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Post-Morakot visit and meeting the people of Taoyuan Township, So.Taiwan, with Father Karl Stahli PDF Print
Tuesday, 20 July 2010
Post-Morakot landscape in Taoyuan township.jpg Pedro Walpole, SJ, Taiwan, June 2010

The townland of Taoyuan (plum field) is known as a valley of hot springs; now, there is no spring, no hot water, no visitors, and a livelihood lost for unknown years.

It is also the valley of the Southern Cross Island Highway that no longer crosses the mountains, another collapsed project never to be revived. The road stops at Taoyuan village at 604 meters above sea level (masl), where before it used to go to 2,900 masl for the tourist viewpoint and on to the east. As fields and farms were lost, so too was the security of a way of life in this part of the valley.

Taoyuan is a rural township of Kaohsiung County in southern Taiwan and where the most remote and mountainous regions are located. Taoyuan Township is abundant in renewable energy sources that attract many visitors to the area and probably has more waterfalls and hot springs than any other mountain township in Kaohsiung County. Situated at the southern foot of Mt. Jade (Yushan) in the Central Mountains, Taoyuan has numerous valleys and precipices, hot springs, and suspension bridges. The area was once home to an aboriginal tribe called Yaer, also called "Jialameng." In the Japanese era and after the recovery, the town was named "Yaer," before being renamed to Taoyuan.

The townland of Taoyuan (plum field) is known as a valley of hot springs; now, there is no spring, no hot water, no visitors, and a livelihood lost for unknown years.

August 2009, typhoon Morakot

Many were overwhelmed by the wild confusion on that Saturday and Sunday, 8th to 9th of August in 2009. There were terrible floods and rumbles in the river. People were so shocked as some saw their neighbours' houses washed away. The torrents drowned out all sensibility, and they were so affected and afraid that just wanted to leave.

It all happened at night like the earthquake before. Everybody was evacuated by helicopter over the next two days and they stayed in different places, towns and countryside that were mostly temple- or church-related. Only on leaving did they hear of the road at Hsin Kai where about 30 people were buried near the hot springs. Twenty-eight small hotels in Bao Lai village disappeared. Then follow the news of the great loss of Xiaolin village in the next valley where the entire area with 500 people were buried. On hearing of these losses as they evacuated in their confusion, they were only shocked it was not them.

In every village there were some people who did not want to leave and it took the police to take them out, even if they had water and food though no electricity. After initially staying in different places they were transferred to the military camp in Fengshan, a second phase post evacuation. Over a thousand people slowly shrunk to 500 as they returned home or to relatives. Some stayed until the camp closed after five months.

New subdivision.jpgRe-building after Morakot

Most people returned to Taoyuan by January. They preferred to leave the camp as it was an "extraordinary" experience to live in this way. Some people are now moving to permanent houses in Tse Ci. There is no forestry land in the area and people were not prevented from returning to their villages; it's just if they do have houses or fields they may not have roads or livelihood any more.

The townland is mainly Bunun (which means people in their own language) with a population of 30,000 and one of 14 recognized tribes in Taiwan. The Bunun were among the first aboriginal tribes to come and settle in Taiwan. Unlike the Tsou in Alishan to the north, they are more marginal and feel the most neglected. As Bunun, they lived at high elevations and used to move every six to seven years given their cultivation. They are now farmers on lower slopes and they say they are "not a culture focused on serving the noble."

Fr 
Karl Stahli expressing the community's concerns.jpgThe Bunun's "pasibutbut" or the Millet Harvest Prayer, a form of polyphonic spiritual singing, has no equal. It is traditionally sung only at their New Year and harvest but is now widely chanted on many occasions. Some say it is better it lives than dies in obscurity. It is rumored "that never is one not deeply moved when hearing the world-famous Bunun eight-part harmony. The pasibutbut is a ritual song sung to God for the millet harvest. Started by a senior, the others join in singing one after one, and as the tune gets higher, eight different chromatic scales are created, explaining its name."

