Book Review: Taipei, City of Displacements

Taipei, City of Displacements

Joseph R. Allen

During Taiwan's Level 3 restrictions, I've been enjoying diving into books that have been around for awhile. Taipei, City of Displacements was the first book I grabbed, because it came so highly recommended and the premise intrigued me. A book all about the historic movements and displacements in the Taipei basin -- from the Ketagalan Indigenous through the Qing, Japanese and KMT colonial eras, which can help one understand why the city is the way it is? Sign me up! 

I'm not quite sure what to make of it, though. I was absolutely entranced by parts of this narrative of displacements throughout the history of Taipei, and found others a bit of a slog. The author is obviously passionate and deeply knowledgeable about his subject and the city, and anyone writing from a place of such dedication about a city I also hold dear is certainly going to engage me. 

A displacement within a displacement: the reason for my ambivalent review is that I'm not exactly sure what audience the book is aiming for. The first chapter, which is a quick history of Taiwan, can be skipped by anyone already knowledgeable about this topic. But soon, one gets to the real meat for a person like me: the little gibs and gobs of deep history that make the city tick. Curious about why Hsiaonanmen exists? Why the Taipei City walls seemed to go up and come down so quickly, and why they were built where they were? Why the city fans out from its riverside historical core into what is more or less a grid, and why many of the parks exist where they do? Then this is the book for you. 

I was enthralled by the chapters on the history of statuary, including the fairly well-known Mystery Horse of 228 Park (I knew about the horse before I ever read the book, but the level of detail provided is astounding) as well as the aforementioned history of the roadways and parks. 

Less interesting was the story of 'displacement' through the National Palace Museum, mostly because the treatment of the subject is more surface-level and didn't cover much that was new. Hence the ambivalence: a reader for whom the history of the National Palace Museum is new information will probably be bored to tears hearing about statues in parks or random museum alcoves. But the person -- me! -- who wants to know about the statues probably doesn't need the Palace Museum chapter. The comparison to the historically neglected National Taiwan Museum is an interesting angle, however. (Even more out of the public eye? The Nylon Deng Memorial Museum). Why some old buildings in the historic center are two stories and some three? Why some of the land plots are so oddly shaped? Fascinating. A surface-level treatment of the general push eastward of the 'downtown' area? Perhaps useful for the newcomer, but again -- who is the book for, when it tries to be for everyone?

I was also a bit less interested in the discussions of film and photography: film is fine but I want to know about geography, and a lot of the photographs discussed were displayed in exhibitions long since closed. It's not clear how or if they are viewable now. More illustrations -- especially in the photography chapter but also locations of maps, roads, gates and walls -- would have also made the book come alive a bit more.

Throughout, I also wish proper names -- especially of books -- had come complete with their names in both Chinese characters and Romanization. Anyone wanting to dig a little deeper into any of the tempting rabbit holes this book offers has to go to extra effort because this information is not always included. For example, Allen mentions Greater Taipei: Investigations of an Old Map. No Chinese name -- Romanized or not -- is offered. It almost implies the monograph is available in English (as far as I can tell it isn't). I had to do some asking around, but apparently it's 大臺北古地圖考釋, with the full text available here. You would have a hard time finding it by the information offered in City of Displacements, however.

Because of this, while I want to rave about this book for its most entrancing content, I found it a bit too uneven to give it a perfect review. So instead I'll say this: do buy this book (in Taipei it's available at Southern Materials 南天書局 and possibly the Taiwan Store 台灣个店, as well as on Amazon). Overall, the parts I liked outweighed those that held less interest, and I suspect the chapters I was not as captivated by are also the ones which haven't aged as well, about photo exhibitions long closed or films I'll never see (is there any reason to try to watch Twenty Something Taipei? Doubt it.)

But, pick and choose what you read based on what you're interested in, and your own knowledge level. Don't feel like it's necessary to pick through every chapter. 

I will leave you with an interesting story, however. The book takes a cool detour of the displacement of the statue of General Claire Lee Chennault from central Taipei to the outskirts and finally Hualien.

Chennault, you say? 

I've heard of that guy before! From my post on Green Island: 

In 1937, the SS President Hoover was diverted from Hong Kong to Shanghai to evacuate US nationals living there during the Sino-Japanese war. Despite draping a massive US flag draped across the deck to identify to both sides that they were a neutral US ship (they were at war with neither side as of 1937), the ROC air force mistook them for a Japanese ship and bombed them, wounding 8 and killing 1. The ship aborted the mission and returned to San Francisco for repairs. The Americans were evacuated by other ships, as this Transatlantic Accent Guy will tell you.

