their families. These days, Indonesia has become hard to ignore. The number of Indonesians coming to Taiwan has risen sharply as thousands upon thousands of migrant workers and immigrants arrive. Despite all he and his family went through, Tony is still Indonesian to the core, and he’s made a career helping fellow Indonesians of all backgrounds adapt to life in Taiwan. Over the past two weeks, he’s given us an overview of who is coming here from Indonesia and why. He’s also shared the story of how he himself came to Taiwan. This week, he’s back for a look at what issues people from Indonesia still face in adapting to life here, and to finish telling his own story.
Many thousands of Indonesian have come to Taiwan in the past few decades looking for opportunity. Tony Thamsir is one of them. Tony knows Taiwan's Indonesian community well. As a radio host here at RTI and as a TV newsreader, he speaks directly to the community everyday. And as an advocate for Indonesian migrant workers, he speaks out for the community as well. Last week, Tony introduced Taiwan's Indonesian community- who is coming to Taiwan and why. This week, he's back to share his own story of coming to Taiwan, a story that's tied up in the ethnic strife that hit Indonesia during the 1990's.
When Tony Thamsir came to Taiwan in the 1990’s, many local people had only vague impressions of his home country, Indonesia. Now, around 25 years on, the situation has changed completely. Taiwan is actively looking to Indonesia- for trade, for friendship, and also for a source of labor. Thousands and thousands of Indonesians have come as temporary migrants, while others have settled down more permanently. And Tony is the bridge between these people and their new home. He broadcasts to Indonesian audiences from right here at RTI, and he’s also a fixture of Taiwan’s Indonesian-language TV news bulletin. He doesn’t just engage with his audience, either- he actively fights for their rights. With his insiders’ knowledge, there are perhaps few better people to ask about Taiwan’s Indonesian community. He joins us in the studio this week for a look at who’s making the move from Indonesia to Taiwan- and why.
After many years of sending its people off across the world in search of greener pastures, Taiwan has itself become a magnate for people looking for a better life. In the past few decades, a mix of migrant workers and permanent immigrants ready to put down roots has started to arrive on Taiwan’s shores. These new arrivals come mainly from the nearby countries of Southeast Asia, and one of the biggest new communities to arrive comes from Vietnam. Nguyen Thu Dinh is one of those Vietnamese people who has decided to stay and start a new life here. She joins us today to tell us how her connection with Taiwan started, and how recent years have seen the Vietnamese community here move from struggle to success.
In 1884, the seaside town of Danshui held its breath. French warships blockaded its harbor, and word came that a French force had taken nearby Keelung. Then, the tension finally broke early in October with a violent bombardment of the town followed a few days later by an attempted French landing . The Battle of Danshui was bloody, but the town’s defenders managed to push the landing force back to sea. This October, just over 135 years after the actual events, the Golden Bough Theater Troupe reenacted the story of the battle live. This is the second play the Golden Bough Troupe has done about the battle in the last ten years, and other troupes have also started writing their own adaptations of the story. What is about this battle that warrants so many retellings? And is this sort of historical reenactment common in Taiwan?
In 1995, a group of archaeologists got called in to see if they could find anything on a plot of land in Tainan. This was to be the site of a big project- the Tainan Science Park- and a routine check would be needed to make sure nothing important lay underneath. No one could have imagined the bonanza that waited under the ground. In a space of around 1000 hectares, archaeologists found 58 sites that paint a picture of local life going back 5000 years. The finds were so extensive they could fill a whole museum. Now, they finally do. The museum's Huang Hung-wen joins us today for a tour of the newly-opened exhibits and a look deep back into southern Taiwan’s prehistory.
Weddings are one of life's great milestones, and like any milestone, the customs surrounding them vary from place to place. So what's a Taiwanese wedding like? Find out this week in an interview with two RTI colleagues who are Taiwanese wedding veterans- people with real experience planning, hosting, and attending them.
For Andy Kincart, Taiwan's tea isn't just a beverage. For around 30 years, it's been a calling. His company, Eco-Cha, takes some of the best tea Taiwan has to offer and ships it to discerning customers around the world. Last week, Andy took us on a tour of Taiwanese tea and Taiwan's tea culture. But we haven't yet heard about how Andy first ventured into this world himself. This week, Andy is back to share his story and talk about how tea and its perception have changed, both in Taiwan and abroad.
Few foreigners know Taiwanese tea quite like Andy Kincart does. Over the past 30 years, it's become his calling. Today, his company finds the best teas Taiwan has to offer and brings them to discerning palates across the world. He joins us today for an introductory taste of Taiwanese tea and a look at its thriving tea culture.
