Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts

Sunday, June 5, 2016

Update on the Fu Jen University Protests

So, thinking there would just be an "update - agreement reached, strike worked!" type post, I read up on the "resolution" to the Fu Jen Catholic University's protest and hunger strike to remove the unfair - and I say that unequivocally - curfew on the women's dorm when no such curfew applied to the men's.

I was wrong. There is a lot to say about this. First, a question - it doesn't seem like the curfews are abolished effective immediately but will be abolished at some point in the future. Is that true, or did I misunderstand the (somewhat poorly-organized) article?

First and foremost, while I maintain that this is not completely attributable to "Asian conservatism" but is also in large part a symptom of "religious conservatism" (I am not a big fan of mainstream Catholic or any religious conservatism, if you hadn't noticed, and would never tolerate it being imposed on me) there are positive and negative things about the fact that the women had to protest, but also that they won.

The good: well, that they won. That civic activism actually means something and gets something done in Taiwan, and it shows that the "passive/listens to authority/Confucian values" nonsense so many people ascribe to the Taiwanese are false. They are willing to fight! How do we know? They keep doing it! From The Republic of Formosa to 228 to the Kaohsiung Incident to the farmers to the White Lilies to the Sunflowers (the aptly-named Red Shirts didn't seem to have that much of an impact, though I admit bias in not caring for their agenda), if you say the Taiwanese are not willing to fight, you need to read a goddamn history book.

That the youth have not lost hope, that they're willing to fight and they are not the strawberries their condescending parents make them out to be. How many of those older folks calling the young generation 'strawberries' would have fought to end an aspect of gender discrimination in their schools? Their own parents were the ones doing most of the fighting for democracy - what did they fight for? That this sort of activism, which seems to be dead or ineffective in the US - still has power here. I hope that never goes away.

The bad: that they had to protest at all. Their position was reasonable, their goals logical. They should have been able to talk it out with the administration without having to make a massive fuss about it. It reminds me of my own occasional skirmishes at work. While I am always quick to say that my current employers - both of them - are generally very good, and I am in a much better position than the vast majority of English teachers in Taiwan now that I work at a truly professional level (yes, I welcome your hate for saying that in the comments), I have to say this: in the past, at one employer, when I've had to fight for something I deserved, be that enrollment in Laobao (labor insurance) or a well-earned raise, I have felt like attempts at talking about it reasonably are met with resistance, or at the very most no action. It has left me, on a few rare occasions, with the feeling that if I want something I deserve, I must fight for it more strongly than I should have to. I should be able to sit down and talk it out and reach a reasonable solution without having to, I dunno, threaten to quit (a real threat, not a bluff - I was ready to quit over getting a real raise). But, nothing happens until I pull out the big guns, at which point I get what I want but am told I didn't have to pull out those guns. Except I DID, because if I hadn't I wouldn't have gotten anywhere! And I know this from having tried that route and not having gotten anywhere!

Anyway. Ahem. I shouldn't have had to take the nuclear option, and FJU Cinderella shouldn't have had to either. A hunger strike should never have necessary, and it says something rather damning about FJU and Taiwan in general that they did, even as it says something good about the students being willing to organize and fight in the first place. When will we get to the point when reasonable goals don't have to be fought for with hunger strikes and occupations?

Second, I've spent the past week or so asking around to see on an anecdotal basis what the dorm rules are like across Taiwan. I asked people who attended and stayed in dorms at NTU, NCCU, Kaohsiung Medical College, Zhongxing, Yangming University and noticed a comment on my blog from someone who stayed at the dorms at Wenhua. According to these people, Wenhua also has discriminatory curfew policies, and NCCU has no curfews of any kind but makes men sign in and wear ugly orange vests - a perfect deterrent to getting laid? A "don't fuck me" vest? - when visiting women's dorms, but women can visit men's dorms freely. The others either have equal curfew policies or none at all.

This seems to corroborate the data in the article above where well less than half of Taiwanese universities have discriminatory dorm policies.

All I can say is that it does point to Fu Jen being a special case, perhaps due to religious conservatism, but it's also far too many. Even 26% is too many to have discriminatory policies.

Finally, two points in the article:

The first is that refusing to support the protestors because as you "want to protect your daughter, not discriminate"? Screw you. Wanting to protect your daughter because she is female, but not your son in the same way, IS discriminatory. There is no way to separate the two. If you discriminate in whom you want to protect, you are discriminating. WORDS MEAN THINGS.

As a counterpoint, I loved how someone called out that whole "women are responsible for not being victims" line of thinking. Dangers to women in Taiwan are not women's responsibility to fight, they're society's responsibility to eradicate in men.

Along these lines, Taiwan's youth rhetoric on social issues is refreshingly modern. I'm a huge fan. Among the youth you don't hear any of the old "I heard this in Asia" tropes (e.g. "It's not racist because it's natural" or even worse, "there's no racism here because there are no black people here" or "of course we should have equality but women need to be extra careful") - they know racism when they see it, they are aware of intersectional issues and call out when something is race, class or gender-based (or, relevant for Taiwan, age-based), or some combination of same, or all three. They know sexism when they see it and are bracingly able to call out patriarchal ideas of blaming women for being the targets of men rather than blame the men for having targets in the first place. I am excited to see this generation grow into the new leaders of Taiwan. The folks in power may not get it yet, but they do.

And next, there's still a long way to go - the idea of implementing an electronic card system in place of the curfew so "parents can monitor their children's movements" is almost as problematic as an actual curfew! These aren't kids, they are legal adults. They're in COLLEGE. They shouldn't have to use a card that registers their comings and goings for their parents to check. I can't imagine accepting the idea of my parents monitoring where I was at all times of day and night when I started college at 16 (yes, 16. Yes, I'm bragging. Deal with it), even though I lived at home, let alone when I transferred and went away to university at 17. The idea of being monitored at 18, 19, 20? Not acceptable. What really needs to change is the idea that parents have such a right to control of their adult children. And that will be a much slower - but still possible - cultural change.