Wondering who could be so stupid as to bomb the President Hoover, Chiang Kai-shek vowed to execute whomever had given the order. Apparently, this wasn't because it was a US ship so much as that it was owned by Dollar Lines, and Chiang had known Robert Dollar. This was strictly a "you hurt my dead rich friend's toy, and I am also rich!" sort of anger. 

Robert Dollar, by the way, not only seems like he looked and acted just like a robber baron, but here's a quote for you:

He travelled himself all over the Orient, seeking products to take back to the US in empty timber ships. In doing so, he made friends with all the key people in business and politics. One observer said that the ordinary people of China idolised him and that on one of his trips a three hour procession of thousands of men and women passed by his hotel to honour him! “A power in his own land, he was all but a god in the Orient”.

BARF. 

Anyway, it turned out that the person who gave the order was Claire Lee Chennault, who had been hired by Chiang's wife Soong Mei-ling just months prior. So, instead he paid him a bonus! My opinion of Soong is highly unfavorable, but instead of harping on how bad she was for Taiwan, let's take a look at how unqualified Chennault was instead:

Poor health (deafness and chronic bronchitis), disputes with superiors, and the fact that he was passed over as unqualified for promotion led Chennault to resign from the military on April 30, 1937; he separated from the service at the rank of major. As a civilian, he was recruited to go to China and join a small group of American civilians training Chinese airmen.

It seems he got a little better at his job later on, but at this point he was basically a dude who bumbled into his job and mucked it up. But "well, my wife hired you, so here's ten thousand dollars" was just how Chiang rolled. Seriously: instead of executing him, Chiang paid Chennault a $10,000 bonus. That was 10 months' worth of his regular salary!

Anyone who thinks a guy like Chiang was a brilliant military strategist against the Communists is sorely mistaken.

By all means, go read up on the fate of the Hoover in that post. Liquored seamen are involved. 

So it turns out the not-great military strategist Chiang's brutal dictatorship on Taiwan installed a statue of also-not-great General Claire Chennault in what is now 228 Park in 1960, in a ceremony presided over by Chiang's wife, who hired Chennault in the first place. Then it was moved to Xinsheng Park in 1995 for unknown reasons, and then to a Flying Tigers memorial in Hualien. And of course many of Chiang's own statues -- of himself, because he loved himself -- now reside at Cihu where their utter mediocrity (they all kind of look the same) is made more obvious by their proximity.

That's a hell of a lot of statues of crappy and kinda-crappy men being maneuvered around northern Taiwan's parks, I'll tell you that.

Updates! Get yer hot, fresh updates!

This is just a quick maintenance post to showcase some updates I've made. I've been going through my pages (pinned to the top of the main page) and updating them one by one, with the Best of Taipei page getting the most love. The blog roll and Books About Taiwan pages have received minor updates. Look for Indian Food in Taipei to be updated shortly with reviews of Moksha, Nataraj and Janny Curry House.

I've given this post about the temple to Chiang Kai-shek in Hsinchu a thorough overhaul, as well, as I had the opportunity to visit not long ago. I've included important things like a name and an address for the temple, which I hadn't bothered to do before because I was a terrible blogger. 

This also feels like a good time to make a post pointing out that I've been writing for Taipei Magazine for awhile now. I never bothered to mention it because I had thought the content was print-only. It turns out it's available online, so I'll be linking to it more. That's professional work that I do for pay, so the tone and content will be different from Lao Ren Cha. 

Here are a few of my favorite pieces for them: 

Of Paper and Leaves: Extraordinary Taipei Oases

Pick Up Your Weapon, Even If It's A Pen: a conversation with Taipei illustrator A ee mi

Flowers for All: recommended routes for flower-viewing day outings in Taipei

Finally, this is a good time to announce that I'm considering changing platforms. I like the features of Blogger that allow me to have pinned pages at the top and a sidebar archive, but the formatting is a mess. If you've ever noticed weird line spacing, font spacing/sizing issues, random font changes or stretched-out photos, this is entirely due to problems with the platform. I want something better and less stressful, as once those issues appear in a post they're difficult to fix.

I don't want to monetize; I do this for free for a reason. So don't worry, I will never move to a platform that will force my readers to pay for content.