They are mighty hunters that could easily be mistaken for house cats. They stalk across a huge chunk of Asia that cuts from Afghanistan to Indonesia and Korea. They are the traditional masters of Taiwan’s wild places too. But while their worldwide population is considered healthy, in Taiwan, they are in trouble, victims of over-development, and often, drivers who fail to brake in time. These are leopard cats, a species that Taiwan is learning to love. In large part, this is thanks to the work of groups like the Leopard Cat Association of Taiwan, a group dedicated to the protection of the species. One of the association’s leading members joins us today for a closer look at these creatures, the threats they face, and work to encourage their return to Taiwan’s wilderness.
Friday was World Animal Day, a day dedicated to promoting animal welfare across the world. Taiwan is one part of the world where animal welfare has improved markedly in recent decades- and not just for cats and dogs or the endangered species you might be thinking of. Even Taiwan’s smallest animals are the focus of growing concern. One of the groups at the forefront of protecting smaller creatures here is the Taiwan Stray Bunny Protection Association, a group that has spent the past ten years rescuing abandoned rabbits and putting them into good homes. Last week, I had the chance to attend one of the group’s monthly adoption drives. Hsieh Pao-tsu was in charge of the event. She’s been rescuing rabbits for ten years now, and she now heads the organization’s rescue division. She took a few minutes to step away from the event to tell us about the organization’s work
In most parts of the world, the word reservoir conjures up several images, but a fun day out probably isn't one of them. In northern Taiwan, though, things are different. For around 50 years, the Shihmen Reservoir has been one of the region’s most important public works, giving water and power to millions. And while it might sound bizarre to outsiders, most people who hear the name think not of concrete and engineering but of weekends filled with outdoor activities and an endless variety of good food. Local tourism official Mr. Yang joins us today for a look at the reservoir and what exactly has endeared it to generations of people.
The Minxiong Ghost House among Taiwan’s four big haunted houses and it was voted one of Taiwan’s most haunted places in an online poll this year. It certainly looks the part. The old brick mansion sits abandoned in a patch of forest. It’s an eerie shell, wrapped in a dense web of roots and branches, more tree than building in some places. But where does this building’s spooky reputation actually come from? If anyone knows the answer, it’s probably Mr. Hsu. He’s run a cafe next to the abandoned mansion for a number of years now. In addition to answering questions about the gloomy ruins next door, he also take visitors inside from time to time. He joins us today for a look at the ghost house’s murky story.
He was a decorated WWII general, respected by the best military minds of his age. Later, during the Chinese Civil War, he fought for the Republic of China again, sending communist forces packing. Some say he could have changed the course the war completely. But General Sun’s career was cut short, he got caught up in the politics of the age, and he spent more than 30 years under house arrest. Today, the General Sun Li-jen Residence in Taipei is keeping his memory alive. Last week, the hall’s director told us the story of Sun’s rise and fall. Today, he’s back again to tell us about the history of the building itself, and to tell us the story of the general’s final years
He was a man who helped make history. And, some believe, he might have changed it entirely, if only he’d been allowed to. He won multiple decorations, the respect of his generation’s greatest military minds, and even the moniker “Rommel of the East”. In the end, though, General Sun Li-jen spent more than 30 years under house arrest, just another victim of Taiwan’s era of authoritarian rule. He's since been vindicated, though, and he’s never been forgotten. One place where he’s remembered today is a busy restaurant and reception hall. It’s seems an odd place to remember a historical figure . But this was General Sun’s home for eight years during a fateful period of his life. The head of the General Sun Li-jen Residence joins us today for a look at the man behind the medals.
Just outside the urban rush of the port city of Kaohsiung, there’s a big patch of green unlike anything else in Taiwan. It’s a group of mountains that are ringed in cycling and hiking paths, filled with historic sites, and roamed by troupes of monkeys. The rugged landscape offers birds’ eye views of the city and the great container ships anchored offshore, and the mountains command impressive views of some of Taiwan’s best sunsets. It’s a place many have felt deserves to be protected as a national park, and yet it’s not- at least not quite. This is Shoushan National Nature Park. What treasures are protected here? What exactly is a national nature park, anyway? Here today to tell us is the park’s Mr. Lu.
In the northern Taiwanese town of Beipu, Chiang A-hsin is remembered as a renaissance man, but above all as a businessman- at one point around half the town’s population was on his payroll. In later years, market collapse would leave him bankrupt and force his family to leave the area for better opportunities in Taipei. But former employees continued to visit him on his birthday, and the children of those employees still gather in his honor. A well-appointed house Chiang built for business meetings still stands in his hometown. It’s now on the register of Hsinchu County’s historic buildings, and just last year it opened to the public. Local expert on the building Mr. Huang joins us today to discuss the building, but also the man behind it, who still evokes warm memories in his hometown today.
