The Japanese imprint in East Taiwan

Few countries have changed as much in half a century as Taiwan did during the 50 years it was a Japanese colony. Also, it can be argued that no part of Taiwan was more influenced by Japan than the east, which until the 20th century saw very little development. 

Taiwan was not among the issues when war broke out between China and Japan in the summer of 1894, yet following the Qing Empire’s quick defeat at the hands of Japan’s modern armed forces, the court in Beijing handed control of Taiwan and the Penghu archipelago to Tokyo. Taiwan was already exporting significant quantities of sugar, tea and camphor, and Japan was eager to exploit these and other resources. Between 1909 and 1922, east Taiwan’s first railroad was laid, and trains were soon passing within earshot of one of the region’s most important industrial sites, what’s now called Hualien Sugar Factory. At the same time as the lowlands were being used to produce sugar and rice - and to settle Japanese immigrants - control over the highlands was sought so high-altitude forests could be plundered for valuable timber. Lintianshan (first photo) is a former logging settlement in the East Rift Valley where Japanese influence is still evident.

The Japanese were able to indulge their love of hot springs at several locations in the east, including Antong (安通, second picture shows the springs during the colonial era). The old Japanese-era structure there is currently under renovation, a process which involves replacing a great deal of woodwork.

Not all every remnant of the Japanese period relates to economic development, however. In Hualien County’s Jian Township (花蓮縣吉安鄉), the Buddhist Qingxiu Temple (慶修院, second and third photos) survived post-war anti-Japanese settlement to emerge in recent years as a favorite tourist attraction. However, Shintoism rather than Buddhism was the official religion of Japan until its defeat at the end of World War II, and the colonial authorities made some efforts to promote it in Taiwan, especially after 1937. Shinto jinja were constructed throughout Taiwan, including around 40 in Greater Taipei alone.

The jinja built in 1928 on a hillside overlooking the town now known as Yuli (玉里鎮) suffered grievously after World War II. The main structures (formally called haiden and honden) were demolished. Chunks of stone and concrete remain, more or less where they fell, and among them it's possible to make out a few engravings which suggest that what once stood here wasn't merely utilitarian. For decades, locals used the vacant plot to grow sweet potatoes. Because people live so close to the shrine, it's hard to appreciate any sense of religious awe when approaching. A stainless steel water-tank gets in the way when one tries to photograph the lower torii, and one of the legs has been incorporated into a house!

Since 2008, the remains of the jinja has been a county-level heritage site. Hualien County Government has done a good job tidying the site and providing bilingual signboards, like the one shown in the sixth image, featuring newlyweds and their immediate relatives at the shrine in 1942.

The shrine's stone lions disappeared sometime after 1945, and the Japanese words engraved on the stone lantern columns have been scratched off. But several of the latter are quite intact, like this one our guide introduced:

The surrounding shrubs and flowerbeds attract a lot of butterflies. The first set of stairs from the road has 37 steps. The second has 36, the third 16 and the fourth just 9. These numbers have a religious significance that was too esoteric for me to grasp. 

Reaching the top, you'll likely to spend more time admiring the views than pondering the ruins. If you've walked or biked from the railway station - a distance of 1.1km - consider bringing a picnic.

Even those who dislike breaking a sweat will agree the view from the site over Yuli's train station and downtown, as far as the Coastal Mountain Range makes any exertion worthwhile. While there, do look south for the double red arches of the new railway bridge, built to avoid an inconvenient tectonic fault beneath the Xiuguluan River. 

This visit and blog post were sponsored by the East Rift Valley National Scenic Area Administration.

Western gods in Taiwanese temples

This lengthy paper by Hubert Seiwart, then of the University of Hanover in Germany, published in Volume 21 of the Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society (Hong Kong Branch) back in 1981 goes some way to answering a question often asked by foreigners living in or visiting Taiwan: 'Why do traditional religions continue to be so prominent and popular in a society which is otherwise thoroughly modern?'

In the paper, which looks at the religion called I-Kuan Tao (一貫道, variously translated as 'The Unity Way' or 'The Way of the One that Penetrates Everything'), Seiwart argues that the popularity of such sects isn't in spite of modernization and Westernization but rather a reaction to it. He writes:

Adherence to traditional religious beliefs and practices can be a means of symbolizing cultural continuity and thereby identity... Modernization in China, as probably in most non-Western countries, started in the field of economy and technology. Only gradually (though inevitably) other parts of the socio-cultural system were affected... [As far as] religions which form institutions of their own, they are much less affected by social and economic changes than most other traditional institutions. A society in the process of modernization can more easily afford to cling to traditional religions than for example traditional ways of communication or education.