I haven't made any decisions yet, but Lao Ren Cha might be moving! 

When you listen to epidemiologists and ignore CCP lies, you get to have Pride.

As far as I'm aware, today Taipei was the only city in the world to be able to host a Pride parade in 2020. Largely freed of the spectre of COVID19 (there hasn't been a reported local transmission in 200 days), Taiwan was able to host a public event of this size, when many countries are entering second lockdowns. This is thanks to robust adherence to expert advice as well as a healthy mistrust of anything the CCP says, because people aren't ridiculous and Taiwan has experience with this, thanks to SARS and, oh, a few generations of understanding that one cannot trust a single word of China's blatherings.

So Pride was on, and although all participants had to fill out health declarations online (there's no way they could have checked this but knowing Taiwan, most participants did anyway) and most wore masks, Taiwan carved a day to celebrate out of a year that has absolutely pummeled the world thanks to the twin horrorshows of the US and China. 

Having launched myself through several weeks of very heavy workloads on minimal sleep caused by anxiety over the US election, I simply didn't have the energy today to actually do the whole Pride parade. Instead, Brendan and I left a little later and met the event as it rounded the Xinyi-Dunhua Intersection and turned up towards Zhongxiao Road, walking a little ways until the Apollo Building, and then stopping to watch. This was also a good way to run into friends along the way as several friendly faces stopped to say hello. 

So, I have no estimate of the size, but I can say it was large. More than I expected, given that Asia's largest Pride draws a lot of international tourists, but none could come this year. Frankly, I was impressed. 

When you listen to experts and know not to believe the CCP, and follow sound epidemiological procedures even when things get difficult, at the end of it you get to have Pride. 

If you screech like a baby about your "freedom" from having to wear a mask because "your health isn't my problem, don't be so afraid of dying or giving a fatal case of it to grandma, snowflake", you don't. You get another lockdown. 

That's just how it rolls, and Taiwan has done a commendable job. So, enough of me talking. Here are some photos. I know that's what you're hear for. 

Mine aren't great this year, because I spent most of it sitting on the curb (better than last year when I wasn't feeling well, and vomited right in the middle of Zhongxiao Road), but this is what I've got. 

Long-time activist Chi Chia-wei flies a rainbow flag at the old Dunnan Eslite, now closed

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Not Just The Tip: Visiting Shezi Island

The Li Hexing Mansion on Shezi Island

I've been on Shezi (which is really a peninsula) twice, but never wrote about it as both times I was either pushing to get my dissertation proposal or actual dissertation handed in. So, now's the time! 

I'm no expert on Shezi history or anything like that, so this is more of a wanderer's blog than a deep dive, in the hope of showing that Shezi is more interesting than just its scenic bike path (though that is great, too). So far, it seems most explorations of Shezi begin and end at its periphery, which includes the scenic park at the very tip. That's certainly worth a visit, but I have more to say.

There are several buses to Shezi, though none of them run particularly frequently. The 2, 215, 536 and R10 will take you up there, from various yellow or red line MRT stations. These buses originate at or pass by Yuanshan, Taipei Main, the Jiancheng circle on the Chongqing stop near Zhongshan, Jiantan and Daqiaotou, for example. The R7 from Jiantan will also get you in the general area of some of the old buildings and a good cafe popular with cyclists.

Quick bit of advice: wear or bring mosquito repellent if you're heading up here. The entire area is lowland and between two rivers, with rural or light industrial stretches. You will get bitten if you don't prepare, and cases of dengue fever are rare but not unknown.

The most efficient taxi ride would probably be from Qili'an or Qiyan stations further north as you'll ultimately be heading to Yanping North Road Sections 8 and 9. The peninsula is huge -- far larger than one would imagine for what is often considered a remote area of Taipei -- with its base somewhere around the Yanping-Dunhuang Road intersection and its tip so far north that you can see Guandu in the distance, with Yangming Mountain on one side and Guanyin Mountain on the other. Needless to say, the bus takes awhile. 

Here's a photo I snapped along the way:

 

Before heading up, I do suggest stopping off at the Chen Yueji Ancestral Mansion (陳悅記祖宅) at #231, Yanping Road Section 4. Most of the buses coming up from the south will stop by there (but probably not the ones that originate at Jiantan). It was built in 1807 and renovated in 1859, when one of the members of the Chen family became an imperial officer, had a great deal to do with arts and education in the Dalongdong area, and was the master of the Xuehai Academy (another old building in Wanhua that's worth a visit). 