Summers in Taiwan are hot, sticky affairs. But Taiwanese people know how to get through them in style. Many tourists, especially those from Asia, come for air conditioned shaved ice shops and cold treats like mango ice. Guidebooks and ads aimed at tourists make it all seem quintessentially Taiwanese. But just a bit over a century ago, there was no air conditioning- not so much as a fan. There was no ice either, and even if there had been, people would have told you that icy treats are bad for the health. How, then, did the Taiwanese summer as we know it come to be? The 207 museum in Taipei has the answer in a new exhibit about the summers of years long past.
Kenting National Park is Taiwan’s tropical playground. The park straddles the south coast of the Hengchun Peninsula, the furthest south you can get in Taiwan. Here, on the Bashi Strait that separates the island from the Philippines, you’ll find warm, sunny beaches, sand and surf, and a lot of other things you might not associate with a tropical getaway at all. Here to tell us about it this week is park guide Chen Guanru.
The town of Puli in Taiwan’s central heart is Taiwan’s old brewing capital, a place with rice wine so good it was once literally deemed fit for royalty. For nearly a century, the town’s brewery reigned unchallenged as part of a government monopoly system, slaking Taiwan’s thirst and providing alcohol for celebrations big and small across the island. Recent years have thrown just about every disaster they could at Puli’s brewery- wild shifts in taste, the arrival of fierce competition, and to top things off, a catastrophic earthquake. And yet, even in today’s Taiwan, Puli still stands for brewing, and crowds of tourists still make their way to the local brewery to see where the magic happens.
It is sadly common to hear of great art being stolen. But usually, art thieves stick to museums, and usually, they’ll go after works by big name artists. That’s why the 1980 theft of works by Taiwanese sculptor Wang Ye was so bizarre. First, there was the thieves’ choice of target: clay figurines adorning the walls of a rural temple.Then there was the fact that Wang Ye was pretty much unknown. Even the temple didn’t notice the missing sculptures until two days after the burglary. But it turned out that the thieves knew good art when they saw it. The 56 pieces they stole were sold abroad, apparently racking up a small fortune. In other words. Now, after missing for decades, some of the stolen works are back in the temple’s care, treasured as they’d never been before and housed in a specially built museum.
Hidden away in the southern port city of Kaohsiung is an important piece of Taiwan’s military history. It’s a wireless military broadcast station that once sent coded messages and secret instructions to ships out at sea. Later, it became a prison where suspected communists in the navy were held In recent years, people have started to appreciate the station’s historic value. Some buildings on the site have been fixed up, and it’s been steadily promoted to the rank of national grade site. But it’s still a work in progress, and it’s still unclear what the site’s future will bring. Ku Chao-kuang is the military history preservationist behind the station’s rescue and refurbishment. He’s with us on the line today for a look at the station’s secretive past and the uphill battle he’s fought to keep the site in good shape.
If it wasn’t for a plaque by the side of the road, there wouldn’t be much to announce the Qubing Archaeological Site. Tucked away anonymously behind a chain-link fence, it looks more like an ordinary field than anything else. This and the site’s location among thinly populated mountains mean that most people in Taiwan have never heard of it. Yet finds here have impressed government experts so much that they’ve voted to name Qubing a site of national importance. How has such an unassuming plot of grass attracted so much attention? Joining us today as we dip our toes into Taiwan’s prehistory is culture ministry official Chang Jen-chi.
Once, life on the outlying island of Kinmen was tough. For many of the island’s people, there were two options- work the land or fish on the sea. But not everyone was satisfied with these choices, and by around 100 years ago, ambitious islanders were setting off to make their fortunes in the rich markets of Southeast Asia. Among those who succeeded was a man named Chen Jinglan, a man who wanted to use his wealth to make a difference. Chen decided to build a school, the first school his home village had known. Today, the proud, stately school building is still there, and it’s a building with quite a story to tell. Here to fill us in is Ms. Yang, who works in the building today.
Taiwan has a range of historic sites that still serve some function today. But there are some sites that are a bit tricky to find uses for. They may be beautifully restored and well-cared for, but what do you do with these places? One solution that’s been tried to great success in Taiwan is to let private companies step in and find their own ways of giving these sites a new life. The central city of Taichung is home to one notable success story. It’s an old martial arts hall that’s beenturned into a popular weekend hangout called the Natural Way Six Arts Cultural Center. The center’s director Chen Yujie is with us this week for a look at the history of the site and its transformation into a hip part of the local cultural scene.
Stretched out along Taiwan’s southwest seaboard are miles of rich mangrove swamps and marshy wetlands. The whole area is full of wildlife, scenic views, and history. Protecting it is the job of Taijiang National Park, one of the newest members of Taiwan’s national park system. Taijiang’s waterlogged, salty landscape may not be the first thing that comes to mind when people think of Taiwan’s national parks. But the park’s Mr. Chen says, that’s not due to any lack of attractions. He joins us on the line this week to introduce this unique park and what it is that sets it apart from the rest.