Monday, May 30, 2016

The Fu-Jen Curfew Protests: religious vs. cultural conservatism

So, a few of my friends have shared this post about the protests surrounding curfews at the women's dorms of Fu-Jen Catholic University in New Taipei (link in Chinese).

I understood despite my piss-poor Chinese reading ability that the women's dorms have a curfew and are locked after that time, while the men's dorms are not - and this has not changed despite an ongoing dialogue with the administration that tends to agree and avoid rather than actually discuss the issue. The protestors (who seem to be organized as FJU Cinderella) are giving press conferences and engaging in a hunger strike.

Yes, the entire reason for the curfew is that the powers that be are terrified of female sexuality. It's not for safety reasons, or because there is some sort of known threat, or even for legal reasons. It's because those nice young university girls might (gasp!) be sexually active and do what they please with their bodies. We can't have that now can we! So many pearls to clutch, so little time!

My first thought, though, was not "Taiwan can be really conservative!" - it was not to attribute this particular problem to Taiwanese culture at all but rather to religious, especially (but not limited to) Catholicism. American-style fundie nonsense comes to Taiwan!

I realize there is a certain prudishness about Taiwanese culture as it is, and many aspects of life here are dealt with more conservatively at home for reasons that have nothing to do with Western influence or Western religion. As a friend put it, culture in this part of the world started to turn prudish in the 19th century before missionaries even got here. But, that prudishness can't be analyzed along Western lines, because it absolutely does not follow them (where in the West are you going to find sexy church dancers along the lines of Taiwan's sexy temple dancers?), and in many ways Taiwan is not all that conservative. I've said several times it is, in my experience, more progressive than any other country in Asia by a very wide margin.

That prudishness does come out in college dorm rules - but it seems to be equally meted out to men and women. At least, as far as I have been told (I have never lived in a dorm here), while women's dorms often don't allow male visitors at all or after certain hours, and many have curfews, that men's dorms do too. The double standard that men can play but women must keep their legs closed (and only the 'bad sort' of women let the men play) seems, to me, to come out later in life when wives are supposed to be forgiving of their husbands' indiscretions, men are seen as horndogs unable to help themselves, but mistresses are evil succubi and unnatural she-beasts. At college age, the censure against sex - because, again this is about sex plain and simple - seems to be aimed at both young women and men.

As per my memory, when my sister attended NCCU no men were allowed in her dorm, but she was likewise not allowed in the men's dorms. I've been told by Zhongshan alumni that the men's dorms are further up the mountain, cloistered away farther from main campus life (and therefore more susceptible to monkey invasion) than the women's dorms.

But, all I know is what I've been told by people who have actually had Taiwanese college dorm experiences. If I'm wrong about this or you have counter examples (or examples that support this view), please do leave them in the comments. I'm entirely open to being wrong about this as I am not writing from direct experience.

If that is true, however, the practice of keeping women under lock and key but not men, to me, feels like more of a religious stick-up-the-butt than a cultural one. That it's Catholicism, specifically, causing the problem here with the church's outdated and frankly offensive views on women's rights and equality. (I want to emphasize this as an establishment problem, not a personal one: just because the church has views I find repugnant doesn't mean those who identify with that religion necessarily have similar views. It is absolutely possible to be an openminded, even feminist, Catholic, though it does entail differing with the church on certain issues).

That's not to say that very traditional thinkers in Taiwan aren't woman-blamers and chauvinists: many are. A student of mine from a college in Danshui told me about how her father lets her brother sleep at friends' houses, doesn't have a curfew for him when he is home, and lets him stay in the dorms at his own university, whereas she is expected to live at home with her parents and commute to college, and be home by a certain time. This attitude is not unheard of here. It just doesn't strike me as the reason why the women are locked up like untrustworthy lusty schoolgirls while the boys are allowed to hot-dog it all over town without censure. No thought given to the notion that young people are gonna get it on (to be honest, not me, despite living in a co-ed dorm freshman year - I was a hopeless nerd and kind of still am), and that's only a problem if you make it one by not educating them properly or by thinking its somehow wrong or unnatural.

That, to me, feels particularly religious in origin. I hear echoes of the Republican party and religious right in it. Hell (pun intended) it's one of the many reasons I left the US: as an atheist I was sick of public discourse being skewed so far to the right that moderates in the US look conservative in every other Western country, and liberals in the US are moderates by any reasonable standard elsewhere. I am a flaming liberal by American standards but pretty moderate by European ones, and I see myself as a moderate. I'm not a Communist or anarchist after all and I am married, which is a pretty establishment thing to do, although I would not say I have a traditional marriage. I was sick of being demonized for not only not believing in God, but not believing in the whole raft of misogynistic bullshit that seems to come with strong religious faith. The whole aspirin-between-the-knees victim-blamey "she had it coming wearing that skirt" "boys will be boys" purity ring flood of pure stinky douche that has poisoned and divided my own clumsy culture by creating a culture war that nobody with any sense wanted.

I would hate to see it start up here. Taiwanese culture grows more progressive by the day. The last thing it needs is a bunch of Western-style fundies screwing it up.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Why the Earth God Is My Favorite God

Image from here

The best god ever.

As you may remember, recently we'd found out we'd have to move. I was stricken - although of all the things I value, the least horrible to lose is our greatly-cherished living space, I still felt sick at the thought of having to leave it when I didn't want to.

Well, things have changed. Although I don't believe in God, or any gods, at least one of these supernatural nonexistent beings is awesome.

One thing I love about folk religion in Taiwan is that you can participate in it without necessarily believing in it. It's hard to wrap one's head around this from a Western mindset, but there is nothing about Chinese folk religion that has a problem with atheists praying at temples. I suppose it is preferable if you believe in the god, but if your question or problem is sincere and visiting a temple gives you some unnameable comfort, or is done out of family or traditional obligation, the act itself is good enough and the mind does not have to be behind it. If you're in Taiwan, ask your friends or students - some really believe, but you'd be surprised how many are agnostic or atheist or "vaguely spiritual" without any clear convictions, who see no problem in participating in temple rituals.