In terms of cultural continuity modernization in China represented a clear break, whereas in the West it was a continuation of the genuine tradition. To put it simply, one major aspect of modernization in China was and still is westernization, which means in a way that the modern culture in Taiwan is perceived as 'less Chinese' than the traditional culture. This may help to explain some of the differences in the cultural and especially the religious responses to modernization in Taiwan and in the West.

He points out that the only other social realm independent of economic changes is the arts, but while art is also a symbol of cultural continuity, 'the connoisseurs do not belong to the common people, [and] on a popular level religion holds a much more important place than the arts'.  

Siewart then addresses an issue that has long fascinated me: The appearance of Jesus and Mohammed in certain Taiwanese temples.

Western civilization is not objected to in its totality, only its materialism is rejected. The menace of the modern world results from the fact that the West has submitted to materialistic thinking and this materialism gains more and more ground in China as well. Since the Chinese religious traditions and Western religions are equally opposed to this materialism, they are all fighting for the same cause, they are allies not adversaries.

The recognition of Christianity and Islam as true religions equal to the Chinese religious traditions can be observed at different intellectual levels. A rather superficial level is represented by some of the fu-luan cults. While the deities which manifest themselves by the writing stick originally all belonged to the traditional Chinese pantheon, it does happen today that Western gods, above all Jesus and Mohammed [who of course is not regarded by Muslims as a god], give revelations by fu-luan. This integration of Western deities... 

When Hubert asked a spirit medium how Jesus and Mohammed could manifest themselves in a Chinese temple, he was told that 'in heaven, no boundaries between East and West exist and all gods live in the same heaven'.

The photo above shows a 19th century Taiwanese folk-religion icon of a Catholic friar, exhibited in Kaohsiung History Museum.

An indigenous chapel in Tainan

Cycling through Tainan recently, I stumbled across this forlorn-looking but intriguing building less than 100m east of the soon-to-be-buried railway line. It was locked up and there was no one around while I was there, so all I could go on are the nine Chinese characters on the stained metalwork beneath the cross. From left to right they’re pronounced: ‘Wutai Jiaohui Nankai Libai Tang.’

There are plenty of Christian places of worship in Taiwan, and it’s not unusual to see one as small as this. It was the first two characters that really caught my eye: Wutai (霧台) is an indigenous township in the mountains of Pingtung County, about 90km southeast of here as the crow flies. In my opinion, it’s one of the most beautiful places in all of Taiwan. But for all the region’s scenic splendour, jobs are few and higher education means leaving home. Most of Wutai’s inhabitants belong to the Rukai (魯凱) tribe, and like most of Taiwan’s aborigines the majority of them are Christian. There’s long been a Rukai community in Tainan and this ‘prayer hall’ seems to be a branch of an established Rukai church elsewhere in the city. It’s perhaps no coincidence it’s also near another of the area's Christian landmarks, Tainan Theological College and Seminary.

Walking tours in Tainan

There’s nothing like being shown around by someone who both speaks your language well, and knows the area like the back of his or her hand. But even in Taiwan, where locals often go out of their way to greet and help visitors from afar, you’re unlikely to meet such a person by chance. Fortunately for tourists, walking tours are catching on. One organization which has taken it upon itself to organize regular pedestrian excursions is My Tainan Tour, backed by Tainan City Government. 

For more than two centuries until the 1880s, Tainan served as Taiwan’s administrative capital. It retains a stupendous density of historical and cultural attractions: When Tainan natives say, ‘there's a major temple every five steps, a minor shrine every three,’ they’re hardly exaggerating. 

My Tainan Tour currently offers two walks. The ‘Classic Tour’ takes explorers to the city’s sublime Confucius Temple, what’s now the National Museum of Taiwan Literature, and then the Altar of Heaven (aka Tiantan), a lively place of worship. The fourth and final stops represent, respectively, the Qing era and the Japanese period. The former is the early 19th-century Wu Garden. The latter is Hayashi Department Store. An always-bustling emporium which exudes traditional Japanese refinement, it has three features probably no other department store in the world can boast - an elevator with a mosaic floor, a restored rooftop Shinto shrine [shown above] and scars from World War II air raids.