The Formosan rock macaque is one of the most distinctive of Taiwan’s animals. Aside from humans, it’s the only primate native to this island. It was once listed as an endangered species, but these days, macaque numbers are healthy and stable. But as the Formosan rock macaque flourishes, interactions with humans increase, and often, not for the better. Clashes with farmers and tourists in particular seem to be unavoidable. Now, Taiwan’s Forestry Bureau is stepping in, developing ways to defuse conflict between people and their monkey neighbors. Bureau conservation expert Luo Youjuan is here today to introduce the monkeys and efforts to make peaceful coexistence more practical.
They’re Taiwan’s unofficial mascots, and they’re everywhere. The Tourism Bureau has one. The city of Taipei has one. They’re an animal that represents the soul of Taiwan. Yet twenty-odd years ago, when Professor Hwang Mei-Hsiu started researching them, few people in Taiwan had heard of them. And even today, with their newfound popularity, you’ll be hard-pressed to find one outside a zoo. This is the Formosan Black Bear, Taiwan’s only bear species. Professor Hwang has dedicated years to their study and conservation, earning her the nickname “bear mama”. She joins us today to introduce these bears and tell us the story of how she became their ambassador.
Taiwan is a small island shaped by big tectonic forces. Its surface is fractured with fault lines that regularly cause the ground to shake. Most of these gashes are hidden from view, but there is at least one place in Taiwan where anyone can plainly see what one of these tears in the earth looks like. This is the Chelungpu Fault Preservation Park, a place where visitors can walk right up to an exposed section of a quiet but destructive fault that rips through central Taiwan. The park’s Ms. Chan joins us today for a look at the Chelungpu Fault and the park’s goal of bringing earth science to the masses.
The central city of Taichung is home to a piece of Taiwan’s radio history. Though its transmitters have long fallen silent, the Taichung Broadcasting Bureau is still buzzing with activity. There, you can find a rare look into what the radio stations of more than 80 years ago looked like. Looking into its story, you can also encounter an important turning point in the history of Taiwan’s architecture, uncover the ways Taiwan’s people once listened to the radio, and see the rolls radio has played in Taiwan’s past. Here this week to tell us more about this vintage broadcasting house is its head, Mr. Fu.
Anyone who’s ever set foot in a Taiwanese temple or held a Taiwanese teapot knows that Taiwan’s traditional craftsmen are exceptional at what they do. But while traditional designs and patterns remain popular, these days, many Taiwanese craftspeople are stepping outside the bounds of tradition. A lot of this daring experimentation is thanks to the National Taiwan Craft Research and Development Institute. The institute's Mr. Hsu joins us this week to tell us more about craftsmanship in Taiwan and the organization’s work to bring it forward.
Hualien’s Pine Garden is aptly named- this charming little building is surrounded by towering pines, each over a hundred years old. The building sits in a beautiful spot, high on a hill overlooking the Pacific. In nice weather, you can take a quiet stroll around the grounds and maybe pop inside for a look at some art. But cute though it is today, the Pine Garden was never meant as a place for relaxation, and you can see that soon enough. There’s been no effort to mask what this place was really for or the dark legend that’s gathered around it. Here today to tell us this building’s story is the garden’s Luo Man-ling.
In the early 20th century, Ji’an Township on Taiwan’s east coast was the site of an experiment. Taiwan had recently come under Japanese colonial rule and the island’s new rulers wanted to try and transplant a Japanese community here. One of the only remains of this community is a Buddhist temple, the Qingxiuyuan. Now a local cultural property, this temple reminds of a side of Taiwan’s colonial past we don’t often think of- civilians who came to live here. The temple’s Chen Yi-cheng joins us this week for a look at why these people came to Taiwan and what their lives here were like.
Among Taiwan’s nine national parks, Kinmen National Park stands alone. It sits on the outlying island of Kinmen, far closer to the Chinese mainland than to Taiwan proper. Inside the park’s bounds, you won’t find any of the towering mountains or tropical waters that set apart so many other national parks here. But what the park does have to offer, you won’t find anywhere else. This time, the park's Mr. Chen guides us through the monuments and sights visitors won't want to miss.
Among Taiwan’s nine national parks, Kinmen is something of an outlier. It sits on the island of Kinmen, far closer to the Chinese mainland than to Taiwan proper. It has none of the high mountain landscapes or tropical waters that are the hallmarks of so many of its fellow national parks. But what the park does have none of the others can claim- scores of historic buildings and a battle-scarred military heritage that was long off-limits to outsiders. Joining us on the line today is Kinmen National Park’s Mr. Chen, a Kinmen native.
One of Taiwan’s greatest spots for tourism lies not on Taiwan itself but a ways offshore, in the middle of the Taiwan Strait. Penghu is a cluster of islands administered from Taiwan but with a laidback pace and maritime feel that are all its own. These islands have a lot to offer travelers looking for some sunshine and a nice ocean breeze. There are perfect beaches, places to snorkel and fish, and once all that’s left you hungry, plenty of distinctive local foods to try. Here to tell us about the islands and their special charm is Chen Mei-ling of the Penghu County tourism bureau.