I know in a lot of Western cultures, worshipping when you don't believe is somewhat taboo. I have heard, however, that in some Jewish circles it's fine: you can be an atheist and still participate in the culturally prescribed rituals, but feel free to correct me if I'm wrong there. It seems to be fairly common among cultures where the dominant religion and the culture itself are so deeply intermingled that there is no clear line where secular "culture" ends and "religion" begins.

As I wrote in my last post on the topic:

Side note: one thing I like about Chinese folk gods like Tu Di Gong is that they don't care if you're an atheist. They care that your issue or question is sincere, and that you show up to pray. Even if you don't pray, they may help you. If you do, they may or may not, it depends on their mood or whatever heavenly politics they're involved in at the moment. The idea that an atheist could go to an Earth God shrine in Taipei and pray, despite not believing, is not irreconcilable in this culture. To me this is realistic (either a god will help you or he won't, and praying may help your case, or you may get lucky), echoing how things work in the real world (either you get lucky or you don't). It's a way to make myself feel better, and feel more connected to life in Taiwan. I can do that, and be an atheist. Thanks, Earth God. You're cool.

I also quite like that religion in Taiwan is not a closed-off thing. There's no conversion process. You don't have to attend meetings or go through a ceremony in order to be considered a true believer or "congregation member" of Chinese folk religion. The gods are there, according to local tradition, and you can believe in them or not, pray to them or not (but if your family is traditional you'd better pray to them no matter what, just in case). You don't have to be a believer at all!

And while it's uncommon, and perhaps surprising, when a foreigner goes to a Chinese temple to pray, it's not forbidden, nor is it particularly taboo.

So, when I found out I'd have to move, my Chinese teacher and I went off to the nearest Earth God (土地公) temple, which we were directed to by my doorwoman (who thought it was cute, but wasn't entirely shocked, that I wanted to go). The Earth God isn't a one-off god, every area has its own shrine which oversees property, moving, farming, business and other issues for that area and you have to go to the shrine in your area, so I figured it'd be best to go to the one my doorwoman goes to.

And, lo and behold, that weekend our landlady's sister gave us up to a year to move rather than the original two to three months. Thanks Earth God!

Over the next few weeks, we looked at 5-10 apartments, and liked only one of them. It was in our lane, so the neighborhood was the same. It had a different - not better, not worse, just different - layout. I liked the better-designed kitchen, separate living and dining areas, two large bedrooms (one could be both a guest room and an office), and two recently renovated bathrooms, one of which had a Japanese fancy magic toilet.  The downsides were refrigerator and washer/dryer spaces that didn't quite fit our appliances and some traffic noise, no outdoor casement for my bougainvillea, orchids and mint, and no window looking out on a courtyard.

We wanted to take it, but the agent's fee was one full month paid by us, and we had to move in almost immediately. Yeeeaahhh that's a big ol' sack of NOPE. We told him we were interested, but the highest agent fee we'd ever seen was half a month paid by tenants, and we couldn't move until April. He said he'd "let us know" and then we didn't hear from him for two weeks, so we figured the answer was "no".

About two weeks later I was doing my morning tutoring in Zhonghe (I don't do it for the money). My bus sideswiped a car soon after I boarded, and rather than wait for the next one after traffic cleared, I walked to Burma Street (華新街) for lunch. Then I grabbed a bus to Ximen, figuring I needed to pick up some more Imigran and it would be fun to wander around Red House and the arts&crafts market. I passed a few people bearing huge flags that said "Normalize the Recognition of Formosa State" and took some photos. At some point on my jaunt, my phone battery died.

I didn't buy anything at the market, figuring I needed to watch my cash flow if I was going to have to move at some point in the near future, and grabbed another bus home. This one stopped very close to the Earth God shrine, so I decided it was time to go back and say hello, thank him for his help so far and ask for his continued support. You know, like ya do. 

But this time I was alone, no Chinese teacher. It was a stuffy afternoon, with a pale yellow sun whose light felt blunted by the haze. The sky was that hot Taipei white that is neither cloudy nor fully sunny. I felt a bit weird - being a weekend, there were more people at the temple and I felt watched. Why would she need to pray? I sat at a bench at the far end of the temple enclosure. Is she just tired? Do foreigners go to temples? Hmm. 

Nobody said that - but I could feel it. Or I was making it all up in my head. I don't know. I still have a lot of baggage from growing up in a culture where it's odd both be an atheist and go to a place of worship. Plus, I still wasn't entirely sure a foreigner would be welcome to take part in this cultural ritual, although all of my experiences have pointed to the contrary. 

What's more, I really, really did not want to get involved in cultural appropriation - real or seeming. And I wasn't sure if this counted.

And yet by doing this, I did feel more connected to Taiwan. I live here, my "property" (well, my rental property) is here, and the god looks out over that property, and there's no set of rules on who can pray to him and who can't. I was looking at this as someone who wants to be more connected to the place where she lives and learn about it by living it, not someone who wants to take on the elements from another culture so she can feel cool or special. But I wasn't sure if that would come across to others. So.

I sat on that bench for a good 40 minutes, both gathering the courage to talk to a god I didn't believe in, and waiting until there were fewer people around so I could do so in relative privacy. After swinging back and forth on it, and feeling really out of place in a way I hadn't since I'd first moved to Taiwan 8 years ago, I decided to go for it. 

The way to pray is this: you check the number of incense sticks that go in each burner, and what order they go in. You light the appropriate number (it's usually posted on a sign near the incense). First you stand facing away from the shrine, toward the large burner in front - that usually gets a few sticks, this one got three. You should repeat your prayer. Then you face the temple and pray again. You can murmur but don't speak out. Add a stick to that burner. Then go inside, on the right (the side with the dragon) and pray to the gods inside and put a stick in that burner. Then there's a small tiger god under the Earth God - only at Earth God shrines - he gets a stick too. People looking to succeed in business will put their business cards around the burner down there. Then you exit via the tiger door. When you pray, you should give your name and address so "the god knows where to find you".