Children continued to stay in school as parents went home to find what was left. There was great shock given the loss of fields and animals, and to find that if it was not lost to the raging weather then it had been stolen. Agricultural equipment in the farm, televisions in the houses, everything was picked off. Many lost their vegetable fields including beans, also taro and plum, and the roads to their farms were gone. A farmer who returned to the land tells a story of the pigs that smelt his presence and returned. Other farmers upon going into the hills were recognized by the animals they had left during the storm and which then flowed them home. Dogs, pigs, and chickens also returned once the houses opened up anew.

People have put a life together again, pulling the bare means to survive. They can still go hunting in the forests above that are no longer natural since the Japanese logged out the areas at the end of the war. Deer, boar, and monkey still can be found in the forests. Fortunately, government locally employed one person per family for six months. They help oversee the roads day and night, the traffic, the construction, and the changes. But the problems are far from over.

Present problems

Some say, "Leave now, no roads and no fields, we have to leave now." But they say, "we will not leave, we cannot live in the valley."

Mulas Bukun prepared last week all her plums at her orchard high on the mountain above. Everything was ready, her 80 sacks of 70 kilos of plums were prepared for shipment but a light rain liquefied the road. Now the plums are rotting on the mountain, as there is no way to carry them out.

With the return of the light rains, the smallest of problems becomes a crisis. There is a growing fear, an anxiety, never experienced before: the typhoons are coming soon. People have never feared the typhoon season but now it is with great foreboding they await the rains. Rubble washes down across the road at the slightest rain. Somebody was lost yesterday when the makeshift bridge was washed out.

How is it to live with this for a people previously so easy and sincere in facing problems of the future? The shock of the past disturbs their confidence for the pending future. What can their cultural strength give them at this point? They share together what they have and do not feel ashamed if they are in need. They come to eat together when times are threatening and difficult, when the sound of the rain makes many anxious.

Some say, "Leave now, no roads and no fields, we have to leave now." But they say, "we will not leave, we cannot Fr Karl Stahli at the 
evacuation camp, 24Aug2009.jpglive in the valley." Five villages cut off from Taoyuan had a march last week saying that "no one was caring for us; there are no roads and no food."

But the requests of government are not always specific if government is to respond. Some say they do not have strong local leaders but government is now caring. Some doubt the encouragement they receive to move into new settlements. "Is it so that the land again becomes land of the government?" The community is seeking a secure contract with government so that their area remains always theirs. The Bunun feel they are secure in their lands with government but do not have documentation for this, so sometimes their situation feels volatile adding to their sense of insecurity.

Two weeks ago they heard that the military or police were to come with so many lorries. The message was, if another typhoon comes, each family must prepare when faced with evacuation. "Take shoes, clothes for daily living, valuables, and the police and security will have to stay behind. All must go out of the area once the rainfall reaches 250mm or is it 2,500 mm?" Who measures or where it is measured, no one knows. Some said the message was a good feeling, a feeling of being secure, but all are unsure the months ahead given the sound of the rains.

Taoyuan community with Fr Karl Stahli.jpgSeventeen villages are being relocated and over the next six months there is much work on the expanding compound in Tse Ci. Schools are provided for all ages. The regulations are not what the culture is used to but they are working with it. Outside of the uniform given to officials, no drinking, smoking or betel nut is permitted nor eating of meat outside the house, no chickens or pigs.

Some people's houses are still standing but they do not feel safe in them as the ground has slipped. They are now living in these new houses beautifully landscaped and with traffic lights at the intersections like a new form of subdivision.

But are they permanent here? For the next six months they still have work, and uncertainties are too great. So for the moment, yes, they are settled here, anything beyond this is too much to think about.

Note: Father Karl Stahli from the Bethlehem Foreign Mission supported the evacuation victims and lived with them in the army dormitory for three months. He has lived in Taiwan for nearly 40 years serving the aboriginal tribes and is familiar with their language.
Last Updated ( Monday, 19 December 2011 )