After that, it's a long slog up Yanping Road, although you will pass some funky old houses from a variety of eras, several weird store signs and a Statue of Liberty that I haven't quite figured out the purpose of yet. Yanping skirts the river for awhile before turning inland.

If you're on the bus, get off first at Jian'an New Village (健安新村). On bike that's Lane 157, Yanping North Road Section 8. From the bus stop turn into the aforementioned lane (heading south, so north if you're coming from the bike path). What you're looking for is a house somewhere in the vicinity of #s 11, 15 and 19, Lane 133, Yanping North Road Section 8 (延平北路八段133巷19號) which involves turning left into Lane 133 if coming from the bus stop, which is a right if coming north from the bike path - Google Maps says this is Alley 6 but I'm not sure if that's accurate. 

Down one of the dead-ends along this lane, you'll see an old two-story brick house. This is the Li Family Mansion, which one descendant of the sprawling Li family (the Li Hexing branch) on Shezi still takes care of. Nobody from this particular set of Li descendants was around when we came by, so we couldn't ask to see the inside. Another Li family member lives nearby; though he's not authorized to let you in the house, he did invite us into his home.

Mr. Li told us that much of the island, or at least the part of it with these old houses, is inhabited by various branches of the Li family, who settled here in the Qing dynasty to take advantage of the farming opportunities in these low wetlands. That said, he also complained about the frequent flooding, and noted that the government hadn't done much about it, telling stories about his younger years when, during floods, his family would gather in the upper loft of the house as the ground level flooded. Once, he said, the water actually made it to the upper loft and they had to break a hole in the ceiling to stand on the roof until the water subsided. From the Formosa News link a few paragraphs down, it seems likely that this was the massive Typhoon Gloria in 1963.

More information is provided by a helpful Chinese-language blog, which names other prominent families on Shezi, including the Wang and Hsieh families, and notes that the name Shezi actually has indigenous roots: a branch of the Ketagalan tribe had lived here at one point, and called it "Shezai", which later became "Shezi". 

According to that blog, Shezi indeed used to be an island, which gives us an origin story for its odd name: it's called 'Shezi Island" but it's a peninsula). Apparently, an earthquake in the 18th century caused a sandbar to come up, resulting in a spit of reclaimed land that connected Shezi to what is now Dalongdong (in Datong district). That was also about the time Han settlers began inhabiting it, often moving in from nearby Luzhou or the area between Danshui and Jinshan. 

The sandbar was still somewhat cut off from Dalongdong by a waterway until 1975, when the Chongqing Road Intersection filled it in.

Showing just how integrated the history of this area of northern Taipei is, there are two interesting related trips you can take: to one side of Shezi, the F108 bus from Danshui will take you to the Li Yanlou ancestral shrine (Li Yanlou was one of the original Li family members to migrate to Shezi). On the opposite side of Shezi, the Li Family Ancestral Mansion in Luzhou (which I swear I will blog about someday; I did go, and never wrote about it). Li Yanlou's actual house can be found at  #2 Yanping North Road Section 7 Lane 63 Alley 12 (延平北路七段63巷12弄2號), near the Fu'an Village bus stop.

The Chinese-language blog linked above offers lots of other photos of old houses on Shezi, many of which we also managed to find. Addresses are included, or you can refer to this list of historic Shezi buildings. Some are clearly Qing era, others have a strong Japanese influence notable from their use of wood. Some sections of Yanping Road Section 8 also include some interesting post-war/mid-century architecture, though there's nothing that you can't see in other parts of Taipei.

I'll include pictures below, but my recommendation is to bring along these addresses for reference, and stop by the ones that are convenient on your wanderings. Li Hexing's mansion is the real must-see if you stop by this area. 

Being a tight-knit, difficult-to-reach part of Taipei that feels isolated from the city despite its centrality, you can probably imagine that there is also a tightly-knit political scene here too. Local political figures I've never heard of play up Shezi community spirit and generally run on platforms of getting Taipei city to pay more attention (and shower more funding) on the area. This generic legislative candidate poster comes with a less formal notice of a community meeting to discuss local issues.