The 'Local Life Tour' is less concerned with relics and more with how Tainan folk go about their lives. It's a stroll through a cluster of narrow thoroughfares around 700m northwest of Hayashi Department Store. The most famous of these is Shennong Street, much-loved and -photographed on account of its antique appearance. Largely intact traditional two-story houses with tiled roofs and wooden upper floors line both sides of the street.

Both tours last around two hours, depending on how fast you walk, how many questions you ask, and how many detours you make. 

Praying for Fertility: The Baogong Stone

Dajia (大甲), now part of Greater Taichung, is synonymous with the cult of Mazu, the sea goddess revered by the Fujianese migrants who arrived in this region in the 17th and 18th centuries. Their principal house of worship is Jenn Lann Temple, founded in 1732. 

Of course, humans were living in Dajia long before those settlers arrived. It's said the toponym Dajia derives from the name of the lowland aboriginal tribe that once dominated the area, the Taokas (道卡斯). Like Taiwan’s other indigenous groups, the Taokas were of Austronesian origin and spoke a language very different to Mandarin or Taiwanese, but somewhat similar to the Maori tongues of New Zealand. As a distinct tribe, they disappeared long ago, but some of their culture lives on in certain local traditions. 

One location where the influence of aboriginal beliefs on local religious practices is still apparent is on the outskirts of Dajia, in Waipu District’s Xincuo (外埔區新厝). There, childless couples hoping for a baby pray to a 30cm-high rock known as the Baogong Stone (包公石). This object of veneration has a crudely phallic appearance, but - if you look closely- you’ll notice what could be eyes and other facial features. 

Until 2010, the stone was kept in a land-god shrine. Because its apparent ability to cure infertility was drawing a lot of media coverage, there were fears it could be stolen. (From time to time, efficacious icons are snatched from Taiwanese temples.) It was thus moved to its current location, the front room of a private home in the neighbourhood. The family who look after the stone keep a list of couples who report pregnancies after coming here, and the stone is credited with three or four successes per month. 

Taiwan's birthrate is no longer the lowest in the world, but it remains well below replacement level. 

A couple's chances of conceiving are greater, it's claimed, if both visit and pray to the Baogong Stone. If only one can attend, he or she should bring some of his/her spouse's clothing, and rub the garments on the stone's tip. When telling a friend about this place, he asked: "Would rubbing underwear against the stone work better than, say, a sweater?"

It's a good question, and I wish I knew the answer.   

Taiwan for Muslim travellers

On a trip to Kaohsiung a few days before the Meinong Earthquake shook southern Taiwan, I noticed a Muslim Prayer Room near the back entrance to Kaohsiung TRA Station. This facility is part of the government's efforts to attract tourists from Muslim countries. Another important aspect of the campaign is encouraging restaurants at major tourist attractions to obtain halal certifications. Unlike the prayer room recently established at Taipei Main Railway Station, the prayer room in Kaohsiung TRA Station is very near washrooms where Muslims can carry out their traditional pre-prayer ablutions.

Very few Taiwanese follow Islam (no more than 0.3% of the population) but the progress Taiwan has made in transforming itself into a Muslim-friendly destination has got some recognition in target markets, such as Malaysia. Still, having been to Sun Moon Lake, Alishan and Taroko Gorge in recent weeks, it seems many of the Muslim visitors to these places aren't tourists from afar, but citizens of Indonesia and other countries already working or studying in Taiwan.

Information for Muslim travelers heading to Taiwan can be found here.

Two day-trips in New Taipei City

New Taipei City is Taiwan's most populous local-government division (officially, 3.97 million people live), but most of the municipality doesn't get as much attention from tourists as it perhaps deserves. International visitors typically spend a day or two in Taipei, then head east to Taroko Gorge, or south to Sun Moon Lake. 

Fans of traditional architecture, and those who like to see how the gentry of yesteryear lived, have two options. The sometimes-crowded but easy-to-reach Lin Family Gardens in Banqiao, or the less well known Lee Family Mansion in Luzhou. (This blogger introduces both in the same post.)

