Drum Majorettes and the Goddess of the Sea

I sincerely apologize for my extended absence - work has been ridiculous, I've had a lot to do, and something had to give. I hope, though, that I'm baaack now that I have a little breathing room during the week. At least for the next few weeks.

About 2 weeks ago (maybe it was 3? Who even knows) I went to Dajia and Lugang for Tomb Sweeping. In Dajia, Tomb Sweeping happened to also be the day that the Matsu Pilgrimage kicked off, thanks to a coincidence in lunar calendar calculations and the results of the ceremony to ask Matsu, via fortune blocks, on which day she'd like her pilgrimage to be (no joke).  So we went down to see the pilgrims off, rather luckily catching a ride with a student of mine from Dajia who was heading down to sweep a tomb with his family. It saved us having to figure out how to get there in the ridiculous traffic on Thursday. The festival really doesn't get going until Friday afternoon and night, and it poured most of the time, but we had fun anyway, and briefly met up with some of the wanderers and short-cut takers joining them in Zhanghua the next day.




The pilgrimage starts at  Jenn Lann Temple in Dajia - there isn't much info in English but they post pilgrimage information in Chinese here (if you can't read Chinese, get a friend to help you). The dates are decided on Lantern Festival, 15 days after Chinese New Year. This is also the time, if you want to go, to book hotels as they sell out quickly. Try to stay downtown. We stayed here: Dajia Hotel － old, but clean and friendly, very central, and not skeevy at all. Try the taro pastries that come out fresh in the afternoon from the coffeeshop two doors down (next to the fabric shop).

You can spend two nights in Dajia (get there a night early because on the day the pilgrimage starts, traffic is congested and highly restricted - trust me. Spend your time checking out the temples, eating, drinking coffee, whatever - there's not a lot to do in Dajia but you'll be fine. There is a Starbucks, oddly enough). Or, after the pilgrims leave you can go with them, but be warned: they walk for most of the first night and don't rest much until they get to the outskirts of Zhanghua City. You could easily sleep in Dajia, then catch a local train to Zhanghua the next morning, putter around there and meet up with them when they arrive later.

Schedules pop up online of the plans for the Matsu idol, which is carried around central Taiwan, stopping at various temples, for 9 days - but you won't know what it is until just after Lantern Festival.  That said, once the schedule is up it's fairly easy to head to where you can intercept the pilgrimage and take part in it, even for just a short while.

Noah Buchan has already written plenty on this event, so I won't repeat it here. You can read about it here, and read his own account of participating here.



Awwww.





The night before many festivals, a Taiwanese opera will be put on in the open air for the public (Baosheng Dadi's birthday includes this aspect, as well). These guys, who wear more comfortable clothing and do impressive acrobatics, are basically inserted into the plot as something to entertain the masses.





The chairman of Djen Lann Temple (Zhenlan Temple?) is currently in jail for using government money to visit a brothel. The temple itself is one of the oldest and most influential in Taiwan, and is very deeply connected to the old gangs and brotherhoods not unlike the ones explored in Monga, the film about Wanhua gangs in the 80s that came out several years ago. As old as it is, and as deeply tied to community life as it is, I was afraid of violating some cultural or religious taboo akin to wearing one's hat in church or eating a ham&cheese sandwich in the foyer of a synagogue.

Then I saw this guy on his phone up by the idol and behind Thousand Mile Eyes (Matsu's green demon attendant) and realized I was probably projecting Western taboos and could relax.



Marching bands are really popular in west-central Taiwan for such occasions. They usually have a few "sexy" (if that's your taste) bandleaders or drum majorettes.



I am a big fan of old buildings.



Then we wandered over to the Wenchang Shrine (built 1886 in a breezier, less ornate, more provincial Qing Dynasty style - Wenchang Dijun is the god of literature and culture) a little ways out of the most crowded part of the town center, where a pilgrimage group was about to set off and getting a pep talk about the journey. There had been a lantern-painting contest not long ago.













Then back to downtown Dajia where god costumes and fireworks took over the streets and a night-market like carnival atmosphere kept things interesting. It rained a lot, and hard, so we escaped to a nearby coffeeshop several times, running out for food and photos.











I think this is Jigong, but I decided to call him Guido God. He clearly approves of the smoking.



"Sexy" bandleaders.





Things didn't really get started until nightfall (and the rain also got worse). The temple filled with people and there were so many firecrackers going off that the streets were covered, in many places, with a thick layer of red paper and ash. We had to truck, in the rain, 2km out of town on foot (no taxis would take us although the road was not clogged) to get to our hotel for the 2nd night as everything downtown was booked, including our first hotel (which was just called "Dajia Hotel" and is friendly and has great wifi and cable, and despite its looks is old, but is not a love hotel at all).

Our second hotel was a love hotel. Very much so.