It's a bit of a difficult situation. Many Shezi residents want development, and it's quite fair to be angry over a lack of investment in things like safe building, flood safety and drainage. But some residents want more, citing the"tall buildings" in the rest of Taipei, but not Shezi, and the broken promises of a series of Taipei mayors who say they want to develop it (Hau Lung-pin wanted to turn it into "Taipei's Manhattan" and successive mayors have touted that line, which led to failed mayoral candidate Sean Lien (princeling son of absolute cheesemold Lien Chan) apparently calling it an "island" when it's a peninsula, demonstrating his lack of knowledge about basic Taipei geography. Ko Wen-je has also picked up the issue with the "Shezi Development Project" (no good sources in English, sorry), which appears to be ill-defined and controversial.

Some say that in order to force the issue, some landowners salted land previously zoned as agricultural in order to make farming impossible, though this report notes that the widening of the Danshui river at Guandu, undertaken after the 1963 typhoon to prevent that kind of flooding from happening again, has also let seawater flow downriver, causing a decrease in arability. The latter is certainly true, but the former is still quite possible.

But the fact remains that Shezi is a partial sandbar in a flood plain, period. I'm no urban planner, but my best guess is that it's unlikely to ever be safe to turn Shezi into a concrete jungle. Instead of planning and carrying out a sustainable investment and development plan that suits the geographical limitations of the peninsula, a succession of mayors have made insane promises of a 'Manhattan' that they know they can't deliver, and now it's hard to scale back expectations.

The area surely deserves more investment, but I'm not sure that some residents' higher-reaching skyscraper dreams could ever feasibly come true. It's hard to say whether some sort of compromise can be reached  that involves sufficient infrastructure funding and loosened restrictions on, say, rebuilding decrepit buildings but that doesn't dangerously overdevelop a flood-prone area.

A longish walk from the biggest concentration of historic buildings will take you to Lili Koko Coffee (延平北路八段2巷200弄101號 -- #101 Yanping North Road Section 8 Lane 2 Alley 200) which is along the northern section of the bike path near the Shezi Wetlands, and therefore popular with cyclists. It has big windows and a nice view as well as decent coffee and light food. 

This isn't the only cafe one can find on Shezi, however. There's another one right at the tip of the peninsula with equally great views. It's not walkable from the old houses, so you'll need to get back on the bus on Yanping Road and take it all the way to the end (the last stop is Fuzhou Village 富洲里) and walk the last minute or so.

 

Up here you'll find An Coast Cafe, which also has coffee and light food, and panoramic windows with a view of Guandu. The park at the very end is a short walk from here, and is worth a quick stop. If the wind is blowing just right you'll even catch something like an ocean breeze coming off the Danshui River, as it meets the coast not far from here. 

Also up here is an interesting (though somewhat overpriced) antique shop called 56 Deco, but they keep very limited hours. Of course, it's pricey because it's not really meant as a browsing space for the general public (though you can go there and look around), but more like a design studio for people looking to outfit their commercial space in a funky antique style.

There's also a fun rechao 熱炒 spot up here called Shezi Island Head Riverside Gourmet (my translation for 社子島頭河岸美食). I haven't eaten there yet but after dark it looks like that's where the party's at. 

All of this is enough to make Shezi a worthwhile day trip in Taipei. I haven't yet managed to see everything I want to on the peninsula, however. I've only stopped by the old houses near the Li Hexing mansion, but not the ones that are further away. There is a clutch of secondhand 'junk shops' further south on Shezhong Street (社中街) that I've found by perusing Google Maps but haven't visited yet (they're difficult to get to by public transit). I love junk shops so I'll have to go someday. 

All in all, whether you want coffee with nice views, a visit to some lesser-known historic houses or to trawl secondhand stores and junk shops, Shezi isn't a dead end, and it contains far more than just its scenic bike path.

Anyway, I mentioned funny business signs, so here you go!

Wandering around Neihu (yes, Neihu!) and a political history of the Kuo family, for some reason

On the final day of the long weekend for Mid-Autumn Festival, we decided to pick a part of Taipei we rarely visit and find something interesting to do there. Usually when we do this, we end up in one of the older or more innately interesting areas: Ximen, Wanhua, Beitou, Shezi (included here as an antique store listing, but I've actually explored far more of the area than that), Wanhua again, my many walks in the quieter parts of Dadaocheng and Dalongdong, more Wanhua. Sometimes, of course, we seek out the less clearly fascinating parts of the city and run with that. These include our visit to the oldest house in Xindian, which has probably been demolished by now, or our trip to the Li Family Mansion in Luzhou - though that post doesn't actually discuss the Li mansion as we couldn't enter that day, we did eventually visit. 