I lit the incense, walked to the burners and started the familiar murmur (in Chinese, although one would think the gods could understand any language): My name is Jenna, I live at Fuxing South Road Section....number...I want to thank you for...and I hope you can...

My phone had been out of batteries for about 2 hours at this point. When I got home and plugged it in, within minutes it lit up with a message from the agent of the one apartment we'd liked. The call was time-stamped at about the time I'd been at the temple.

I called him back - we could have the apartment on our terms! Yay!

I punched Brendan's name - he agreed. Let's do this.

I called the landlady's sister. And...

Oh, I was going to tell you. 

You were?

I found another place to live. You don't have to move. I'm OK in this new place.

WHAT?

I confirmed three times: so we can stay? So do we have to look for another apartment? So you won't move in?

Then I confirmed with the landlady, who didn't really know but confirmed later that her sister was telling it true. We didn't have to move.

We don't have to move!

It was probably a coincidence, but the idea that I'd find out right after I'd been to the Earth God temple to ask for his continued help (and to admit I still did not, in fact, want to move although I'd accepted that I'd have to), with the catalyst being a phone call that came at just about the moment when I was praying...that's odd.

A week after that, I got together some Ghirardelli dark chocolate sea salt squares, a box of brown sugar mochi (I hear the Earth God likes sweets, especially mochi) and three tasty ripe oranges. You're supposed to bring three or five things, and if one of them (say, a piece of fruit) is small, you should bring three pieces to make up that one part of your odd-numbered offering.

And the fact that the landlady's sister wouldn't think to tell us we didn't have to move until right after I'd been to the temple, in a way that seems kind of weird (you'd think she'd have called us once she'd made that decision - the whole thing seemed rather sudden) - that's odd too. Odd and wonderful, like offerings numbered one, three, five or seven.

This time the sky was a roiling gray, spraying rain down at random intervals like someone spastically turning a showerhead on and off. It was a Friday - the temple was almost empty. I unpacked my offerings - this time I didn't feel weird about it. The Earth God (who isn't real) did us a real solid (which was very real), he deserved this offering and I was going to give it to him.

Saturday, June 29, 2013

"Hi, can I talk to you? Are you interested in meditation classes? Let's have coffee! What's your phone number?"


I've lived in Taipei for seven years now, and there's something I've noticed that goes on here more than anywhere else I've lived.

It seemed like a good thing at first - a point in Taipei's favor - but after awhile, I started to wonder. Then I had a bad experience, and heard of someone else's bad experience, and started to wonder if there weren't people out there, both local and Western, who were taking advantage of the famous friendliness of Taiwan.

The thing that kept happening to me - and still does, although I deflect it more now - is people coming up to me not only to "chat" but also to "make friends" in a way that seems very purposeful. I'm not talking about the sort of chats where you exchange information after awhile because it seems natural. 

I'm talking about the times when they're aching to be your BEST FRIEND RIGHT NOW. The ones whose initial purpose seems to be chatting, but who are noticeably intent on getting your name, phone number or e-mail address. If they get ahold of your phone number they may call you again and again, inviting you "out" or to "join a cool activity" or to "have coffee with us", and will continue doing so even after you've rejected them a few times.

I am writing about it here because it seems to happen far more often to Westerners, especially women, and because it's really easy to get pulled in by this.

And so, because it seems to disproportionately affect expat women, I felt it was worth it to write something.

The two most common (aside from guys trying to hit on you, occasional people with mental health issues or social awkwardness, and people who want you to be their English-speaking friend or teacher) seem to be people from religious organizations (Buddhist and Christian, mostly) and MLM people (think Amway).

I've been approached several times by the religious people - mostly Westerners studying Buddhism. I live in downtown Taipei, by the way, in Da'an. It seems to happen a lot around Technology Building MRT and Shi-da. There is one organization that seems to do the most recruiting around there, but they are by no means the only one in Taiwan that does this.

What happens to me pretty often is that I'll just be walking  - maybe waiting to cross the street or not, maybe with headphones or not - and a very sincere-sounding person will approach me. In my case it's always been women - a few foreign women and one local. It doesn't seem to matter if I'm moving or if I appear to be listening to headphones. They'll come up and try to talk to me anyway. They might start with just "hi" or "it's nice to see another foreign woman" or "hey, can I talk to you for a second" or "can I ask you a question". One has lots of postcards on hand detailing her organization, another "just happened" to have an artfully rumpled brochure that she could give me ("I'll just get another one!").

In every instance, they start out seeming to just want to chat, but quickly reveal that their main purpose is inviting me to an event or scoring my contact information. These tend to be cultural or spiritual activities, from scenic walks to artistic stuff to, more often, meditation and qigong classes or "studying Buddhism".

The first time someone approached me, I was intrigued and took the brochure. I never did join a class or activity because I didn't have time and am not into religion at all, or even spirituality. I also thought she seemed a bit odd, but hey, I can be socially awkward too so who knows. The second time I began to wonder. The time I got someone who seemed truly dotty who approached me with headphones in I grew suspicious. Why DID this keep happening to me? Wouldn't any reasonable person see 'headphones' and think 'she doesn't want to be bothered'? That's half the reason why I wear them sometimes! Another time, someone tried to approach me with the "it's so good to see another foreign woman" line, "it's tough to be here, alone and single, and all the guys are doing their own thing", she said.

"Yeah...I'm not single, sorry. Actually I'm doing great. But I'm sorry to hear you feel that way. If you'll excuse me, I have to get home." I mean I don't disagree with her that a lot (not all, just a lot) of expat guys are dicks, but I do have a husband and male friends and don't really want to start a conversation by disparaging them. I didn't appreciate the assumption that as a Western woman in Taiwan, I must be single and I must be frustrated. That made me wonder if they specifically target Western women who appear to be single. And if so, it made me wonder why (such women are possibly lonelier, and therefore more vulnerable)?

