◎ Images of Miaoli <2008-11-17>
| Images of Miaoli |
| A Visit to an Indigenous Tribe and an Old Pottery Kiln |
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Miaoli County is one of the less-visited areas of Taiwan, but that doesn’t mean there are not a lot of fascinating discoveries to be made.
By Nathan Godolphin |
Photos / Sunny Su; Map / Otto Huang
s I left the house, birds were singing of my retreat. Eagerly anticipating the next couple of days, Sunny — my travel companion — and I were headed to Miaoli County, in northwestern Taiwan. Our first day was to be spent in a village of the indigenous Saisiyat tribe, near the town of Nanzhuang. Staying in the mountains there overnight, we were to leave early next morning for Hwatao Pottery Kiln and its surrounding gardens.
 Arriving at Zhunan Station after taking our first train from the city of Banqiao in Taipei County a little before 7 am, we crossed the road to a small, family-run convenience store. This, it turned out, was also the bus stop. It signaled a change of pace and a shift in lifestyle from the pragmatism of city ways. Within minutes we were journeying through wide, sparsely inhabited riverbed plains. Other passengers were enthusiastically yelling with the excitement of the day to come. At Nanzhuang, the last change before our destination, old people were chatting on benches, sheltering from the morning sun. We journeyed on, winding uphill past glistening green rice grasses and a family in matching sunhats.
The air was fresh and bugs were sounding at Gaga Cultural Village, home to people from one of the smallest tribes in Taiwan. As a big butterfly drifted past, a member of the Saisiyat, or “true people,” tribe welcomed us. He led us down a path to see the final part of a traditional dance performance.
Dressed in loosely fitting red clothes with zigzag-pattern trim and with bells round their ankles, the locals appeared to fit the commonly held image of an aboriginal people. Tourists watched from irregular tiered stone steps, clapping to the rhythms of poles being beaten on the ground.
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Dressed in loosely fitting red
clothes with zigzag-pattern
trim the locals appeared to
fit the commonly held image
of an aboriginal people |
Onlookers were soon being encouraged to take part in the dance. At this point I felt the need to step back. Visitors were enjoying themselves, but in what seemed to me to be imitation that was not genuine. They moved awkwardly with mere surface understanding, the deeper meaning of the movements inaccessible to them. The dancing seemed to highlight the distance between the tribal members and the visitors. I wondered if this was just weekend tourist entertainment, and thought about what implications this had for the tribe’s hundreds of years of tradition. We were to learn more after lunch.
Sunny and I borrowed a scooter and headed up through the hills to a nearby restaurant. We savored some bamboo-shoot soup, salty pork and herbal omelet, mountain range chicken, and fresh vegetables. On our way back, Sunny turned the engine off and we glided down in countryside bliss. Though content in our surroundings, again we realized we were only visitors.
 Back at the village, as we sat on tree-stump stools around an uneven stone table, one of the local Saisiyat women kindly taught us basket-weaving. We used dried vines, so strong that they are also used for the joins of bamboo huts. As we weaved, various locals of all ages came to sit and chat for a while. Mosquitoes were eating me alive. Some children noticed and led me across the undergrowth to a plant with small purple flowers. I rubbed the leaves on my arm, and was bite-free from then on.
Left alone by the bugs, the weaving process was conducive to reflective conversation. We learned of differences of opinion within the tribe. Many older members want to remain relatively closed to the outside world, while others want to be more open. Being more open can lead to outside funding, but can ultimately result in less autonomy for the Saisiyat people. Monetary support may be provided for new buildings, but not necessarily in traditional styles, or made with traditional materials. And there is the fear that those opening up will be easily led astray in the pursuit of money. Yet there is hope. A few meters from where we were weaving I noticed a small craft shop. And we learned of plans to set up a weaving school for local children, which will hopefully help the villagers earn money without sacrificing their traditional cultural values. The tribe’s predicament is clear. Members want to protect and create awareness of their culture, but in doing so they risk compromising the very values that compose it.
We were lucky enough to talk to the owner of our guesthouse in the evening, learning more about what lies beneath the facades of the dance performances. We ate local vegetables, salty fish, and pig’s foot, served on a banana leaf with the obligatory mashed-up sticky rice, which we all played a part in mashing. This sticky rice is a tradition on hunting trips and is used in ceremonies to symbolize cooperation.
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| GAGA CULTURAL VILLAGE（嘎嘎歐岸文化部落） |
| ADD: |
8, 11 Lin, Penglai Village (Baguali), Nanzhuang Township, Miaoli County (苗栗縣南庄鄉蓬萊村[八卦力]11鄰8號) |
| TEL: |
0919-844-861/870, (037) 825-865, (037) 822-870 |
| WEB: |
www.822870.com (Chinese only) | |
The tribe’s main ceremonial tradition is the Sacrifice to the Short Spirits. Apparently, in the past, the Saisiyat tribe defeated another tribe of people said to have been only 90cm tall. The ceremony is broken down into three parts. First, the spirits of the short people are welcomed. The Saisiyat people then come into contact with them and, third, appease them. This happens every ten years and lasts for four days and three nights, with the main activities between 6 pm and 6 am. A shorter version is held every two years. Only the elders of the most important families are permitted to sing the traditional songs, which take three to five years to learn.