Another thing they love at festivals? Glitter cannons. No joke.





Lion dances are common - this one is notable for the sheer number of lions.



And every god loves an LED-bedecked palanquin.









Flags (which pilgrims carry to various temples on the 9-day route) covered in talismans (acquired at each temple) started to appear, this one at a betel nut stand.

Also, GLITTER CANNONS!





Sadly, we did not get any good photos of Matsu coming out of the temple, but I did get a video. There were so many people and I was pushed so far back with rain and umbrellas everywhere that the shots are pointlessly unclear. But as she passed to set out on her 9-day journey, people did begin to pray:



All in all, the Matsu Pilgrimage is different from other temple festivals - it attracts more people, it's not done when the parade departs, it starts officially around midnight (but all the interesting stuff around the temple starts up well before that), and things like marching bands not commonly seen in Taipei and the larger, crazier, more LED-tastic floats make it worthwhile.

Taiwan, in an Atheist's Eyes

This is one thing that's been on my mind recently, as I make arrangements to go to Donggang for this year's King Boat Festival, which centers very much around gods (or god-like beings) and how they are worshipped in Taiwan.

I'm an open atheist (used to be agnostic, but some life events changed my mind and hardened my views) - and very much a secular humanist in my moral code. This has led to problems in the USA - I do still have family members who aren't happy about, or don't accept, my lack of faith and who have said so openly. I've had people just assume I'm Christian - I was asked "where's the reception" a few times when planning our wedding (the assumption being that the wedding was in a church) and shocked people by revealing that I had no intention of getting married in a church, even if we were married by my parents' pastor.

I've had my beliefs questioned, been told I'm "wrong", and had people say - as well as seen many a comment online - about how I'll eventually "find the way" or some such. I know that I can never run for public office (not that I ever would!), because I won't hide my beliefs as many secular politicians do and an atheist is more or less unelectable. I've sat through a work event in which an award recipient spent 20 minutes talking about God. I was happy he found fulfillment in his faith, and some mention would not have bothered me, but 20 minutes? At a work event? I'd rather that work be a place where faith may be mentioned briefly but is otherwise not an issue up for discussion. It still would have been fine if he'd kept it to personal anecdotes of faith, but all the talk about how it's the "one true way" and the implication that this is what "good people" believe really got to me. Would he stop thinking I was "good" if he knew what I really thought? And why was it OK for him to talk about God for 20 minutes at a work event, whereas if I'd won the award it would have been extremely gauche for me to talk about my lack of faith for even a second? Not that Id've wanted to - just sayin'. It wouldn't have been acceptable in the same way.

I get the very strong sense when I'm back home that my lack of faith is an issue and something people would worry about if they knew me. I've had friendships fail to grow because being a part of a community of faith was extremely important to the other person, and not something I could share in. I had one relationship - a bad relationship, but it happened nonetheless - in which faith was an issue: I didn't mind that he was Christian, but he sure seemed to mind that I wasn't (and seemed surprised to learn that I wasn't: I honestly believe he had this idea in his head that good people are religious in a way he understands, and atheists are sketchy people, and since I was a good person, it shook his worldview that I did not share his belief). In another, faith was not an issue, but had the relationship lasted - good relationship, not right for me - hed've been OK with me not converting, but would have wanted any children raised Jewish. Leaving aside my desire to remain child-free, that was not going to work for me.

And, of course, the constant reminders that, despite a separation of church and state, that there's quite a bit of church in the state. I'm not leading the charge to take God off of our money, out of our pledge of allegiance (I always mouthed the words anyway and have very little allegiance to the USA) or take Bibles out of the halls of politics or the justice system: I've got better things to do than that. All it does for me is serve to remind me that I don't fit in, that I'm not one of "them", that there are a lot of people who'd view me as a weirdo or outsider for being an atheist.

And, you know, as someone who has no faith but is interested in how faith is practiced around the world, I do like to visit temples and churches, and I do like to observe religious customs when appropriate. It feels kind of weird, however, to have a look inside a church in the USA - even though I'd probably be welcome if there were no service going on, or be welcome to sit quietly and listen to the service if one were, it would label me as someone who shared the beliefs of those in the church. It would be interpreted in a way I am not comfortable with - so I don't.

I will say that this is not a problem among my friends. They are either atheist, secular, "spiritual" (as in they believe in a supreme being but aren't interested in organized religion), culturally religious (as in "I'm Jewish, I guess, but whatever" or "I celebrate Christmas because it's fun but that's about it") or are religious but respectful of differing views (which is cool - unlike women's rights, racism, certain views on poverty and gay rights, this is not an area where a difference of beliefs causes me to question someone's character). It's more of a family (not every member of my family, but some) + everyday life issue.

Then, I moved to Taiwan.