Among north Taiwan's best beaches are Baishawan and Fulong. The former is not far from Danshui (some government departments prefer the heritage spelling, 'Tamsui'), and can be enjoyed as part of a daylong coastal tour I often recommend to people who want to get out of the big cities, but don't want to drive themselves or sign up for a guided excursion. Buses between Danshui and Jinshan are frequent. At Jinshan, it's easy to get aboard another bus which will take you on to Keelung, or over the mountains and back into central Taipei. Setting out from Danshui, there are several places worth stopping at, such as Laomei Algal Reef (near Fuji Fishing Harbor, where I took the photo above) and the Eighteen Lords Temple at Shimen. At each attraction, it's simply a matter of walking back to the main road (Highway 2) when you've seen enough, and making yourself comfortable (most stops have shelters and benches) until the next bus comes along. 

As well as the Danshui-Jinshan-Keeling corridor, another place in New Taipei deserves special mention: Sanxia. Separated from the ceramics town of Yingge by the broad Dahan River, Sanxia has around 100,000 inhabitants. It can be reached by bus from the capital, from Yingge and also from Taoyuan. Natural resources including camphor, coal, tea and timber powered Sanxia's growth, and indigo dyeing was a major industry in the 19th century. However, when trains and trucks replaced boats as the main means of moving goods around north Taiwan, Sanxia was overtaken by upstart towns like Taoyuan. 

Sanxia's most famous place of worship is regarded as a pinnacle of religious art in Taiwan. Zushi Temple has a fabulous number of wood and stone carvings: In addition to the usual dragons and sages, there are crabs and other crustaceans, elephants, fish, owls, pangolins (scaly anteaters about the size of a fox), and a whole orchestra of musicians. The gold leaf-bedecked ceiling of the central chamber, where incense is offered to Zushi, is breathtakingly ornate. Zushi, which means 'divine progenitor', is the godly name of a 13th-century government official honoured for his bravery at a time when the Mongols were invading China. The temple's long history has been punctuated by violence and dissent. Founded in 1769 and rebuilt in 1833, it was flattened during fighting between Japanese forces and Taiwanese militia in the War of 1895. Rebuilt again in 1899, a major renovation effort was begun in 1947 under the supervision of local politician and acclaimed painter Li Mei-shu. Since Li's death in 1983, progress on the temple has been stymied by rows among members of the management committee. Some prefer to use cheaper semi-finished decorations imported from the Chinese mainland, while others back Li's policy of employing local master carvers and artists. 

Within walking distance of the temple there's a thoroughfare which not long ago reverted to its pre-1945 name, Sanjiaoyong Street (pictured here). Sanxia's original business hub is now a touristy “old street” but the renovated redbrick Baroque-style shop-houses are well worth seeing. Some of these dwellings are more than a century old, although the street's distinctive look did not appear until around 1915, when the colonial authorities ordered gutters to be added for reasons of public health. When the street was renovated in 2004—2006, the declared doctrine was 'original architecture, original materials'. This meant firing hundreds of mud bricks for internal partitions and straightening sagging roofs. Residents were permitted to build additional floors so long as facades were preserved and the classical appearance of the street maintained. Embellishments of vases (a symbol of peace, as in both Mandarin and Taiwanese the word for vase, ping, a homophone for peace) lotuses, dragons and lions were redone. The street and the alleyways that lead off it have been paved with chiselled granite slabs, while unavoidable modern features such as utility-hole covers and house numbers have been made to look as traditional as possible. 

Chiang Kai-shek's church at Sun Moon Lake

It's difficult to get a good photo of the Chapel of Christ at Sun Moon Lake because it's surrounded by trees atop a hillock. This detail - which surely made assassination from a distance less likely - was perhaps a plus-factor for the man who ordered the church's construction: Chiang Kai-shek, Taiwan's dictatorial ruler until his death in 1975. This Romanesque-style place of worship was finished in 1971, and is now used for mass weddings organized by Sun Moon Lake National Scenic Area Administration. 

When Chiang was in the area, he stayed in a two-storey guesthouse which was wrecked by 1999's 921 Earthquake, then cleared away to make space for the ostentatious Wen Wan Resort (the curving 'mast' on the hotel's exterior is coated with 15kg of gold leaf). The barracks where his security detail stayed has also disappeared; that plot is now occupied by the equally up-market Lalu. In 1971, Taiwan was still far from being the prosperous society it is today. Yet its ruler saw nothing wrong with enjoying approximately 20 residences and villas in different parts of the country, and ordering or permitting official funds to be used to build a private church he'd enter just a few times each year. 

