Overly deep post, visiting the bunun nanan tribe branch

To think that language is enough of a barrier that when engaged in meaningful research, one may feel that we are cutting off the very people, the indigeneous community, helping us learn about their ways. To me, this is perhaps a message that faithful translation is just that much more of an important tool for the establishment of meaningful connections. A complicated question. We are here to gain inspiration for our long term knowledge journey that may not have anything to do with this island the moment we leave it, yet my classmate are so genuine as to gruel over the desire to understand over night time hang-out sessions.

At times it seems no matter the amount of education, we can never shake the shell of our circumstances, our experience, the inabling and abling aspects, to embody the subjects that we engage with. Perhaps in moments where we smashed the millet with rough wooden hammers, when we chopped the wood with light axes, peeled the vegetables they eat, pealed the peanuts that they harvested… Perhaps the mindlessness of doing what they do is a way to break out of our shell. Harsh truth, not everyone do those traditional methods any more. While an attempt for us to learn about traditional cooking/farming of the bunun people, also a stereotyping, limited to a few hours in a single day amongst the countless day of our lives… there’s a limit to what they could show, and a need to filter for an essence, which is innately incomplete.

It’s true that we got permission to go, and they chose to spend time to teach us. We can use frameworks of racial capitalism to say that even though the whole experience, from driving through the beautiful mountain view, cooking delicious food, competing in wood chopping skill, soaking in the fresh creek, is still detrimental to the people of the bunun tribe. All I can do as a Taiwanese person is to acknowledge the culture, to learn more about it, to experience their philosophies. Powerless before the invisible hand, all we can do is to move our own.

-Ian Ho 6/2/2023

Long Bus Rides Are Good For Thoughts

As the scarlet ribbons danced to the frenzy of gongs and flutes, I was taken aback by the similarities between a 20th century Taiwanese modern dance piece and many nationalist Chinese fanfares in the 21st century. Yet, despite similar appearances, the different labels made the swelling sensation seem unique to me. Food for thought as I walked out from the performance.

The long bus ride along the highways meant endless mountain landscapes flowing past. Professor Zhou had brought to our attention the lack of agriculture on those mountains, which, though as a Taiwanese person I often see uncultiated mountains along the highway, I had never thought about why. Professor Deon had suggested rain shadow area, easily erodable soil structure, amongst couple other explanation. I’m reminded that my mother once told me that we rely on flat land at the foot of mountains to farm so we can catch the rain flowing down the mountains. Perhaps there is a fundamental quality about the mountains beside highways that make them less suitable for agriculture, and perhaps I would like to look into that.

Earlier, Professor Su had also called our smaller research group, including Sophie and myself, to discuss the information about land rights we have learned. We discussed whether the fragmentation of land ownership was an aide to big construction companies or an aid in cultivating the creative land use of the people. Importantly, Professor Su made me aware that government subsidies ensure the subsidized work in a more fail-safe way only when the subsidized still carry the majority of investment pressure. However, I feel that a better evaluation system in the government that can identify investments with potential would mean a more flexible, and more powerful subsidizing scheme.

– Ian Ho 5/28/2023

Chiayi Performing Arts Center, where we viewed the ‘Legacy’ dance by the Cloud Gate dance troupe.
Mountains with unique formations and lack of vegetation.