And...it's great. Religion is just not an issue. Nobody cares that I'm atheist - even my Taiwanese Christian friends. Well, I am sure some of them care, but we respect each other and don't talk about it. I don't feel like they worry about my eternal soul the way people back home might, or judge me for it. I can go to temples - fine, nobody cares. I can even light incense or draw a fortune stick. Nobody cares. Even if I say openly that I don't believe in something...OK. That's fine. So what? I can go to festivals and watch temple parades, and it's all cool. Nobody will come up to me and ask me if I want to chant a sutra or join their fellowship group. There's no cultural equivalent I can find (anyone?) to Bible study so I can't even make a comparison there.

"I don't really believe it either," some will say, "...but Grandma wants me to do this so I'll just do it."

"Does Grandma know you don't believe it?"
"Yes, but she doesn't care. As long as I do it she's happy." or "I don't know, she's never asked. It's probably not that important to her whether I believe it or not."

Imagine that - while some of that's true with my family: they know I don't believe but would prefer I go to church with them anyway, but there's still this lingering hope that I'll find my way back to the path they want for me. Grandma Huang doesn't worry about it in the same way.

If I tell people I'm an atheist - which I only do if asked, or if the person is a very good friend - the reply is generally "cool". It's just not a big deal. So much of life in Taiwan centers around religion: Tu Di Gong shrines, temple parades blocking the street, the lunar calendar cycle of holidays, the fortune telling required before marriage or baby-naming, the "yellow" almanac telling people when they may do things, and yet if you don't participate, or just observe, or go through the motions without believing, it's not a problem.

Best of all, you don't have to worry that someone's faith will come with a pre-set belief system. I realize that not everybody who is Christian shares the same beliefs - Stephen Colbert has been quite the shining example for the liberal, irreverently faithful, to the point where I refer to my liberal Christian friends as "Colbert Christians" - but there's really no fear in Taiwan that someone who genuinely believes in praying to Guangong or Matsu will let that belief influence their opinion in other areas. In the USA, I always have a moment of worry when talking to a new person who has professed a faith - so, do they think gays are evil because someone told them it's in the Bible? Not necessarily, but it happens. Do they believe that a woman's place is subservient to a man's, because that's what they've been taught is God's way? Again, not necessarily but it happens (am thinking of a blog I was reading once in which the blogger said something along the lines of "well, it makes sense that a household should only have one head, and the Bible says that's the man so I accept it to be so"). Are they going to be super conservative and go all ape-shit about Obama being a Secret Muslim or have retro views on sex in society? Not necessarily, but again, it happens. I've had such a debate - and at the bottom of it, the other person believed that pre-marital sex was wrong for religious reasons. Fine if she's just applying it to herself, but she was judging others for their choices - and how do you even have that debate when you don't agree on the fundamentals? What do you say when what you want to say is "I can't agree with you, because your views is based on a belief in a God that I do not share"?

In Taiwan, I love that someone can believe, or not, and have their views without worry or the need to reconcile them with their beliefs: nobody's going to go all "Tu Di Gong says gay sex is wrong!" (hey, that rhymes). Nobody's going to say "well because I pray to Hua Tuo, I believe that women should be silent in temples". You can believe in Tu Di Gong, or not, and it has no bearing whatsoever on how you feel about women or homosexuality. I realize there are Christians out there with similar worldviews, but it seems to me like those views would require at least some thought and reconciliation with the teachings of the Bible.

Are they going to assume that because their way is the right way, that I necessarily agree? Like that one  Western couple I was chatting with awhile back - I said something about the fat, laughing Buddha - and the guy said "well you know he isn't real, right? You know there's only one true God and it's not him?" and I was all..."uh...there is no non-awkward way to respond to that". Which, again, it's socially sanctioned in the USA for him to say that, but not for me to talk openly about my beliefs. Why? And Taiwan is so much better in this regard because I can speak openly if I choose without it getting awkward.

Nobody will make you feel like a weirdo. Nobody will make you feel like an outsider. Nobody will make assumptions about you, or be shocked that such a good person doesn't believe in the Baosheng Emperor or Matsu. Nobody will judge your character. You don't have to worry about people's reactions to your atheism. Religious displays - especially festivals - are as much cultural as they are religious, like the bling-blingiest bits of Christmas parading down the street every few weeks. Observing a festival or going to a temple is not linked to an assumption about belief - it's linked to a cultural practice.

People in Taiwan tend to joke about the local folk religion all the time - and nobody's offended. You can make a joke about Wenchang Dijun, Guangong or Confucius's birthday ceremony and people will laugh sincerely. It's just not a big deal. You don't have to worry that you've offended someone - "you can't say that about the City God!" is not something you'll hear crossing anyone's lips.

You can just...be.

And it's great.

Hidden Gems

"I'll take the strawberry ice cream crepe with chocolate sauce and dog head, please."