This time, we set our sights on a more challenging district: Neihu. While it looks like a nice place to live, and the restaurant scene there is improving, there isn't much to interest the casual visitor in this part of town. Other than restaurant trips, the occasional visit to a big box store (hey, that's where they sell American-style drip coffeemakers), plans to meet friends, one visit to Donghu Park and one hike, I don't think I've ever purposely gone to Neihu for fun. Has anyone?

I had a vague recollection of hearing about an old family mansion in Neihu that I'd never been to. The photos from my old set of Historical Sites in Taipei books made it look decrepit and unloved, and back when I first heard about it, there was no MRT up that way, so I let it slip from my memory. But with this idea to see what one could actually do for fun in the area, I dug out the books and found the listing: the Kuo Family Estate (now the Kuo Ziyi Memorial Hall). Nearby was another Japanese-era building -- the old Neihu Village Hall.

 

And conveniently enough, both were near the MRT.

In fact, the Kuo mansion is so close to Wende Station that I'm surprised it took me this long to check it out -- it's less than 50 meters' walk, not including a long but not particularly steep set of stairs. So that's where we started. 

Kuo Ziyi Memorial Hall 郭子儀紀念堂

MRT Wende Station (Exit 1, turn left and follow the signs, you cannot miss the gate and stairs)

Built in 1919, the house is in the Taisho style very common to that era of Japanese colonial rule in Taiwan -- you'll know it by its red brick and cement exteriors with Baroque decorative flourishes and typically wood interiors.

This was originally the home of Ku Hua-jang (郭華讓) the first mayor/borough chief of Neihu, back when it was a village unit rather than a district of Taipei City. In fact, it was an administrative unit called a zhuang 庄 in Chinese, which isn't quite a town, and was a different type/level of administrative unit from the old Qing-era system. (I don't really understand much more about that, so that's the most I can say). It was later occupied by Kuo's relative, Kuo Hua-xi (國華溪). 

The Kuo descendants from this branch of the family also were important figures in twentieth-century Taiwan.

Historical Sites in Taipei says that there was a beam installed specifically to hold "traditional Taiwanese censers and lanterns", and at some point it was re-named 碧奉宮 (Bifeng Temple), although it was never actually used as such. Apparently in the 1980s there were plans to turn it into a Matsu temple, but the architecture of the front gate was deemed inadequate, and neighbors opposed the move, which led to the site being abandoned and falling into disrepair.

Then, the World Kuo Family Association -- which has its own website -- stepped in to direct and fund its renovation. (Their website calls Taiwan the "Taiwan Area" - a minor thing, but it'll come up later). It's also now the seat of the association. 

Anyway, even though the house was built by the clearly wealthy and connected Kuo Hua-rang and his cousin Kuo Huaxi, they had a much more famous ancestor, Guo Ziyi. Guo was a general in the Anshi Rebellion (the one where An Lushan revolted) in the 700s. That would be the Tang Dynasty, Emperor Xuanzong -- if that means nothing to you, you may have heard of Xuanzong's favorite and famously beautiful concubine, Yang Guifei (who had been friendly with An Lushan....anyway, there are lots of dramas, go watch those). He was also key in diplomatic (and war) dealings with the Tibetans and Uighurs and apparently saved poet Li Bai's life. Long story short, Guo Ziyi was an extremely important historical figure who had a real impact on the history of East Asia. 

This is why, when the World Kuo Family Association renovated the mansion, instead of honoring the builders, they turned it into a memorial hall for their much more famous ancestor, Guo Ziyi. 

Here's the culture difference: if I built a bad-ass Baroque mansion because I was the local town chief, and a few generations later my descendants decided to renovate it, I'd be pretty annoyed if they ignored my legacy and turned it into a big memorial for some ancestor of mine. But, when it comes to local culture, that doesn't seem so weird at all. I bet Kuo Hua-rang and Kuo Hua-xi would not only think that was fine, but deem it right and appropriate. 