The art of photographing gods - a Taiwan Temples podcast

Two friends and occasional collaborators, Robert Kelly and Rich J. Matheson, are working on a project called Taiwan Temples. Believing Taiwan's Buddhist/Taoist/folk shrines are worthy of UNESCO World Heritage status and worldwide acclaim - but haven't received any such recognition because of the island's political isolation - the two are assembling pictures, videos, audio- and mini-essays about what they describe as an "outstanding branch of southern Chinese architecture, and the dynamic folk culture that surrounds it."

They recently released their first podcast. It's about Wu Tai-pu, a wedding photographer who in his spare time takes portraits of god statues in temples across Taiwan. For this podcast he was interviewed in Mandarin by Rich J. Matheson, and I was pleased to help out by doing the English-language voice-over. To listen to this in-depth discussion, which ranges from getting permission to take photos to spirit writing and supernatural possession, go here.

The image above shows the roof of Fongtian Temple in Chiayi County's Xingang Township. These days, it's best known as the southernmost point on the annual Mazu pilgrimage which sets out from Dajia's Jenn Lann Temple each spring. 

Taiwan through the lens of Josh Ellis, Part 2

This is Part 2 of an interview with Josh Ellis, a Canadian photographer living in north Taiwan. (Part 1 is here.)

Do you do commercial photography?

Yes. I have to travel around the country getting shots for clients, which requires a bit of flexibility. Most of the people I do work for are overseas and probably don't understand the amount of travel involved in doing what I do for them. When I originally arrived in Taiwan, I started working for an English school and I'm still there part-time. They’re quite flexible with me and treat me quite well; they’re willing to accept that my workload will be considerably less than most of their other employees. I teach a few days per week for them and also help with training new employees. Teaching was always a means to an end, particularly when I needed a work permit. I'm now a permanent resident, so I can do pretty much whatever I want, work-wise. My friends often ask why I still bother to teach, but I like the flexibility my company gives me. Also, the income it brings stabilizes my fluctuating photography income.

Have you had any weird or unpleasant experiences when taking photos?

Generally speaking, Taiwan is a very photo-friendly country. Over the past five or so years DSLR cameras have become pretty common. A lot of people are trying their hand at photography and I find that the accessibility of so-called professional-level cameras tends to skew the line between amateur and professional; this is part of the reason why I don't like to use the terms very often. The amount of images floating around the internet really creates a lot of competition for working photographers, so you have to do your best to stand out from the crowd and only post your best work. That being said, Taiwanese people are generally pretty great when it comes to photography. When you do street photography it is all about the momentary relationship you create with a person. Sometimes you’ll find someone who doesn't want their photo taken but most of the time it is fine and people don't mind. 

In my decade of shooting here I’ve only been told not to take a photo of something twice. I remember each experience vividly because of the rarity of being told not to take a shot and the strangeness of the situations. The first time was a year or so ago on Shenkeng Old Street. I came across a store that had a bunch of cool-looking traditional hats and oddities on the storefront. What struck me about the place was how adamant the boss was about not wanting pictures to be taken. He had at least 10 different signs saying “No photos,” which I thought was quite extreme. I decided to take a photo out of spite since the boss was standing in front of me. The resulting photo [below] features a guy with an angry face, and it made an excellent street shot with what was happening in the background. 

More recently while I was shooting Zhinan Temple, near Maokong in Taipei. A temple volunteer took exception to me shooting a religious ceremony taking place and indicated quite rudely that I shouldn't be taking photos. She then proceeded to follow me around until I felt so uncomfortable I left. As a photographer you have to be considerate of people and know when something is okay and when it isn't. I do my best to be respectful and considerate of people in all aspects of life, so photography is just an extension of that. If anyone ever objects to what I do, then I will delete the shot and apologize. I think that is probably a general rule among most people who are fans of street photography – but for the most part Taiwanese people are very welcoming and don't mind having their pictures taken.

You live in Zhongli, which has something of bad reputation.

Before coming to Taiwan I didn't do much research. I had heard how beautiful Taiwan was when I was in China. The people there had talked about the country as a sort of Shangri-La they all wanted to visit but couldn't because of the political situation at the time. I thought that nowhere could be as bad as Beijing when it comes to pollution and weather, so when I decided to accept a position as a teacher I didn't really bother to check where it was. I noted that I'd be living close to the airport and a short bus or train ride to Taipei, but would also be close to the mountains and Hsinchu. 