For millennia, a river in eastern Taiwan has been patiently gouging away at layers of marble, carving out a deep, narrow gorge that twists between mountains and cliffs until finally tumbling out into the Pacific. This is Taroko Gorge, one of the wonders of Taiwan and one of the island’s most visited sights. The gorge is the centerpiece of Taroko National Park on Taiwan’s east coast and it’s the park’s most popular attraction. But the ancient gorge is just the beginning of what this remarkable place has to offer visitors. Here today to tell us about this spectacular corner of Taiwan is the park’s Lin Mao-yao.
In Taiwan, the sea goddess Mazu is a big deal. Given that Taiwan is surrounded by the ocean, this may not be too surprising. But Taiwan’s greatest act of devotion to the goddess takes place not on the waves but on land. It’s one of the world’s great religious events, a procession that lasts for more than a week and attracts a sea of worshippers along the whole route. With the countdown to this year’s event nearing its end, I’ve got in touch with the Zheng Mingkun head of the temple behind this event. He’s here to tells us where this procession comes from and why, despite the crowds, it’s an event that brings out the best in Taiwan.
It’s not often you get to sit down and talk with a real, living national treasure, especially in their living room. But that’s exactly what I had the opportunity to do a few weeks ago when I visited the home of Lin Yuezhang. Mr. Lin is a master of budaixi, a sophisticated form of puppet theater with deep roots in Taiwan. Mr. Lin’s family has now been performing budaixi for four generations. But he says his generation will be the last. And, he says, his isn’t the only performing family calling it quits. Today, Mr. Lin takes us on a tour through the world of budaixi and explains why he thinks it is a threatened art form.
Taitung, on Taiwan’s southeast coast, is a quiet place loved for its natural beauty. But once a year, when the Lantern Festival comes around, this corner of Taiwan erupts into a firestorm. This barrage has one purpose- to hit a living target. Welcome to the Zhahandan Festival, a fiery Lantern Festival tradition in which people volunteer to be hit with firecrackers. If you’re first thought on hearing about this event is “who would do that?”, you aren’t alone. To help us wrap our heads around the Zhahandan Festival this week is Li Wen-chung from Taitung’s city hall.
In the southern town of Yanshui, the Lantern Festival is an explosive affair. While much of Taiwan is enjoying a quiet bowl of sweet rice balls or admiring a nice lantern display, the people of Yanshui are busy shooting rockets at each other. Where did the idea for this tradition come from? And what is it that motivates people to step into the line of fire? Here to tell us is Yanshui District head Lu Huang-nan.
As the Lunar New Year approaches, thin booklets appear in many Taiwanese homes. These are traditional almanacs, an overview of how to make the year as lucky as possible. There are plenty of predictions inside, but they’re also compendia of traditional knowledge. These almanacs are fairly common, but how widely are they used? Do people rely on their guidance or just consult them casually? And with publishing’s decline in Taiwan, will they one day be a thing of the past?
Alishan is a forested mountain in Taiwan’s southwest. It’s known for its ancient trees, its cool tea plantations, and its views of the morning sun breaking through thick cloud that form far down the slopes. This magical place is the home of the indigenous Tsou People. Alongside the misty scenery and fine local tea, it is the chance to experience Tsou culture that makes Alishan one of Taiwan’s biggest tourist attractions. Joining us this week to introduce the Tsou people is Mayor Du Liquan of Alishan Township.
How do the Taiwanese celebrate the Lunar New Year? It's a question that can be hard to answer unless you're invited along to a celebration. Luckily, this week, an expert guest to break the holiday down for us day by day. She's an octogenarian queen of the kitchen and mother-in-law to someone you may know: RTI's own Shirley Lin. Let's get celebrating!
Taiwan is famous for its tea. And thanks dedicated team of researchers spread across the island, Taiwan's tea is always getting better. But what's there to improve? And what have these researchers achieved? This week, we join the head of one research station to find out.
Come explore the North Coast and Guanyinshan National Scenic Area, a part of Taiwan full of wild coastline, geological wonders, culture, history, and good food.
Incense is an important part of many Taiwanese people's religious life. But it has more than spiritual uses. Today, veteran incense maker and founder of the Singang Incense Artistic Culture Garden, Chen Wen-chung, joins us. We'll be looking at incense, what it's made of, how it's made, and how Mr. Chen believes it should be incorporated into everyday life.
Out in the South China Sea there is an unusual national park. There are no selfie-taking tourists here, or any visitors at all for that matter. This is the Dongsha Atoll National Park, a tiny sliver of land and a big area of protected tropical sea. Only authorized staff and researchers are allowed. What's being protected here? And will the no visitors rule stand forever? This week, a park administrator reveals all.