Here's another thing I find interesting: years ago, a friend of mine surnamed Kuo told me about how there were three groups of Kuo immigrants from Fujian. One settled in Yilan, one in Hsinchu and one in Tainan. More Kuos came with the KMT refugees (including the family of tycoon and supreme jackass Terry Gou). Apparently, although most of the Kuos of Fujian were entirely Han Chinese, some were actually descended from Hui ("Chinese Muslims", though I don't know how I feel about that term). Guo Ziyi was from Shaanxi (陝西) and was later named the Prince of Fenyang (汾陽王) -- according to a plaque in the mansion, this was due to his military victories in Fenyang, Shanxi (山西 - not the same as his birthplace). The Kuos had been around for a long time before the Tang Dynasty, and therefore not every Kuo can name Guo Ziyi as a direct ancestor. However, many Kuos in Taiwan, regardless of which group of settlers they were in, claim that the Kuos from Fujian originally came from Fenyang, and can be traced directly back to Guo Ziyi. 

I have no idea if (or how many) of these Fujian Kuos, many of whom eventually settled in Taiwan, were actually descended from Guo Ziyi, and how many were not. But this is illuminating: 

One of the Guo family is from Hui clans around Quanzhou in Fujian.

Early in the 14th century, a Persian Al-Qudsan Al-Dhaghan Nam (伊本·庫斯·德廣貢·納姆) was sent to Quanzhou by Külüg Khan for assisting grain transportation by sea. He failed to return to Khanbaliq due to war, then got married and settled at Quanzhou. Because his Persian surname Dhaghan pronounces similar to Chinese Guo, Al-Qudsan Al-Dhaghan Nam's grandsons began to change their surname to Guo in order to assimilate with local Han Chinese. It was politically expedient to claim they were descendants of Guo Ziyi in order to be better accommodated by Local people and later Ming Dynasty government....

In Taiwan there are also descendants of Hui who came with Koxinga who no longer observe Islam, the Taiwan branch of the Guo (romanized as Kuo in Taiwan) family is not Muslim, but still does not offer pork at ancestral shrines. The Chinese Muslim Association counts these people as Muslims. The Taiwan Guo now view their Hui identity as irrelevant and don't assert that they are Hui.

Various different accounts are given as to whom the Hui Guo clan is descended from. Several of the Guo claimed descent from Han Chinese General Guo Ziyi. They were then distressed and disturbed at the fact that their claim of descent from Guo Ziyi contradicted their being Hui, which required foreign ancestry.  While the Encyclopædia Iranica claims the ancestor of the Guo clan in Baiqi was the Persian Ebn Tur (Daqqaq).

Huh. Assuming this is true, the guy being memorialized in the Kuo Family Mansion is probably not an ancestor of all of the Kuos in Taiwan (although surely he is an ancestor of some). 

Another unofficial story, relayed to me by word of mouth, is that some Kuos from Fujian were actually the descendants of captives or slaves brought back by Guo Ziyi after his dealings out west. Some moved back west and even on to Turkey, but some stayed in Fujian. In later generations, in order to assimilate, they took the surname of their captor's family. It again was considered politically wise to simply say they were descendants rather than admit they were not Han (this is also said to account for some Kuo families not including pork in religious offerings).

I don't want to presume too much, but if the ancestors of these Kuos were actually Muslim and from areas west of China, wouldn't that potentially make them more closely culturally/historically connected to Guo Ziyi's negotiating counterparts or even enemies, rather than Guo himself? Does it matter, so many centuries later?

Perhaps that's too much of a supposition, but it's worth contemplating that the official or "politically expedient" version of history is not always the correct one.

And in the case of Taiwan, this potentially looks a lot like a Sinicization -- no, a Han-washing -- of history to keep every narrative in line with Taiwan as a mere offshoot of the "Great Chinese Nation" and its "5,000 years of history", rather than a unique place that may hold some of its own unexpected historical twists and turns. I do wonder why the World Kuo Family Association, which includes people of "Kuo" ancestry across the entire spectrum of the Chinese diaspora, might be interested in pushing a Han-centric narrative, especially in *ahem* the Taiwan Area.

Maybe I'm reading too much into it, and connecting the site to an extremely famous guy from Chinese history was just a way to get government funding for the restoration. But the Kuos are huge (just check their website!) and there's a wall of donation plaques, so I am pretty sure it was funded by the association. If you're curious, I did not see a plaque from Terry Gou. 

In any case, the mansion has been beautifully restored, though rooms that would have been living spaces once are now clearly meeting halls for the World Kuo Family Association. 

There is a rubbing from a Tang Dynasty tablet extolling the virtues of Guo Ziyi, a placard that casts some pretty passive-aggressive shade on Yang Guifei, a big idol of Guo Ziyi, some lovely wood restoration especially around the windows, and lots of dorky-fun photos of the World Kuo Family Association as well as a variety of books locked in glass cases.