I started talking to others about it, and found that I'm not the only one. Other female friends have said they've been approached in that area, too. It's weirdly common. Most male friends, including my husband, have not, although my husband says he wears headphones almost all the time in Taiwan. He didn’t in Korea and was frequently approached by Christians inviting him to various church activities. 

So after awhile I started talking to people who have had direct experience with this group. The classes and activities you are invited to are all real. although from what I hear "meditation class" is really just a bunch of people gathering around to chat. It's not a front. But if you start out doing the activities and get more involved in the group, they start to try to get ahold of you. They'll hold classes at odd times of night (depriving you of sleep), tell you that you should talk to "good" people with "good" souls (controlling who you talk to and interact with and making it so that all of your good friends are also in the group), will encourage you to speak about any secrets or past issues that "bother you" so that you can be more "at peace" in studying Buddhism (gathering information about you that they may use against you later), making you feel not "spiritual" enough (think of it as spiritual negging - complimenting you on your achievement but telling you that you must do more, in an attempt to make you feel inadequate) and making you feel that without them - their classes, their teaching, their master - that you will be spiritually bankrupt or are hurting yourself. From what I've learned, most of the bad experiences are among the women - men have an easier time of it. I don't know why.

I've seen it with locals, too. The other day I couldn't help but overhear a conversation between an ABC and a local involved in some Christian group. The ABC was using the same negging tactic and disparaging other Christians and atheists to try to keep the local in the group when the local expressed doubts. It's one thing to be in a group together and support each other - and I don't care if your group is spiritual or not - but another to use manipulative tactics to try to keep people in your group.

And in all cases except the final few, it didn't occur to me to be suspicious because "Taiwan is so friendly". I had my guard down. 

And of course, there are the occasional MLM people.

My first experience of this kind was with a devotee of the Holy God of Amway. I was still pretty new in Taipei. I got to chatting with a Taiwanese woman in a ladies' room at a Zhongshan Hall concert - her being Taiwanese is important to the story, as at the time I had few local friends and I was eager to make more. We hadn't chatted long when she asked to exchange contact information. I thought that was a bit odd, but figured "Taiwan is really friendly, and safer than the USA. Maybe it's a cultural difference or she's just a bit awkward, anyway, you don't have to be as guarded around everyone the way you did in DC."

She kept calling me, inviting me to "have coffee together" and "talk about music" (as we'd both been at a concert and were therefore both ostensibly interested in music). "I know the main performer at the concert," she said, "we're friends. I'll introduce you because I think you would like each other." That was the hook I needed - more local friends! Interesting musician friends! I've missed music so much since graduating from college! Her invitation times were never convenient for me. I actually felt bad turning her down so often, but I just couldn't make the random times she suggested. I think a normal person, feeling like their invitations have been rejected a few times, would probably stop calling. I knew I would. But I was still idiotically duped into thinking "but Taiwan is SO friendly, and the etiquette about this sort of thing is probably different than back home" (hint: it's not).

So one day she suggests a day I happen to be free, and I say yes. Then she says she lives in Taoyuan (!) and can we please meet "in the middle" at Taimall in Nankan. I really wish I'd just said no, it's Taipei or nothing, but I'd already turned her down so many times and felt bad. So we ended up on a bus to Nankan, had coffee not at Taimall but at some Amway center behind it, and then got dragged through a presentation I couldn't wait to get away from. You should have seen me sprinting off that bus with Brendan in tow. She never called me again. I never did meet those musicians, surprise surprise.

I was lucky it was just Amway, in retrospect. I have most certainly heard of young foreign women at the business end of cons to trick them into prostitution rings, cults and worse (I have not heard of anything like kidnapping or murder, or rape - although I feel you could call "tricked into joining a prostitution ring" rape, as by the time you figure out what's up, you're quite likely to also be in a position where it's submit or be beaten, held hostage, threatened or killed).

The second time someone was similarly friendly (an older woman on the MRT), I again had to turn down a lot of invitations, again felt bad. She kept calling "to have coffee" and after awhile I felt - "this is just weird". I decided not to take her calls. My previous experience was telling me something wasn’t right. She finally gave up.

The warning here isn't just "don't be dumb like me" - although that's part of it. It's this: Taiwan is an extremely friendly country and for the most part it's safe. All this "Western women being led to prostitution rings" is the exception, not the norm, and seems to be less common than it was 20 years ago.  Even if you are a savvy traveler and would beat a hasty retreat at such over-friendliness in other countries, it's easy to let the soft lullaby of "it's safe here" dull your instincts. Especially if you are female and you've spent your entire life keeping your guard up, expending energy maintaining your psychic and physical fortifications, and you're just tired. The break - the desire to just trust without worrying too much - can be very tempting. And in Taiwan, for the most part, you can give in a little bit and still be safe. But you can't let that blunt your most basic instincts - you don't need to always be ready to kick someone in the soft&delicates (like I was in DC), but there still needs to be some modicum of savviness.

So let the warning be clear: Taiwan is very friendly. People who come up to chat with you are mostly harmless. But "overfriendliness" to the point of pointedly asking for your contact information before you've even really gotten to know the person...that's just as weird here as it is in other countries. Someone commenting on your Chinese ability and then chatting with you for a second is normal and fine (if you don't find it annoying - I don't). Someone approaching you under no pretext, or a flimsy one, and being just as interested in your e-mail address as actually talking to you - that's not normal here. That's not "Taiwan's famous friendly culture". Don't fall for it.

Don't be taken in. Be on your guard, just a little bit. Chat with people, but know where the line is. Above all, be aware. Don't get pulled into a bad situation.If you feel a group is trying to dig its claws into you, if they are trying to get you to come in at odd hours, attend classes at midnight, call you in for no reason at all, tell you who you should and shouldn't talk to, gather information on your past issues or make you feel inadequate as you are, GET OUT.

If someone you have talked to for a total of two minutes keeps calling to invite you out "for coffee", that coffee will most likely either be at a religious center or an Amway center. Don't go.

Taiwan is safe, but that doesn't mean it's utopia.