As Taiwanese tourist spots go, you can't get much more famous than Sun Moon Lake. But why? The area's famous products alone could fill up a whole page, but there's also scenic views and outdoor activities year-round. Tune in this week for a second installment of the good life by the lake.
Ask almost anyone from Taiwan to make a list of the best tourist attractions here and Sun Moon Lake will come near the top of the list almost every time. The lake takes on almost surreal colors throughout the day. But there's more than natural beauty to the place. This week, meet the lake, hear the story of how the Thao people discovered it, and look at its rich history.
In the northern town of Jiufen, a monument stands to a bygone golden age. Once, this was a center of gold mining in Taiwan, but the shuttering of the mines plunged the area into a slump. Now alive again with tourism, the town is home to a private museum set up in a converted home by one retired miner. What drove him to make this place his life's work? And what's inside the museum today? Join one of the museum's curators- the founder's granddaughter- for a look inside the museum.
The rugged Jiufen area along Taiwan’s north coast is steeped in gold. For decades, the chance to make a fortune overnight was real there. And though its golden days may be over, the area is still home to a private museum celebrating a golden heritage. Join third-generation curator Tseng Yi-hsian for a journey into the mines of her grandfather's day at the Jiufen Gold Ore Museum.
At religious events in Taiwan, there are times when gods walk the earth. Specially trained worshippers paint up their faces and don the garb of gods called the eight generals. Find out more about these gods and the people who impersonate them this week, with a member of a leading troupe as our guide.
The mouth of the Danshui River, downstream from Taipei, may not seem like a very green sort of place. But the riverbanks are home to an important eco-system: the mangrove swamp. Learn about these swamps and the way they protect the city as we visit the Hongshulin Mangrove Ecocenter.
Taiwan's top research institute Academia Sinica is full of surprises. Among them is the Museum of the Institute of Ethnology, tucked away in a corner of its Taipei campus. The museum gives a good introduction to the peoples who call Taiwan home, and today we're paying the museum a visit to see the treasures it contains.
The Taokas are one of Taiwan's unrecognized groups of indigenous people. But Taokas people themselves haven't forgotten who they are or where they come from. Join Taokas Kaisanan for a dive into Taokas history and culture, and a look at the possibility of gaining official status.
The Kaxabu are one of Taiwan’s groups of so-called “plains aborigines”. Though, like many plains aboriginal groups, the Kaxabu fall outside the government’s official list of indigenous peoples, they still retain many parts of their culture and they still speak their own language. Pan Pao-feng is one of the people to know for those with questions about the Kaxabu. She has Kaxabu ancestry herself and has written her thesis on magical Kaxabu folklore. Her relatives include authorities on everything from Kaxabu music and healing practices to the Kaxabu language. Last week, she introduced her people and some of its customs, and she also talked about her research into Kaxabu magic. This week, she’s back for a look at the Kaxabu language and its revival, as well as obstacles in its way. We’ll also hear from her about outsiders’ longstanding confusion between the Kaxabu and another group of her ancestors, the Pazeh people.
The Kaxabu people are one of Taiwan’s groups of so-called “plains aborigines”. Like many other groups that fall into this category, the Kaxabu don’t hold official indigenous status. But despite not having government recognition, the Kaxabu still hold on to many aspects of their culture, and their language, while endangered, is still in use. If you want to learn more about the Kaxabu, Pan Pao-feng is one of the best people to talk to. She has Kaxabu ancestry, and she’s written a thesis on her people’s traditional magic. She’s also related to important figures in just about every area of Kaxabu life and culture, from authorities on the language and makers of traditional clothing to skilled traditional healers. Over the next two weeks, she’ll be with us to share Kaxabu traditions, introduce some Kaxabu phrases, and tackle the big issues of Kaxabu identity and work towards official status.
Hints of Autumn have come to Taiwan, and as the weather slowly starts to cool over the coming months, people’s minds will gradually turn to a reliable Taiwanese way of keeping warm. Taiwan’s tectonically active place in the world near the meeting of plates gives the island an abundance of hot springs. Some are milky white, some rusty red, and some come straight out of the sea, but all offer a nice soothing way to get out of the cold, and- some suggest- even health benefits. Though the custom of bathing in them only became widespread a bit over a century ago, Taiwan’s springs are today a tourist asset, a source of comfort in chilly weather, and, some research suggests, a source of healing too. My guest today, Chang Jung-nan, is a man who wears many hats. He is director of the Hot Spring Tourism Association, Taiwan, and, among other things, the author of books on Taiwan’s hot springs, too. He joins us today to give us an overview of Taiwan’s hot springs and Taiwan’s hot spring culture.