After living in Zhongli [pictured below] for ten years, I can't say I have any complaints or that in my ignorance I made a terrible mistake. I have a love affair with the city, even though I know it has a bad reputation among expats. I think most of those opinions are unfounded. The way I see it is that I live in a city full of Hakka people, culture and food. I have a great respect for that culture and I think you'll see through my work that I've done a lot to promote Hakka culture and different tourist spots related to their history on the island. Zhongli isn't perfect – like any industrial city it does have its gloom, especially during winter. 

Living here for ten years means I've seen the city change and develop into much nicer, cleaner and greener place. I like the direction the city is taking. When the MRT line is completed, it’ll be another satellite city of Taipei and will attract people sick of the cost of living in the capital. People often ask why I don't move to Taipei, but I don't see why I'd leave where I am. Most of my work is done outside of Taipei and moving there would just require more travelling. Also, most landlords in the capital aren’t big fans of tenants who have pets. I have a Shetland Sheepdog that was saved from a shelter near here. My ancestry is 100% Scottish and one of the ways we celebrate our heritage is to always have a sheltie. My parents have one, my sister has one and when I found the opportunity to get one, I got one too.

Taiwan through the lens of Josh Ellis, Part 1

Josh Ellis, who grew up next to the ocean on Canada’s east coast, has been photographing Taiwan since 2005. He describes his website as a “showcase for what I do, but also a way of promoting Taiwan and helping educate people around the world about how amazing this country is.” This is Part I of an interview conducted by email in October and November 2015. 

Is it true you ended up studying Chinese by accident?

Yeah, when I got to university, I found I had to take a second-language credit in order to graduate. I decided to try my hand at Japanese. The class was full of young guys much more invested in learning the language than I was, so on the first day of class, when the dean asked some of us if we would be willing to consider taking another language to free up space, I decided to take Mandarin instead. That decision pretty much shaped what’s happened since. I graduated with dual degrees in International Development and Asian Studies; before graduation I did an internship which brought me to China to further develop my language skills in an immersion program at Peking University, and to work on a Canadian government sponsored development project.

Why did you move to Taiwan? 

After graduation, I spent a few months checking out the job market in Canada, but felt the itch to come back to Asia to improve my language skills and continue travelling. I saw an ad about teaching English in Taiwan, so decided to give it a try. I arrived in Taiwan in the summer of 2005, and I noticed almost right away that Taiwan was a lot different to China. I noticed how clean it was and how the people seemed to be quite similar to Canadians in terms of how they treated others. Some of these similarities are among the reasons I’ve stayed for over a decade. I love that I can be in a modern city with a population bigger than most Canadian cities, but still be so close to nature. Taiwan has spoiled me over these years and I have a hard time thinking what life would be like back home without all the conveniences of this beautiful country.

Were you already a keen photographer when you arrived?

I was always into photography when I was young but wasn’t really able to do anything serious about it. After arriving, like a lot of travellers I took pictures documenting everything I was doing, and all the things that were new to me, to show friends and family back home. After about a month of living here I decided to upgrade and buy my first DSLR. Since then, everything I’ve done has been somewhat photography-related. Photography has been a very important facet of my experiences here.

I hope that when people see photos I’ve shot and how I frame them, they’re able to learn something not only from the photo, but from the information I provide with them. It’s great to hear from Taiwanese friends that I’ve shot something they didn’t even know existed, or that they’d never really imagined it would look as cool as it does in one of my photos. I think when you’re a foreign photographer in any country you tend to look at things differently to the locals, and see what they might miss or think isn’t special.

Many photographers adore Taiwan’s temple culture. Are you one of them?

Absolutely. I’ve spent a lot of time exploring temples all over the nation and trying to learn as much about them as I can. I love taking shots which not only show off the beautiful architecture, but also the amazing details you find inside. 

Taiwan also offers a lot of opportunity for taking beautiful landscape shots. I’m often lugging heavy camera gear up some of Taiwan’s highest mountains and taking shots of the coastline, rivers and waterfalls. Taiwan may be a small country, but there are countless locations available to photographers to show off the beauty of the country. 

Apart from temples and natural landscape, what else appeals to you?

I’m also a big fan of street photography, which involves walking around and getting candid shots of people going about their everyday lives. I think not living Taipei means I have better opportunities to explore and take photos that tell the story of Taiwan’s people and their lives.  