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Strange Gods

So, as you all know, I'm an atheist. Until recently I was a hardcore "I don't know" agnostic, but certain life events have erased even that glimmer of doubt that the universe is unregulated chaos that forms areas of organization - sometimes very detailed organization - only insofar as the laws of physics encourage it. Chaos makes sense to me, because when I look at the world, I see chaos. The organization I do see is just about entirely explainable by science. I don't see the hand of a supreme being.

That said, I'm interested in investigations into the veracity of religious beliefs or paranormal activity (the same thing, as far as I'm concerned), because study of anything curious and seemingly inexplicable is, well, interesting.

That's why I was fascinated to learn that a former student and now friend of mine participated as a researcher in this study on "Chinese character induction" or "finger reading" when he was a student many years ago. (This blog post by Michael Turton, as well as this paper, are the only English-language mentions online of this study that I could find). According to him, the study was more than just writing on paper and then folding it into a small ball - they put the papers under metal sheets and blindfolded the children, and the children could still use their fingers to "read" the characters and accurately tell scientists what the characters were. And that the characters that could be most easily read were ones like "Jesus", "God", "Buddha" and "Guanyin" as well as some Indian gods, among others. "Matsu"was also fairly strong, but other minor deities or supernatural/mythical beings were either barely readable or unreadable. Common characters (like "book", "coffee", "wash" or "jacket") were not readable. The children apparently reported that they could "see" the characters with their fingers, and they'd present themselves in their minds as lights of various brightness (that's not what the paper says, however, not exactly).

This person now has his PhD and is fiercely intelligent. He's not a wacko. He said that before working on the study, he was about as much as an atheist as me, except that he didn't care enough to label himself. Now, he says, he believes that "there has to be something".

Now, as I said, I'm an atheist. I don't believe any of this. At the same time, I don't think he's lying. I think he certainly did work on that study and he probably did see something that freaked him out. That doesn't mean, necessarily, that this stuff is true, just as "there is a God because I feel God's presence" is not solid evidence that there is, in fact, a God. Not even studies showing that there is a slight uptick beyond regular probability that something will happen - like a relative getting well - if people pray for it prove this.

It's a strange middle ground to be in, when you believe your friend and know he's not crazy, but you are also dead certain that this stuff isn't "real", or even if it is, there has to be a scientific explanation that we're just nowhere near understanding yet. I absolutely do not believe there is anything that can never be explained by science: only things that science as it is now can't yet explain, as it is insufficiently advanced. If there were something in this world that could not be explained by science, why have science to begin with?

It also made me think of something else: see, I have another friend who recently became a Christian (his wife is Christian - they are both Taiwanese). While I personally would not have made that choice, I am happy for him insofar as he's made a choice that he feels is right for him and makes him happy, and that's really what's important. In that way, I fully support him.

This friend and I had had a chat many months ago in which he asked me why I go to all these temple parades and festivals in Taiwan. "Because they're COOL," I replied. "Far more interesting than religious services in the USA, and far more interesting than parades by far."

"But do you actually believe in, say, Baosheng Dadi or Matsu or any of that?"

"Honestly, no. I don't believe that Baosheng Dadi is a real immortal being or a god. He was a real person, but I don't go in for gods."

After that, I thought about it for awhile. I don't believe in God or gods, but if I had to choose between the two, I'd go with the folk gods - be they Chinese, or Hindu gods, or any polytheistic pantheon of gods with specific functions and often difficult personalities with their own desires and whims, likes and dislikes and internal disputes.

Why?

Because, while it still makes no sense that there are these immortal powerful beings who can control events in the physical world, at least one thing does make sense: how the world would be if they were the ones in control. It would more or less match up with what we have now. In Taiwan people regularly consult "fortune blocks" (校杯) - those crescent-shaped wood or red blocks that can give one of three answers - no, yes, or "laughing god" (for the final one, imagine if you said "God, will I die of cancer?" and God answered "ha ha ha!"). The answer they give correlates basically exactly to probability, because it cannot do anything else - and so, yes, the world that we have, with correlates with statistical probability, would align pretty well with those blocks, including the times that the blocks are wrong.

Taiwanese will regularly make it clear that the god they are praying to may choose to answer their prayer or heed their request...or not. It really is up to the whim of the god. If you pray they may listen, and so you've upped your chances, but then if you don't pray, it may still happen. Only Baosheng Dadi or Hua Tuo or Wenchang Dijun can really know, and it is pretty well understood and respected that they act on their own preferences or whims. To me, that also correlates pretty well with the world I see.

Gods in folk-grounded pantheons - be they Hindu, Chinese or whatever - tend to have a lot of internal disputes, weird hierarchies and difficult personalities. When you think of them more as brawling, incestuous, clique-forming and reality-show-imitating natural forces, what happens in life fits perfectly with how you envision them acting. Kids are starving in Africa because the god of food either doesn't care, or is busy doing his sister, or is pissed off, or is otherwise occupied. Not "people are starving in Africa, but hey, GOD LOVES YOU, even the starving ones, but you're still starving because...uh..."

Think about it: bad things happen to good people. All the time. Half of Africa is bad stuff happening to good people. Good things happen to bad people: just look at Wall Street. You could say that God is benevolent and kind and this horribleness is the work of terrible, evil, original sinning humans...

...or you could say that that's just how it is, life sucks then you die, or maybe it doesn't suck, or maybe like most of us it's somewhere in the middle, and it's all random because that's how it seems.

You could then decide you want a religious belief, because you want to believe there is something bigger than you, bigger than all of us. That's great - it's a natural human urge. Even I have it. You could either believe in one omniscient, omnipotent God who loves us all (or create a really angry god who then gets a personality makeover a la New Testament), and then try to twist what you see in the world to fit that belief...

...or you could take what you see in the world and empirically try to deduct what the spiritual/godly realm must be like.

Science works based on the latter principle of deductive reasoning. The former is inductive reasoning, and it's just not how we do science, generally (although it sure is mighty tempting). It makes sense to me to base a spiritual belief system on deductive, rather than inductive, thought and explanation.