The name of the mountain Lalashan comes from a word in the local Atayal language meaning “beautiful”, and you only have to visit once to see how well the name fits. It’s a place in the interior of Taoyuan in northern Taiwan, where fruit orchards and stands of ancient trees both grow, and dramatic sunsets and thick mountain mists are both regular parts of life. The air is clear and temperatures cool. Since 1986, the Lalashan Nature Reserve has protected all this beauty, leaving local trees and animals alone to thrive. On the line this week to tell us about the reserve is Yeh Tson-Fu, head of Taoyuan’s Scenic Area Service Agency.
Millenia after his lifetime, Confucius remains a figure of reverence in ethnic Chinese communities around the world. Here in Taiwan, Confucian temples recently marked the anniversary of the great teacher’s birth with the customary ceremonies and with ritual dance and music not seen at other times of year. The pomp and circumstance is impressive to see, but even to someone raised here, the actual meaning of it all can be a bit opaque. To help clear things up, I’ve enlisted the help of Cheng Mei-li, of the Zuoying Confucius Temple in the southern city of Kaohsiung. Last week, she filled us in on who Confucius was, reduced his teachings down to the simplest terms, and walked us through the story of Confucianism in Taiwan. This week she’s back to give us a general view of the intricate rites held in Confucius’ honor- including recent changes that bring these rites more in line with contemporary values. First though, she gives us a tour of the Zuoying Confucius Temple.
For millennia, Confucius has been a figure of veneration in ethnic Chinese societies around the world. In Taiwan, a tradition of reverence for the great teacher goes back several centuries, and over time, many temples to Confucius have been built here. In these temples, one of the biggest annual events takes place on September 28, when Taiwan marks Teachers’ Day, a holiday meant to commemorate Confucius’ Birthday. This is a time of year when lavish ceremonies are held to honor Confucius. But what’s all this pomp about? Who was Confucius, and what do the solemnities around him actually involve? Here to tell us over the next two weeks is Cheng Mei-li of the Zuoying Confucius Temple in Kaohsiung, one of the places where visitors can come to see the rituals in action. Today, we start off the series with some history.
Yushan National Park rises up in the middle of Taiwan’s high central mountains. From its lowest point at around 300m above sea level, the park soars up to some of Taiwan’s highest peaks. At the top of it all, at 3952m, is Taiwan’s highest summit and the park’s namesake, Yushan, or Jade Mountain. It’s a place of varied climates with varied plants and animals. In last week’s program, with the park’s Lin Wen-he as our guide, we took at look at some of the local wildlife and natural history. This week, Mr. Lin is here to guide us again as we explore the area’s indigenous culture, look back at the park’s history, and see how strict conservation policies have boosted animal populations.
Yushan National Park is home to some of Taiwan’s highest peaks. It’s a hikers’ paradise and a place anyone serious about conquering Asia’s great summits will be sure not to miss. Towering over it all is the park’s namesake- Yushan, or Jade Mountain in English. Atop Jade Mountain is Taiwan’s highest point, and so Jade Mountain itself has become a symbol of Taiwan. The park isn’t all soaring peaks and thin, cold air, though. Inside, you’ll find a range of elevations and microclimates, home to a range of plants and animals. There’s culture and history to explore too. Indigenous people living in the park still observe the same ceremonies their ancestors did, and there’s a story behind the park itself too. Over the next two weeks, the park’s Lin Wenhe will be joining us to share the best of what this rugged area has to offer.
For a few weeks each year, late in the summer, spirits roam the earth. This is ghost month, a period filled with traditional events and taboos. In Taiwan, the details of ghost month events vary from place to place. But there is one event that is held everywhere- the pudu ceremony. This involves a feast laid out for the spirits that is meant to give them solace and earn their good will. Temples, businesses, neighborhood associations, and even private households prepare these ghost month offerings. So, too, does RTI. For those who didn’t grow up with it, this annual ceremony leaves a lot of questions. And so, two weeks ago, as RTI’s ceremony was going on, I pulled aside station secretary-general Wu Jui-wen to get some answers. Now, with just another day to go before ghost month ends, I’m sharing what I learned with you.
For thousands of years, ethnic Chinese people have been burning paper effigies of real objects as offerings to the dead. Luxury goods, things the deceased always wanted but never got in life, and even just their favorite things- all are made in paper form and sent to the other side as smoke. But times change and so should paper offerings. That’s the philosophy at Skea, a Taiwanese company that makes them. Company founder Ms. Han is here today to talk about her path to making these offerings for a living- a path that seemed crazy to some, but which has brought comfort and healing to many.