I do a lot of research about the places I visit, and I’m still trying to gauge what my audience is most interested in. My posts about the Qingshui Cliffs [pictured above] and Mukumugi Gorge in Hualien generated quite a lot of buzz, but then so did my post about the controversial Pigs of God ritual; this might the only post where I criticize Taiwan. I posted a quick article about a local restaurant that I thought would be nostalgic for some of my ex-coworkers who’ve since left Taiwan; it ended up going viral with hundreds of thousands of hits since I posted it, something I never would have imagined. Earlier this year I did a project where I visited several of Taiwan’s biggest night markets to shoot street-photography-style portraits of the people working there and explain a bit about what they do. This project has been quite popular. I’ve finished the shooting and hope to have the last four posts, about Miaokou Night Market in Keelung, posted before the end of the year.

I think I’m a very organized person, so I’ve a long list of places I need to get to over a certain period of time. I recently hiked up to a peak that isn’t very well known, Yuanzui Mountain in Daxueshan National Forest Recreation Area. From the peak there’s an amazing 360-degree view of Taiwan’s mountains. The location is perfect for the kind of work I do, but unfortunately as I was nearing the peak the weather took a turn for the worse. Everything disappeared in a cloud of mist, which means I need to make another trip in the near future. Apart from mountains, I’ll be shooting some upcoming temple festivals, Taiwanese opera performances, and I’m hoping to get to Kinmen and Matsu in the near future.

Part 2 of the interview can be read here.

A typhoon-damaged shrine

Now the 2015 typhoon season is drawing to an end, I thought I'd post this image I took in a mountainous part of Chiayi County back in 2010, of a land-god shrine that was almost totally destroyed by a landslide during Typhoon Morakot, but dug out by nearby villagers, cleaned up and put back into use.  

Zhiben Catholic Church

The exterior of the Immaculate Conception Church in Zhiben, Taitung County resembles neither a European church - there's no steeple - nor any of the Catholic houses of worship around the island which incorporate Chinese 'Northern Palace' architecture. Like many buildings that date from the early 1950s, it's a simple concrete box that leaks when there's heavy rain. Yet the grounds are spacious and the interior reflects the heritage of the indigenous Puyuma people who worship here.

  

According to the priest, around 70 people attend Sunday service, and both Mandarin and the Puyuma language are used in the church; click on the photo below to enlarge it, and you'll notice the hymn book has romanized Puyuma as well as Chinese script. Visitors should ask for permission from the priest or caretaker before entering the church, the address of which is 15, Lane 331, Zhiben Road Section 3 (知本路3段331巷15號). There's a map and Chinese-language information here. The wall which surrounds the churchyard has paintings which show scenes from the tribe's oral history.

A Pritzker Prize winner's church in rural Taiwan

Houbi (後壁) in Tainan is best known these days for being the center of Taiwan’s thriving orchid export industry and the site of an annual orchid-related trade show. But if you're more interested in heritage than horticulture, head to the village of Jingliao (菁寮), which has a photogenic old street and a strikingly modernist church. The latter, Saint Cross Church, is a Roman Catholic place of worship designed in the mid-1950s by Munich-trained architect Gottfried Boehm (b1920). 

At that time Boehm was not famous, but his career quickly took off. In 1986 he won the Pritzker Prize, one of the world’s premier architecture awards. His landmark is impossible to miss. The spire (shown above) is a cypress-framed alloy-covered pyramid that’s higher than - and in terms of color quite different to - anything else in the village, which itself is surrounded by flat agricultural land. To learn more about the church and its founding, see this excellent article.

Shinto ruins in Taiwan

During the latter part of the Japanese colonial period, the authorities promoted Shintoism and ordered the construction of Shinto shrines in several locations. Most of these places of worship were obliterated soon after Taiwan became part of Chiang Kai-shek's Republic of China in 1945, and none of those which survived is in good condition, with the qualified exception of what's now Taoyuan Martyrs Shrine.

The most picturesque Shinto ruins are those above Jinguashi, near Keelung on Taiwan's northeast coast. The steps and base of another shrine (pictured above) can be found a few hundred metres from Fenqihu Train Station, in the highlands of Chiayi County, beside a short but delightful forest hiking trail. A different kind of quasi-religious relic from the Japanese era, now known as the Feng An Sanctum, stands in Tainan's Xinhua District.