So no, I'm still not into this whole spiritual thing, although I find discussing it and thinking about it to be fascinating and worthwhile, and I do respect the beliefs of others (if you wanna be Christian, that's fine by me, as long as you don't tell me what I should believe. I'll even join you at the "Jesus was a pretty awesome progressive dude with a strong moral philosophy that we can learn from even today" party. I'll bring the whiskey. I'm pretty sure that although Jesus was a wine guy, he'd probably like whiskey).

But if someone put a gun to my head and told me I had to believe something - hey, it's happened to people - I'd go with polytheistic folk beliefs. Definitely. At least those jive with what I see.






Tuesday, October 16, 2012

乩童: Spirit Mediums in Donggang


Yes, that guy does have flags pinned into his skin.

We headed to Donggang last weekend for the opening of King Boat - the first day, in which the various participating temples arrive with their idols, dancers, eight generals (八家將), spirit mediums (乩童), guys in various hats and what have you. Everyone heads down to the beach, which has a fine gray sand. I suspect the sand is this way because every three years they burn a massive boat to cinders, and some of that sand has to be mixed with ash by now.

Then, you sit under the hot sun for awhile, until "whenever the gods decide to start" - at first it seems like nothing is happening and everyone's just hanging out on the beach with their idols for no reason. A few people start to show signs of going into a 乩童 trance (the verb in Taiwanese is ki dang, the noun is dang ki). It's interesting but not that lively - and then more people go into trances, then more, and it seems like all at once the entire waterline is full of these guys, doing whatever it is the god tells them to do. 

Some self-flagellate, pierce or otherwise mutilate. Others do what look like kung fu or tai chi moves. Some run around screaming and laughing. Some eat burning incense, or rub incense on their skin. Some shout and dance. Some hiss or buzz their lips, others actually speak. Their accoutrements are different - spiked balls, spiked swords, spiked clubs, needles, flags, incense and more (one guy was possessed by Ji Dong, wore a yellow robe and drank from a yellow medicine gourd, and spewed the liquid into the air).

Any way you slice it, or hit it, or spike it, or burn it or pierce it, they're there to call in their various gods from the sea, chiefly among them 千歲爺. With no good English translation I'm just going to go ahead and call him Qian Sui Ye, or Thousand Years Grandfather.


I don't really believe in this stuff (as you know, I'm an atheist) - my view is that it is completely and thorougly fascinating, however, for several reasons.

First, I do believe that these people are entranced. What I don't believe is that they're possessed by gods. I suppose it's possible, and I could be wrong, but I doubt it (I also doubt that there's one big old dude in the sky who tells us what to do - I doubt everything). I do believe that they are somehow able to bring on this trance, and the heat, beating drums, gongs, incense, waves and general overstimulation of the environment brings it on faster.

I also believe that there's an element of mass entrancement - such things have been documented - stemming from the similar states of mind of these spirit mediums. That makes sense to me.

What fascinates me is this: I have never been hypnotized. Our college campus, like many, hires (or used to hire) a hypnotist to come out and entertain students for a night in the main university auditorium. Every year I'd go, and every year I'd volunteer to go onstage, and I was never picked (it was a big auditorium). I watched the people who were picked and was never able to really comprehend what it must feel like. I've never done hard drugs not because I feel they're immoral (committing crimes to get money for drugs is immoral, and wasting your life on drugs without helping society is amoral, but the action of ingesting drugs in and of itself is not "wrong" in my view - it's your own body, you're free to do that), but because I'm frankly a bit scared of what an altered state might feel like. Also, considering how easily I get hooked on caffeine, I'm terrified of addiction.

So I am just really interested in what these guys must be "thinking" or feeling in that state. Do their facial expressions give it away? What do they feel when they hurt themselves?

                                    

They say that spirit mediums don't feel any pain when doing this, and that because they were possessed by gods or spirits when doing so, they heal quickly and without infection. I'm not so sure, seeing as the handlers (all spirit mediums have handlers who are able to touch them, and who will push you away of you get too close) carried spray disinfectant and would routinely spray down fresh wounds after infliction or after the spirit medium went into the water.


Second, I'm fascinated by, well, who these people are.

                                      

I mean, that guy? He's probably somebody's Grandpa. Do his grandkids know that he does this once in awhile? Does that scare them? My guess is that the answers are "yes" and "it depends" - an urban kid in relatively religiously tame Taipei would probably be all "whaaattt", but a kid born and raised in Donggang would likely think it completely normal and maybe think he might do something similar someday - it'd be no different than Grandpa being a deacon at church or a cantor in a shul.

More jokingly, I wonder if these photos make it into family photo albums (probably not, ha). "Come here, Little Chen, have a look at these photos of Grandpa Chen - he's possessed by spirits. Be a good boy or Grandpa will come and get you.")

(JOKING! Joking).


Third, I wonder if, in their entranced state, they can see those around them. This dude is looking right at me, and frankly, it's a little scary. I wonder what he sees when he looks right at me - does he see "some white girl" or does he see what a god would presumably see (what would a god see?), does he not see me at all, or what? Spirit mediums don't react to those around them, generally (they may react to handlers or to idols, but generally not people standing around. If you are in their way, they will continue hitting themselves and if you get scraped or whacked, that won't stop them).


Fourth, I have to say I am happy to see women being given an equal role in this event: basically, the gods choose who will be their receptacles/liaisons, and if they choose a woman, it's not for men to say that she can't do it. Women jitong/dangki are more common in southern Taiwan - I'm not surprised, but again this supports my case that the south is not "more sexist" as many Taipei folks will try to tell you. It's sexist in different ways, but it's not "more sexist". Just ask any obasan who runs her family's company, or a female spirit medium.

How do the gods do it? Either through indicating to that person through causing them to become entranced or through being chosen and undergoing training. You can read in the link above (here it is again) that if the gods choose you, you become entranced at temple affairs - not surprising, again, with all the drumming and gongs and incense and dancing, seems like a good environment in which to go into a trance. I've also heard that the gods might send you crazy dreams or cause you to say odd things while sleepwalking. I had a student who told me his friend's wife had this happen and she "had to" become a spirit medium. You don't really get a choice.