Taiwan’s indigenous peoples have a long history of shaping clay into objects of beauty. Different groups have long crafted everything from practical everyday wares to objects of strong cultural importance. The story of indigenous pottery in Taiwan is one that’s still ongoing thanks to a revival of traditional forms and the work of contemporary artists looking to take their ancestors’ pottery in new directions. This whole wealth of pottery creations, from traditional to contemporary, has been on the road for close to a year in a traveling exhibit that’s made its way to three museums. It’s now in its final weeks at the National Museum of Prehistory in the southeastern city of Taitung. Here to introduce this exhibit is its organizer and curator, Professor Wang Yu-hsin.
Xiaolin Village is in a rural part of Taiwan’s south. It’s home to members of the Taivoan people. This is one several so-called “pingpu” or “plains aborigine” groups that fall outside the government’s official list of indigenous peoples. Recognized or not, though, the Taivoan people of Xiaolin hold on tightly to many traditions and have brought back others that had once fallen away. These are tenacious people. Their culture isn’t the only thing they’ve brought back to life. Since 2009, when a landslide killed much of Xiaolin’s population, the survivors have resurrected an entire community. The story of the local Taivoan people and their rebuilding after devastation is told in the Xiaolin Pingpu Cultural Museum. Here to share this story with us today is local cultural expert Wang Min-liang.
Taiwan's tea masters are magicians, alchemists who, through a perfectly controlled process, take some simple leaves and turn them into perfection. That's the idea behind "The Great Tea Alchemists: Craftsmanship of Tea Production in Taiwan", an exhibit stretching over most of this year at the Pinglin Tea Museum. If there’s a place in Taiwan where people know what it means to be a tea master, it’s the museum's home, the Pinglin District. There in the mountains outside of Taipei, the majority of the population- over 80%- works in the tea business, cultivating, but also treating and fermenting the tea themselves. Many also sell their own product. Here for a look behind the scenes at the magic of Taiwan's tea alchemists is Ms. Liu, director of the museum.
Clothing can be revealing. A garment can say a lot about the society that produced it- at least to those who know what to look for. The clothing of Taiwan’s indigenous peoples has a lot to say in particular, revealing something of local conditions, social structures, and outside cultural influence, as well as a keen sense of the practical and the beautiful. The varied clothing of indigenous Taiwan is the subject of “Innumerable Efforts on the Art of Clothes”, an ambitious exhibit going on now in Chiayi, at the Southern Branch of the National Palace Museum.
Beneath the waves on sea floors around the world are the remnants of tiny ancient animals. Indiscernible to the human eye, these marine microfossils might at first seem trivial. But studied in labs, they can open up a wealth of information about the environments of the earth’s past. And looked at through a microscope, they reveal a dizzying world of geometric beauty. Since the creatures that leave these marine microfossils behind prefer to live in different conditions, different parts of the world may have a distinctive mix of species. The waters off Taiwan are no exception, and the microfossils of the seas that surround Taiwan have been carefully studied for many decades. The world of marine microfossils is the subject of a new exhibit at Taipei’s National Taiwan Museum, part of a series of exhibits celebrating the museum’s 110th anniversary. Here to offer a peek into the exhibit and the surprisingly big world of tiny marine fossils is the exhibit’s designer, Professor Lee Meng-yang of the University of Taipei’s Department of Earth and Life Science.
The Siraya National Scenic Area is one of the highlights of Taiwan’s southwest. Running for more than 95,000 hectares, it shelters everything from butterflies and birds to monkeys and other, bigger wildlife. There are forested mountains here, along with busy, thriving farms, and even a stretch of mysterious, barren moonscape. Last week, with scenic area secretary Shih Tsung-hung as our guide, we heard all about the scenic area’s wild places and the animals that call them home. We also got a taste of the scenic area’s strange natural features, including hot mud springs and a hole in the ground that sends forth both water and fire. This week, Mr. Shih joins us again to look at the human side of the scenic area- the local indigenous people and the local historic sites. He’ll also be taking us through the big cycle of festivals that mark the changing of seasons down in Taiwan’s beautiful, sunny south.
A large stretch of southern Taiwan’s interior falls within the Siraya National Scenic Area. The scenic area was founded late in 2005, but it seems like the kind of place that should have attracted notice much earlier. All of its 95,000 plus hectares are stunning, but this is far more than a collection of scenic spots. There’s a bit of everything here, from strange geology to indigenous culture, historic relics, and of course, a great deal of unspoiled nature. Here, a long list of events and goings-on follows the changing of the seasons and makes every part of the year special. Here with us this week to share what the area has to offer is one of the officials in charge, Secretary Shih Tsung-hung.
There’s something brewing in Matsu Islands. There’s been something brewing there for many decades now- a liquor called kaoliang. For a long time, this distinctive liquor was a local secret. But the Matsu Islands are now firmly linked to this liquor in the Taiwanese imagination. There is even a plan underway to introduce it to a broader audience. Here this week to discuss Matsu’s kaoliang liquor is Liu Chiu-ming, CEO of the islands’ local brewer, the Matsu Liquor Factory Industry Co., Ltd.