It's well worth a visit. 

Neihu Village Hall 內湖庄役場會議室

#342 Neihu Road Section 2 內湖路二段342號

MRT Neihu, or a short walk from the Guo Ziyi Memorial Hall 

From the Kuo mansion, we walked to the Neihu Village Hall, which is now a community activity center. 

Built in 1930 -- so, when the Kuos were still around and probably running the area -- it faces north and looks over the "old village" of Neihu. There's nothing left of that, however: just newer residential buildings all the way to the hills. There is an old ruin called the Chen Family House a short distance north but a quick look on Google Maps made it seem unimpressive -- a ramshackle of bricks mostly hidden by a corrugated metal roof. We were hungry and it was hot, so I didn't suggest we go. 

The interior of the hall was not open but no matter; the outside looks far more interesting (you can see some photos of the interior here). In a country full of Japanese Baroque, it's refreshing to come across some straight-up Art Deco. 

The design of this hall is more interesting than its history: the tiles are greenish-blue and reticulated (meaning they have a veined or network pattern), and are dull, meaning they don't reflect light. This is apparently the "air defense color" I wrote about before, as it made buildings more difficult to identify by the bomber pilots flying above. Of course, knowing that now, I seem to have messed up the popular bright cyan color that I wrote about with this duller blue-green; it's clear that this earthier color camouflages better than bright turquoise-y cyan, and would more naturally be used in architecture where air defense was a concern. That means the bright, cheerful cyan I looked into was probably just a cheap and popular paint color in mid-century Taiwan (it was also popular in the mid-century US, so that's no surprise) and because it's both bright and contrasts attractively with brick, wood and concrete.

Of course, the "air defense color" -- that earthy blue-green -- also became popular as an aesthetic-only choice. Look at the way it's used here: there's no actual military or defensive purpose for it. It's there simply because it was deemed pleasing. 

The cyan I had been talking about looks more like this: 

Other notable features include the bull's eye windows with medallion/key pattern decorative casements -- very common in Art Deco -- and the semi-circular columns that end in a waterfall pattern that reminds me of the Art Deco dressers my mom used to have (we sold them not long ago, and though I'll miss them, I have no reasonable way of getting them to Taiwan). The stepped gable is also classic Art Deco, though only a nod to the design (some stepped gables are far more dramatic). 

After the ROC occupied Taiwan, the building was briefly named Zhongshan Hall (not to be confused with the bigger, fancier Zhongshan Hall in Ximen) and then the Neihu District Public Activity Center, now that Neihu had ceased to be a village or zhuang 庄. 

We wrapped up our day in Neihu with a visit to a whiskey store near Xihu that has a particularly good selection so I could pick up some rye (洋酒城 - literally Foreign Liquor City; there are more branches than the one in Neihu), a quick stop at Oma's German Bakery, and a late lunch at The Antipodean Specialty Coffee, which I strongly recommend. 

The walk from the Neihu Village Public Hall to The Antipodean takes about 20 minutes, and will take you past the National Taiwan College of Performing Arts, interesting for its mid-century 'Eurasian' architectural style that I find both revolting and fascinating (it looks a little bit like a budget Sun Yat-sen Memorial hall from the outside, if you squint). 

You'll also walk past Bihu Park -- it's not dramatically impressive on its own, but it does make the walk more pleasant and offer a nice place for a break. The large, white building at the far end is a reading room -- literally just a large building full of tables with air conditioning where you can go read and study. Not very exciting, but I enjoyed the review by one visitor who complained about the old lady who hangs out there like it's her house and spits loudly and frequently. 

There are more things to see and do in Neihu, of course. If you're closer to the Costco end, check out the tomb of Lin Xiu-jun (林秀俊墓), which is very close to the bus stop with good service from all over the city. Though it's just a small tomb, it's the best-preserved, and perhaps the only, traditional Fujian-style tomb in Taipei, and dates from the 1770s. There don't seem to be any animal sculptures like the one in rural Miaoli or the few you can find on Kinmen, but there are some interesting colored tiles. It's also near Aphrodite, the funky antique market I sometimes like to peruse, though I haven't been in years. 

There's also a Qing-dynasty quarry (easily findable on Google Maps) near the trail up to Gold Face Mountain. That is also a worthwhile hike, though we came at it from the Jiantan side, which took all day. A bit to the east of that are several hiking trails that snake past temples with good views and a suspension bridge.