 There was lots of information to take in and, of course, the Saisiyat people could not translate their culture in a day. We only got a glimpse, and much remained unspoken. Recognizing there is a lot more going on in complex, lived understandings than what can be discerned in short-term exposures, it would be a mistake to apply our own values to what we saw. I thought about this that night as I drifted off to sleep amidst the jungle’s nighttime sounds.
With the sun glowing through the orange curtains and the noise of the cockerel, it was not difficult to rise after a good night’s sleep, even at 7 am.I wandered around with my sachet-coffee breakfast and took in the still mountain scenes.
On our way back to Nanzhuang, we drove past elaborate graves in fields of green grass. Moving through swaying grasses looking over riverbed grays, we reached the town of Yuanli. Walking through rice fields as the sun beamed down, we became one with the wind-made waves that rippled with the breeze. We approached Hwataoyao (Huatao Pottery Kiln), an elegant place with wood-burning kilns, a ceramics studio, and botanical gardens. The abundance of traditional dishes available for lunch was extraordinary, and even included rice-water soup. It was honestly one of the best meals I’ve had in Taiwan. As we ate, we admired a huge drum hanging above us. A Buddhist master who once visited liked this place so much, and in particular a large piece of pottery, that he and the owner did an exchange.
 The owner, or host, of Hwataoyao didn’t originally set up the brick-and-clay kiln and gardens with tourism in mind. That much is clear from the sincere feeling of purity the complex exudes. In fact, his wife loves flowers and she couldn’t find suitable pots. That’s how the kiln came into existence. Built along a flight of stairs, it consists of four separate firing compartments. Traditional wood-burning techniques are used to produce anything from flowerpots to water containers and teapots. The oily firewood used comes from the locally available acacia tree. During firing, 4 times a year only, ashes fall randomly and fuse with the clay at 1,250 degrees Celsius, producing beautiful patterns.
Gardens were later created, their theme based around the humanistic spirit of the workshop. While endeavoring to preserve traditional regional flora such as the Chinese banyan, the owner and his wife also planted native Taiwanese plants, such as the climbing fig. Other plants, like the so-called “sensitive plant,” or mimosa, were introduced from countries further afield. It took around 20 years of cultivation for the gardens to reach their current splendor, and over 600 species of plants can now be found here. Yet despite international styles and influences, a natural, local heart prevails.
| HWATAOYAO, BOTANICAL GARDEN, CERAMIC STUDIO & WOOD KILNS (華陶窯) |
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ADD: |
31, 2 Lin, Nanshi Li, Yuanli Township, Miaoli County
(苗栗縣苑裡鎮南勢里2鄰31號) |
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TEL: |
(037) 743-611 |
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WEB: |
www.hwataoyao.com.tw |
The gardens near the kiln are perfectly manicured, yet have a wonderfully effortless feel to them. Artistry is infused with nature without contradiction. Craggy wooden boards creak and wind whistles through cracks. Chinese characters emphasize the eternally positive outlook of a comfortable heart. With all its intricately managed parts, the garden maintains the rich character of a granddad’s shed. Pots fired on site contain Zen-like arrangements of flowers, leaves and petals in still water. Bells gently chime. Cherry, our friendly and informative guide, told us how they have a different sound with the changing views of the seasons.
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The gardens are perfectly
manicured, yet have a
wonderfully effortless
feel to them |
 Moving further on, away from the kiln, we found the gardens more isolated and even richer in character. Amidst pond skaters and spiders suspended in the air, we seemed to have the place to ourselves. Frog croaks, bird songs, and the constant background sound of crickets and water all fitted together perfectly. We found green and purple berries with fresh perfume smells, and wild coffee plants. After stopping here and there for a few minutes of rejuvenating peace, we moved on. It was an image of paradise on Earth, but we couldn’t stay. We had to head to the ceramics studio, where the sun cast long evening shadows across our tables, adding form to what we were making. We weren’t exactly sure what it was we were making, but it didn’t matter. The process was a calming one.
Throughout the weekend, I encountered unfamiliar cultural traditions, lived out in all their fullness. The Saisiyat tribe’s consideration of their roots and present-day position, and Hwataoyao’s harmonious simplicity, helped to paint a fuller picture of what a more traditional and wholesome lifestyle has to offer. Perhaps, for an outsider, these places are the grounds in which to escape into fantasy. But for the people that live them, they are a reality. This, if nothing else, is pause for thought about the diversity of alternative ways of living. |
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