Over the past two and a half years, I've come to discover what a hidden gem Taiwan really is. I may complain to friends that this wonderful little island - a rough-cut green emerald in the South China Sea (with a few gray spots, to be sure) - gets so few tourists. That it feels like the entire world, including the traveling world as exemplified by tour buses at one end, and Lonely Planet-totin' kids at the other - has collectively decided to ignore* Taiwan. If someone who has visited, worked or lived there mentions the trip, many back home will initiate the following conversation:

"So, how was Thailand?"
"Thailand? How should I know? I didn't go."
"Yes you did; I could swear you went to Thailand."
"No, I went to Taiwan."
"Oh, so you were in China then."
"No, I was not in China, I was in Taiwan."

It's kind of sad, really. Between having its own rich history, being the repository for a huge chunk of Chinese history now lost to the Mainland, all of the outdoor activities it offers - when the weather cooperates - the friendly people and the magnificent food, Taiwan should be ranking up there with Japan on travelers' itineraries.

That said - yes, I complain about it. But secretly, I like it this way. I like not having to share my mountain peaks with hordes of backpackers. I like that banana pancakes are only on menus insofar as Taiwanese people seem to like them (though you're more likely to find a fruit waffle than a pancake). I like that even the most "touristy" spots aren't touristy at all, and that the locals haven't sold out to travelers' wallets. Well, maybe in Sun Moon Lake to Chinese wallets, but that's about it. I say this hoping that Penghu doesn't become the next Macau, what with allowing casinos and all. One Macau is enough, thankyouverymuch.

So part of me wants to broadcast to the world what Taiwan has to offer; part of me wants to zip my mouth and keep it all as one big, delicious (literally delicious) secret. If hordes of buxiban English teachers can come, stay a year or two and never really discover what Taiwan is about, what's the point of trying to promote such laid-back, subtle beauty to a world of people who've never even been here?

Which brings me to the next point of this post - within the island that is a hidden gem are several other, smaller little treasures, some tiny and some the size of buildings. I'm talking about the little things that make Taiwan beautiful, but aren't significant in and of themselves, and are usually overlooked. Things like a picturesque old brick wall winding its way up the side of a mountain settlement. A fat, friendly cat lounging on a warm scooter seat.



A huge image of Guanyin, Goddess of Mercy, perched atop a tiny Buddhist temple on Shuiyuan Road (#155 I think) just after it leaves Wanhua District and heads into Zhongzheng. Even from the street, you wouldn't know that this massive statue exists - and by the way, such statues are quite common down the west coast, but I rarely see them in or around Taipei. To see this one, you have to head to Zhongzheng Riverside Park and look, well, up.

I met someone in Zhongzheng Park who told me that this temple has been around since the 40s (the current statue is newer than that) and was erected because that site - just north of Guting and south of Machangding Memorial Park - used to be a popular and safe swimming area for local families. The temple was erected to keep swimmers safe. These days, I wouldn't dare jump into the Xindian River, for fear I might dissolve.

You see it on the two or three decrepit shophouses dotting the streets here and there, or the outlines of old brick arcades.

If you wander deep enough into the alleys, you begin to lose sight of the endless concrete and see the curious potted plants and vines, the friendly old lady with her ancient dog, or the lovely little shrines to all manner of gods you never knew existed.

My favorites of these gods, by the way, are the Yin-Yang God and the God of Insomnia (you can find his shrine deep in Wanhua District, not far from Huanhe South Road). The God of Insomnia doesn't cause insomnia; apparently he cures it. The shrine even has two tall god costumes for participating in parades, and seems to see a reasonably steady stream of locals praying for relief from their sleeping troubles.

You might even come across an unusually beautiful temple, full of artwork that's three centuries old, or older. We came across just such a temple in Wanhua recently - can you tell we like Wanhua? - dedicated to Matsu, goddess of the sea.



Matsu temples are fairly common here, but this one was especially lovely. It has only been at its current location for 30 years, but the idols and altars within it are all several centuries old, and were imported from Fujian with some of the first immigrants to Taiwan. Most of the temple is made of stone and wood.



In the back, we discovered two volunteers doing repair work on one of Matsu's companions (I forget if this one is Thousand Mile Eyes or Long-Hearing Ears).



Down Wanda Road, we also came across a relatively new temple whose dragon columns had especially beautiful lines.



...and at the end of this trail of tiny, insignificant-in-themselves, but beautiful-as-a-whole gems, you might just find an incense shrine topped with a beer can...or a tiny food stall autographed by the President of Taiwan (in Simplified Chinese?)...or a vendor whose specialty seems to be "dog's head crepes" (see the first photo).



*although I have noticed more recently that a huge contingent of visitors to touristy areas do in fact come on tour buses; they're just Korean, Japanese and Chinese so they blend in.