Koji art in a Tainan temple

Seen from the street, Jintang Temple (金唐殿) in Tainan City's Jiali District (台南市佳里區) isn't notably impressive, even though a sign proclaims it to be a national third-grade relic. What makes it special are the koji works inside and out. Several must be very valuable, as they're protected by thick sheets of glass rigged with alarms - something I don't think I've seen in other houses of worship.
The alarm system, which would be triggered if the glass was broken or removed, can be seen in the photo on the left; the ghostly figure on the right of the image is a reflection of myself holding my camera. In addition to the sages, generals and characters from Chinese mythology typically featured in shrine decorations, there's a panel showing a gentleman in Western attire. According to an information panel inside the temple, this is Dr. Sun Yat-sen, accompanied by figures in more traditional clothing (shown below).

It doesn't look anything like him, however – you'll agree if you look at the black-and-white portrait from Wikimedia Commons here. The artist even forgot the mustache! In the 3D depiction in Jiali, Sun is holding a roll of paper, not a cigar as you might think.

Things to do in Taiwan when it's raining

The summer is Taiwan's wet season. In Taipei, almost two thirds of each year's rain falls between May and September. In the south, the difference between the wet and dry seasons is even more pronounced. Tourists who visit during the hotter months may not be able to explore the mountains, as road closures due to landslides are common (see the photo accompanying this post for a typical Taiwan rockslide), and heat may drive them indoors. How best, then, can summertime visitors use their time?

Good answers include temples and museums. Taiwan has an incredible number of both, thanks to a lively religious culture and governments that have shown great willingness to invest in museums which entertain and educate. While gloomy conditions may frustrate photographers' efforts to capture the beauty of shrine roofs, there's so much art and detail inside major shrines - not to mention all sorts of human activity - that they're a top choice whatever the weather. If you stumble across a place of worship that's in the midst of renovation, do take a closer look, as the way in which wooden panels and beams are replaced and paintings retouched is fascinating. The photo here shows a renovation artist working in Tainan's Temple of the Navigation Superintendent.

Taiwan's best-known museums, including all five mentioned in this article, are government run. However, wealthy individuals and non-profit foundations are behind some worthwhile public collections, such as one in Dajia that'll appeal to those curious about the Mazu cult.

The Central Weather Bureau's bilingual website has clear and useful forecasts which are very useful when planning travel around Taiwan. The site also has reports of seismic activity and rainfall statistics - several places in Kaohsiung received more than 150mm of rain yesterday!

Read extracts from the second edition on Bradt's website

The publisher of my guidebook has posted sizable chunks of the second edition on their website alongside some gorgeous images of Taiwan. In addition to information about how to get to Taiwan and how to travel from place to place once you've arrived, there's an abridged version of the history section, plus segments on highlight destinations such as Little Liuqiu and Shei-Pa National Park.

I took the photo above in Jinmen Hall (金門館) - a seldom visited late 18th-century place of worship in the historic town Lugang - about five years ago, and thought it appropriate as the World Cup is now being played in Brazil...

Direct buses from Tainan to Foguangshan

Since the beginning of this month there's a direct bus between Tainan and Foguangshan, which is good news for tourists into cultural attractions who'd rather skip downtown Kaohsiung. The bus is #8050, and - assuming traffic isn't unusually heavy - takes 1 hour 40 minutes one way (adult fare NTD207). It replaces the old #9122 service.

There are only six services per day. These leave Tainan TRA Station at 06.25, 09.10, 10.10, 14.10, 17.10 and 18.50. The route is quite scenic as it follows Road 182 through Neimen (venue of the Songjiang Battle Array), then Highway 3 into Qishan (where you can board a bus to Meinong). There's no need to change buses in Qishan; stay onboard for the few minutes it spends at Qishan's bus station. The final part of the journey, from Qishan to the monastery, takes less than 15 minutes. In the opposite direction, the first bus setting out from Foguangshan is at 06.15, the last at 16.45.

What do Taiwanese people ask for when they pray?

Taiwan's temples are often crowded with worshippers. What are they praying for? 

According to Religion,Occultism, and Social Change in Taiwan, a paper published by Academia Sinica - the ROC's most prestigious research institution - a few years back, the most popular requests made by those visiting folk shrines were physical health (80.8%), prosperity (75%), career or educational success (59.6%), reassurance (55.8%), safety during military service (48.1%), wisdom (48.1%) and good karma (42.3%). Of course, these categories are all quite broad, and because the data has been translated from Chinese to English (and likely Taiwanese to Chinese to English), it's hard to draw any firm conclusions. However, the survey did make another interesting finding: 53.8% said “habit” was a major reason they prayed. 

I took this photo at a fairly ordinary, medium-sized temple in Taoyuan City.