A blow for equality!

I will say, though, that on Sunday, the whole thing felt quite weird. The woman below, along with a man and two other women, ran further into the water while hissing, screaming and laughing. I was in there with them but for some reason not taking photos - it all happened very quickly, don't ask me why - they started shouting as though they were counting down, or about to orgasm in a hilariously parodic way, or something - "ahhh, ahh, AAAHH!" as a large wave rolled in, hit me in the back and them in the chests, and then they whirled around and ran back up to the idol, which was then brought to the sea - a sign that that god was there, or a communication of his (or her) will.

As that happened, in the seconds before and just as the wave hit my back, I couldn't see anything, just white, as well as the three women in the water. Nothing else. Then it was like something big rushed past with the wave. I am pretty sure I laughed or screamed - my friend said all he heard me say was "HOLY SHIT!" and didn't see anything else out of the ordinary. Then suddenly I was fine again and fanning myself, trying to get my head back together.

No, I do not believe I was temporarily possessed by any god.

I do believe it is quite likely that I, too, was overstimulated. The drumming, the gongs, the incense, the people completely flipping out in a trance right next to me, the waves, the heat, the sun, the dust, the firecrackers - it is possible, likely even, that I was almost overtaken by it and for the first time ever, for a few seconds, was entranced, the way a hypnotist might entrance a person or the way people in crowds full of fervor (religious or not) will lose themselves. Then my mind - which doesn't accept the existence of spirits or gods and which is terrified of being entranced - fought back and restored me to a normal state.

That's a normal, human psychology based way of looking at it, and it makes the most sense. After thinking about it - and I've thought about it a lot over the past two days - that's what I believe happened.

I wish I could say more, but it was literally maybe two or three seconds, and I remember the feeling that my brain was all over the place immediately after far better than what happened in those three seconds themselves.
      

Finally, I'm fascinated by spirit mediums because it presents a more hardcore, somewhat scary, even a little terrifying, aspect of folk Daoism. I'm not religious but I am interested in religion, and in my view, the most interesting religions, as well as the ones that are the most organic and culturally ingrained, are the ones that are a bit scary. It reminds the believers that gods are scary and fickle beings (assuming one believes they exist), that bad things happen, that life isn't all love, forgiveness, absolution and pearly gates.

As I've said, I appreciate folk Daoism because it is just as cultural as it is religious. People don't really care if you believe (although some southerners will accuse northern Taiwanese of "not really believing" - at least one person said that last weekend), you can still participate on a cultural level. Even if it's not your culture, you're still welcome. A part of that is the frightening side of things.

So while santaizi (the three child prince gods who dance to techno music) are great, and the idols are cool, and we all love dragon and lion dances, and everyone loves beautiful Guanyin, I tend to be drawn to the more hardcore, darker elements (I don't think that'd be true if I actually believed, though) - the ones that hearken back to the idea of shamans, magic, ghosts, demons, sacrifices and blood. Things that tend to be ignored or avoided in our everyday life.

It's a dose of something a bit dark in an otherwise pretty light life - a comfortable apartment in Taipei, a job that is basically an office job without being an actual office job, a cute cat, a wonderful husband. Looking at the lives of others - the clean MRT, the air conditioning, the sanitized office life, the cafes and department stores - sometimes you get a taste for something a little gritty. A touch of bitter after all that white chocolate.

You don't see many of these guys in Taipei (although you see some) - I love Taipei, but sometimes it feels so developed, so genteel, that they've lost their connection to so much of the gritty reality of life, and of folk belief. I'm planning to stay in Taipei, but this is why I head south as frequently as I can manage.


Plus, I grew up going to church. Didn't leave a lasting impression on me. My parents used to say that the point of church was to affirm your faith and to stick to something, not to necessarily have a revelatory experience or to commune with the divine every Sunday. That you may not feel it in your heart or head, but if you do it long enough you'll feel it in your bones.

I disagree - although I can understand feeling it "in your bones" from a cultural standpoint, if this is what your culture does - I never felt like it meant anything. Prayers that seemed to float off to nothing, songs that didn't move me, sermons that were occasionally interesting from a moral perspective but never a spiritual one, trying to reconcile faith with faith-based sexism (not a problem with my parents' church but a problem in a more general sense with organized religion) - it all felt quite saccharine, a little fluffy. What happened on the beach at Donggang was not saccharine and not fluffy, it was hardcore. It was like taking out all the pretty music and prayer and leaving only the especially gory crucifix, which is really the most grounding aspect of Christianity in my view, despite being a nonbeliever.


But this - this - left an impression. There was feeling in this, even if I don't share the particular belief that the feeling stems from. Like the scarier Hindu gods (Kali, Shiva, Agni, Indra) and demons, like the shamans that still exist in The Philippines and Korea (Korea!), the harvest festivals of the Taiwanese aborigines, the fire-dancing spirit mediums of southern India, the long, hard pilgrimages people take - that's hardcore, that's got feeling, that's something that piques my interest.



It may look showy, but it's not a show. Whether or not you believe these guys are possessed by gods, their entrancement is real. Their wounds are real and their belief is real. They are not Frozen Chosen - they're fierce.

And even Atheist Me can admire that.



So how do they know when Qian Sui Ye comes in?

Well, I don't know (I tried to ask, but nobody could really tell me). They just...know. Clearly someone is in charge of watching for the signs - I think when a specific spirit medium feels that he's come in, he/she does something or says something that lets others know.

Then, drums are sounded, gongs are gonged, balloons are released, people cheer, and there's a feeling of joy that washes over the beach. The other spirit mediums wrap up - it all ends pretty quickly, too - and the procession from the beach begins. I can't tell you where it goes - pretty much every road between the beach, Zhongshan Rd. and Donglong Temple is packed with people.


More later on what you can see after 千歲爺 arrives - for now, enjoy some photos: