Notes on that Big Kylo Energy in Taipei

I absolutely borrowed the idea for using this movie still from someone else, but my sentiments are exactly the same. Very little about yesterday was a surprise to me, but it still hurts when the city you call home decides that the least qualified candidate, who worships his Mass Murder Grandpa and Even Mass Murderier Great Grandpa, should be mayor. 

I respect the democratic process and all, the people have spoken. I happen to disagree with their choice -- I'm really not a fan of Mass Murder Grandpa -- but hey, that's democracy. The losers lost with grace, lowering the voting age should have passed but didn't, and I'm not feeling great about it today.

You won't get any super original takes here: I don't comment as much on elections anymore because there are people out there (like Courtney Donovan Smith and Nathan Batto) who do a better job. All I have are some notes.

First, more people voted to lower the voting age than voted against it, but it still didn't have enough overall "yes" votes to pass. I happen to think that this isn't just the KMT perfunctorily 'agreeing' with the DPP to take the wind out of their electoral issue sails. It's very difficult to change things when voting is already skewed in favor of older people, and those older people very much have an unjustified "kids these days!" view. Plus, they know perfectly well that those "kids" mostly won't vote for the conservative hucksters they want in office. Progressives have shown they can sweep individual elections, but systemic change is far more difficult to implement. 

On the reasons why the vote broke down as it did, the best take I've found is Wen-ti Sung's on Twitter. Here's a long snippet, organized into paragraphs:

DPP main progressive agenda this electoral cycle is lowering voting age to 18, hoping to use it to paint rival KMT as conservative boomers.

But this got neutralized politically, 'coz this time KMT actually agrees, ('coz KMT didn't want to make it a political cleavage issue & lose young voters for nothing). DPP then defaults back to its TW nationalism card. But it faces diminishing utility, as it's been DPP's main weapon in 2014, 2016, and 2020. Fourth time is not the charm. DPP then tries intense negative campaigning against the opposition (to be sure KMT does a lot of negative campaigning, too). This includes DPP's repeat questioning of 2 opposition mayor candidates' past records, e.g. alleged misuse of government research grants, misappropriation of parliamentary assistants' overtime pay, etc.

The logic is simple: If you can't win on your own merits, then try to disqualify/discredit your opponents, so you win by default. That playbook backfired -- it's never a good look to see ruling party (Establishment) to play the tired mudslinging game.

It heightens voter fatigue. For weeks on end that's all the voters hear about. That dilutes DPP's  agenda, and it became unclear what the DPP stands for beyond non-stop dirt, day in and day out, and a chaotic status quo of petty politics.

Again, DPP and KMT are both at fault for non-stop negative campaigning this year. But voters rightfully judge the ruling party DPP by higher standards, because of what Spiderman said: "with greater power comes greater responsibility."

Frustrated voters are not going to be pro status-quo, pro-incumbent voters. This means low voter turnout on DPP's side, whereas the hungry KMT voters, after 6 years in the wilderness, couldn't wait to show up on voting day to win one back.

Election results in many cities suggest KMT votes turn out in slightly above average levels, while DPP significantly underperforms its baseline in many cities. (still awaiting final official data of course)

This is not about China, however. If it's about Chinese economic coercion, then since 1) a lot of it is targeted at Taiwanese agricultural produce, and 2) Southern Taiwan is the agricultural hub, one would expect the South to swing the hardest against the DPP, no? But that is not the case. Southern Taiwan is the DPP's only stronghold left this weekend. So DPP's crushing defeat is not about China, but about DPP's own failure to set a positive agenda and maintain party unity.  Self-inflicted wound.

Just a little side-note before we continue: solid, rational thinking like this from a Taiwanese and Taiwan-based expert should be more prevalent in international media. Perhaps y'all can stop interviewing just the same three white folks and start including voices like these? The ideas are more original, analysis better, and it's a fully-informed Taiwanese perspective. All those US-based folks seem to get issues like Taiwan/China exactly backwards, constantly, without taking into account, let alone respecting, the choices Taiwan is making for itself with the same information about China.

More people like Sung and less...whomever, please.

What disappoints me the most isn't that popular incumbents won re-election (Hou in New Taipei and Lu in Taichung). We knew that would happen. I'm not sure how good of a job Lu's done, but she doesn't seem to have performed terribly, either. Hou is extremely popular in New Taipei, and Lin Chia-long isn't even that popular within the DPP (I'm not a huge fan -- he's not the worst, but he's not the best). But I do wonder exactly what Hou has done for New Taipei, because I leave Taipei proper often and haven't really seen any improvements in the big donut. Am I wrong here, or is he mostly popular as a personality? Because I don't see that he's a particularly good mayor. 

Pan-greens like to talk about Hou as the guy responsible for the death of Nylon Deng. And I do indeed think he has some culpability: he was "just following orders", sure, but he had the capacity even then to know right from wrong, surely he had the ability to know that Deng was a 'you'll never take me alive' type of person, and he chose to do the wrong thing. I don't think he should be expelled from society or anything like that, but I also don't think he should be mayor of a major city. 

I also agree with Sung -- this is about not just local issues but the DPP's poor campaigning, and definitively not about China  -- because the DPP incumbent who came closest to losing was Tainan's Huang, and he's not everyone's favorite within the DPP. Re-electing him on a slim margin (for Tainan) is much more likely to be dissatisfaction with the DPP generally, because if there is any city in Taiwan that doesn't f***k with the KMT or pro-China rhetoric, it's Tainan.

I'd like to move there, actually. Or Kaohsiung. I get along well with southerners, and am not looking forward to four years of whatever the Chiang machine is bringing to Taipei.

That brings me back to the newly-elected Kylo Re---I mean Chiang Wan-an. People say voting, especially in mid-terms, is based more on identity and family tradition than whether the candidate is actually good. (In national elections this also plays a role but I think young people sick of Grandpa's bullshit opinions might be a bit more serious about not voting for the Appease China party).

I know more than one person who received multiple messages from their deep blue family about how they must vote KMT. Because they're my friends and I happen to get along with people who lean green well (again, not a fan of Mass Murder Grandpa, but very much a fan of Taiwan), I know they didn't necessarily listen. But surely, some adult offspring did.

And Donovan (linked above) is correct that Chiang had a much bigger get-out-the-vote machine. I heard rumors among local friends that the DPP had "sacrificed" Chen when it became clear he was unlikely to win. I'm not sure about that, but certainly all the noise trucks and hype men annoying me across Taipei were KMT. The DPP left me blissfully in peace. You'd think that would count for something -- Mayor No-Trucks seems like a fantastic pick, and that's not sarcasm -- but apparently not. 

What truly, deeply bothers me, however, is that none of this seems to have much at all to do with competence or qualifications. I don't think Hou is the worst mayor, but he's not the best. Chiang has legislative experience, but he's easily the least qualified candidate. Or as Nathan Batto put it: 

Chen did briefly make an argument that I think he should have hammered more throughout the campaign. Chiang Wan-an, he said, looks new, shiny, and different, but the people behind him are the same old KMT party hacks who have disappointed you again and again.

When I switched over to Chiang’s rally, he was enthusiastically making Chen’s point. The lineup of speakers included former mayor Hau Lung-pin, former deputy mayor Ou Chin-teh, former New Taipei and Kaohsiung deputy mayor Lee Si-chuan, former Taipei Education Bureau chief (and current legislator) Lin I-hua, the head of the KMT legislative caucus Tseng Ming-tsung, Chiang himself, Chiang’s wife, and KMT party chair Eric Chu. That’s a whole slew of old KMT warhorses who don’t exactly exude new ideas.

I know that I can't say much about what the people chose. I don't even get to vote! But I can't help but think they chose something that seemed like a statement, seemed like something new, a young, fresh guy. What they really chose is same-old-same-old, with the same (literally) old hacks informing the same-old "good for the Boss Class" ideas. Plus, an idolized Mass Murder Grandpa. The KMT tends to win not just because they might have a real edge in local elections, but because they've never truly been held accountable in Taiwan for the horrors they perpetrated. And that's in part because again, voting is skewed in favor of old folks, and some of those old folks either weren't affected by those horrors, purposely ignored them, or are actively culpable for decades of oppression.

And again, changing that requires systemic shifts, which are difficult to pull off because it's not one party campaigning for and the other against, but a whole system of people who don't want the "wrong" guy elected -- and who want to control their grandkids and are increasingly pushing against their own irrelevance. 

Some grandkids push against this, some don't, but ultimately the system is skewed and it fights to remain so.

Let's end on a hopeful note. I'll soon be writing about one other thing I noticed this year: multiple friends who have no Taiwanese ancestry but became Taiwanese, who voted, mostly for the first time, in this election. The number of people I know personally who've managed this is fewer than ten, but this is the first year that it's not zero, or perhaps one. 

That's a tiny change. Miniscule. Makes no difference to the current environment. But I'm choosing to see a single rivulet as evidence of a coming shift. Not "foreigners en masse becoming Taiwanese and voting", but the Taiwanese electorate continuing to move away from the past and toward a more open and more diverse future. 

It's not much, but it's all I've got and I will cling to it. 

How the Tainan Museum of Archaeology challenged my approach to criticism

As you approach the Museum of Archaeology in Tainan Science Park, you might not notice its dark exterior of stacked bricks.  This unassumingly natural edifice almost seems to rise out of the grasses, bushes and flowers around it, as though they are part of it and it of them. Even the paved areas have different textures of stone, with the main entrance at the end of a long outdoor passage that cuts open at various intervals, as though giving you a glimpse of the world here, and here, and there.  Throughout the exterior, more modern elements in metal and glass bring the building into the future. 

The easy symbolism here is "melding the ancient and modern", but I think that's too simplistic. The dark, low stacked stone of the exterior recalls Rukai Indigenous stacked-slate housebuilding techniques. The cuts in the entrance hall remind you that we only view moments in history as a cutting-in, and must use our imaginations to fill in the details. 

Once inside, natural wood benches and a large atrium allow families to keep children occupied while someone stands in line for tickets. As you ascend the escalators, an interior side of the facade comes into view: the Rukai slate-house colors are still there, but now they're designed as geological layers, complete with replica fossils that come into view as you rise. 



The Archaeology Museum took quite awhile to build, having been first conceived when priceless finds were discovered when developing the science park, from Indigenous settlements dating back thousands of years. (There are some shards of modern pottery and even "figurines of foreigners" from the Dutch era, too). 

Tainan has built on its reputation as a historical and cultural capital with its Taiwan-focused museums: the Tainan Fine Art Museum, housed in two buildings, one vintage and one modern; the National Museum of Taiwan History which offers a bracing definition of "who is Taiwanese" alongside a building-size timeline of the country's history with (mostly replica) artifacts; and the Museum of Archaeology, understated and elegant, displaying the real deal -- including treasures like a carved deer antler knife handle, centuries-old dice, and millenia-old pottery, tools and jewelry. 

There is more to love about this museum, despite its distance from the city center -- there's probably a bus, but I recommend a car to get there. We went with a local friend. But first, I want to talk about a particular effect it had on me.



It's no secret that I'm not a big fan of the National Palace Museum. Sometimes when subjugationists sneer that if Taiwan wants to be independent so much, why doesn't it just give back all the treasures they carted over from China?

I usually retort: "Sure, you can have your junk back. Guaranteed freedom matter more."

I don't really mean this -- well, I would be in favor of sending most of it back across the strait, but I don't get a say. Regardless, that was never a serious proposition. Rather, I know perfectly well that it's not "junk". It's a museum in an ugly building full of priceless foreign artifacts, displayed in the most unengaging manner possible -- bland rooms of vases and scrolls, with very little context offered to tell you why each one matters in its own way. You are supposed to gape at it and agree that it matters, without getting a real feel for anything. (Some items, like the carved ivory or the colorful porcelains of the Empress Dowager Cixi do indeed stand out on their own). 

I tell visitors that it's worth going if you are specifically interested in Chinese history, but you won't learn much about Taiwan beyond a better understanding of all the loot the retreating ROC hauled over here. 

Otherwise, though, it's just kind of there, in its ugly building, expecting your admiration and thinking it owes you not one jot of engagement that you don't bring to the visit yourself. A shrine to a foreign country, a lost war, an enforced identity that couldn't even be enforced very well once Taiwanese people were actually given a say.

In other words, it's easy to take a big ol' dump on the National Palace Museum. Criticism is easy. "This thing sucks!" "I don't like that!" "Most. Uninsightful. Song-Ming Blue and White Porcelain Display. Ever!" I could do that all day. 

What's harder is offering a positive alternative: try this place instead. This is cool. This is a hidden gem. This truly captures a tiny piece of the soul of Taiwan. This other museum is small but really captures a poignant moment of Taiwanese history. 

The Tainan and Taipei Fine Arts Museums are just such museums. Do not miss the exhibit of vintage Taiwanese paintings from the Japanese era, including the original Dihua Street market scene by Kuo Hseuh-hu (郭雪湖), ending in two weeks. The Taipei Museum of Contemporary Art too, but recent scandals have soured me on it a tad. The Shunye Museum of Formosan Aborigines is across the street from the National Palace Museum and is a more edifying visit if you are actually interested in Taiwan. The Nylon Deng Memorial Museum deserves to be in this list, though it's difficult to access in English. The 228 Museum, the National Prehistory Museum (temporarily closed for renovation), Jingmei Human Rights Museum and Green Island's White Terror Memorial Park and so many more -- too many, in fact, to list -- not only offer deeper, more intimate and more local understandings of Taiwan. 

And that's just the short list. 

All of these museums utilize design concepts to offer engaging museums with experiences beyond we built this Chinese-lookin' cement thing and put all our stuff in it, people will come because of its obviously superior cultural refinement. Even the museums that were once prisons have options to discuss what you are seeing with a former inmate who'd been imprisoned there.

But again, it's easy to criticize that old dinosaur up in Shilin.

Instead, let the design elements of places like the Tainan Museum of Archaeology wash over you and perhaps spur you to think a little more deeply about the subtler elements. 

Coming here helped me remember: it's easy to criticize. It's easy to say the National Palace Museum pushes a (mostly fabricated) narrative of Chinese history "preserved" by "free China" in Taiwan.



It's difficult to offer a positive alternative. It's even harder to offer that alternative simply, for its own sake, without a specific agenda. Or rather, if there is an agenda, it's simply to get more people to go to museums about Taiwan when they visit Taiwan. 

There's a lot to like about the place: when you enter, one of the first things you come across is a timeline of who exactly lived in this part of Tainan when. 

Ya think the vast majority of Taiwanese history is Han? Think again, mofos:



Some objects (which may be replicas) are even presented in ways that show how archaeological digs actually look -- there's an entire glass-floored room where you can walk over what would be the roped-off grid on a dig. I have a friend who's an archaeologist and I came away with a fresh appreciation for how she could look at, say, a specific shape of stone and identify it as a tool rather than just an interesting rock. One floor has dioramas -- along with real artifacts found in places that might have hosted scenes like these -- of how the people who used these items lived. You access each floor by going down a gentle ramp, as though you're descending through layers of the earth. The floors themselves are often made of materials meant to mimic a semi-natural, semi-industrial look. It is in a science park, after all, and the metal beams holding up all that glass on the way to the top remind visitors of that.

As you do, square windows offer odd light from a bright yellow courtyard. They're all at different heights and sizes, seemingly sprinkled down the hall. The effect is once again of peeking through at different levels of visibility, the way a reconstructed pot or a carved knife-handle might allow you to have a peek through a tiny window about lives lived in the distant past. 




The courtyard itself is where all these windows converge, sunny-hued in even the cloudiest of weather. A single bench, a single beautiful tree, and several stories of viewpoints peering down at balanced but irregular intervals.

It's small and difficult to get to, but this is a museum worth visiting. This is a museum that incorporates its mission into its very structure, which attempts to reach out and engage you. This is a museum about Taiwan. 

So what did I learn? Don't dwell so much on what is wrong -- though you can, if it's merited. Spend perhaps even a little of that time talking about what is right.

My Favorite Tainan Cafes

The interior of Tin Drum 

Sometimes, I just don't feel like writing about politics, media or social issues -- I just want to talk about all the great things in Taiwan. (But if you want a bit of media fun, see if you can make it through this video -- I can't decide if the best part is Eric Chu acting like he actually thinks he's cool, or Wayne Chiang clearly knowing this is cringe-tastic but going along with it).

This is one of those times. I'm just not feelin' it news-wise, so let's talk culture. I've offered rundowns of my favorite Taipei cafes before, but a combination of work and personal travel has taken me south a lot this year. For this reason, despite not living in Tainan, I've been able to put together a list of Tainan cafes I like, most of which are not on, say, the Tripadvisor algorithm-generated list (though some of those, such as Zhengxing Cafe and Lure, also look quite good. Others I wonder about. A branch of Louisa? Louisa is fine, but hardly unique.)

If you live in Tainan, I doubt my choices will surprise you. If you don't, maybe you'll get a few new ideas for where to hang out! These aren't ranked in any particular order, so where they appear on the list isn't a reflection of how much I like them. 

Since most cafes in Tainan seem to have shorter hours and close much earlier than their Taipei counterparts, in the future I'll do a post about where to hang out after 7pm if you're not into loud bars. There are a few places I want to try before I make that post, though, so you'll have to wait.

Cafe Kokoni

This quintessential Taiwanese hipster cafe is just a short walk from Chihkan Tower. Set it an old house with pretty vintage floor tile which is impressively intact. They're well-known for their desserts, which are indeed quite good. They also have food, as well as selling a few small items (think pins, washi tape). The only downside is their 7pm closing time, but if you want a centrally-located vintage-feel cafe, you can't go wrong.

镹 (jiu) Cafe & Dessert 

Jiu is located at the southern end of Xinmei Street, not far from Wudao Cafe (which I haven't included here because they're more of a restaurant). Like Kokoni, they have short operating hours and aren't open early in the week. They're not in an old house, but they have two great things going for them: fantastic desserts, especially the chocolate banana cake, and pets. They have at least two dogs and two cats, most of whom are friendly to varying degrees (there's one dog who gets scared if you make eye contact). 

Narrow Door

Narrow Door is one of the most 'famous' cafes in Tainan, named such because you have to squeeze through a tiny alley -- really just a crack between buildings -- to get to the entrance of this cafe in an old mansion on Nanmen Street, directly across from the Confucius Temple. (You can also enter from the other end of the alley which is a little wider but hard to find). They don't have food beyond light sweets, but there is a range of decaffeinated drinks. They normally close at 8:30pm but have shorter hours due to the pandemic. Vintage furniture in the vintage space -- especially the lamps -- gives this place a fun old-school vibe. 

Be aware that their only restroom is a squat-style.

La Belle Maison

Run by a Frenchman in the old village of Anping, La Belle Maison is in a lovely Art Deco (specifically Streamline) mansion, and have hands-down the best desserts in Tainan. The tiramisu is the size of a baby's head! They also have brunch foods and croissants, which are excellent. They're only open until 4:30pm, so this is a place to go for brunch more than a cafe to hang out at, and on weekends you might want to reserve. Try to get a seat in the gorgeous sunroom in the back, and see if you can spot the hidden bust of Chiang Kai-shek among the other vintage and antique items.

Follow Coffee (花樓咖啡)

Located next to the Water Fairy Market near the intersection of Minquan and Hai'an Roads, this funky cafe has loads of vintage charm, and a great place to get out of the heat midday -- though generally Hai'an Road isn't at its peak in the middle of the day anyway. Note the WWII-era map and the fact that right outside the window is a huge poster for some KMT candidate, smiling at a bunch of Tainan hipsters who almost certainly won't vote for them.

Cafe Bar

This tiny place on Guohua Street (Section 3 #211) run by an interesting guy is one of my favorite chill-out spots in Tainan. It's in an old one-story house and is semi-outdoors, which is fantastic if it's a beautiful day (or night). They only really have coffee and tea, but the coffee is spectacular. So good that they have a perfect 5-star rating even with hundreds of reviews. They open at 9:30 if you need some coffee before getting out into the city -- that's early by my standards -- and stay open until about 10pm, so they're great for an evening chill-out, too. They're about equidistant from Chihkan Tower and Hai'an Road, right around the corner from Tsai Family brown rice wangui (碗粿, savory rice pudding) which makes a good breakfast. They're also not far from 176 Lab, which is basically a massive antique/vintage warehouse that is absolutely worth checking out.

Tainan Fine Art Museum Cafe (Building 1)

Yes, I'm putting a museum cafe on my list. But I promise, you'll love this one. You do have to pay admission to the museum to go, but it's worth it: that ticket will also allow you to explore the museum as well as the 2nd building down the road. The cafe is in the part of the museum that is housed in the Japanese-era police station, and a sign at the entrance offers the most delicious Taiwan-style "fuck you" to authoritarianism that you'll be glad you came. You see, the cafe is housed in what used to be a detention room during eras when political prisoners were common, so "detention" did not necessarily mean you'd done anything wrong. So what did Tainan do when they wanted to preserve the Art Deco architecture of the beautiful old police station, remembering but not lionizing the past? They turned it into a cafe, attached to an art museum specifically dedicated to local fine arts. Another big draw is the outdoor courtyard, which offers a good vantage point to enjoy the Art Deco facade as well as a small garden around a banyan tree. 

The museum is not only near the Confucius Temple, but also Zexian Monastery, an overlooked little gem with welcoming nuns and a lovely courtyard.

A Room

A Room is a very cool book-themed cafe in an old house, with drinks and desserts in a chill atmosphere. They have some outdoor seating, and are in a part of town where not a lot else is going on -- quite a distance from anywhere a tourist might regularly go. But, they're not far from some Japanese dormitory buildings (now a historical landmark), an old 'fort' -- some Qing-era fortifications at least -- another Japanese-era building with signs still intact which now sells scallion pancake (府東街147號蔥油餅) and one of Tainan's city gates (the East Gate or Welcome Spring Gate 東門／迎春門). The area also has a Western-style restaurant in an old house (never tried, so I don't know it is) and a few other dessert shops and cafes, such as Murmur (which also has food) and East Town, which I haven't tried but want to. So, in theory, you could make a half day of it. It's hard to get a taxi in this part of town, but there are buses which tend to get very full at peak hours.

Jiajia 加加

Run by Japanese and Taiwanese co-proprietors, this small cafe in an old house a short walk from Sun Hong Ho, Floating and Tin Drum puts an emphasis on good coffee -- they're wild about offering up a fantastic product. They'll make recommendations based on the sort of flavor you want (eg. more floral, nutty or sour) and they sell beans to go. Although I didn't try any food or desserts here, everything looks fabulous.

Sun Hong Ho 順風號

No Tainan cafe listing would be complete without Sun Hong Ho, in a perfectly-restored house east of the Confucius Temple (in fact, in these winding lanes you'll also find a few more cafes on my list, including Tin Drum and Drifting, and it's a beautiful area to walk through, full of vintage architecture). I'm not exactly sure of the history here but either the building or the proprietors were related to the electric fan business in the past, but the old residence is now a cafe with an emphasis on desserts. They also have three adorable shiba inus who are friendly, but will bark at you as you enter. They don't take reservations and do get busy, so I recommend arriving early. They're open for brunch on weekends, and make a good quiche in addition to desserts. The dogs (Lili, Lulu and Lele) are only allowed on the 1st floor, but the most beautiful decoration is on the 2nd.

Drifting 浮游

You might be noticing a pattern here -- unlike Taipei cafes, Tainan cafes close on the early side. The same is true of Drifting, but if you're around during the day, it's a funky little place that will get you out of the southern Taiwanese sun. They have a friendly dog who will hang out with you if you take the table near the couch, and have seats in several rooms in an old building. The menu is limited but the coffee is great, and it's about equidistant from the Taiwan Fu City God Temple (the one east of the Confucius Temple, not the one near the North District) and Lady Linshui Temple. It's in the same warren of lanes as Sun Hong Ho and Tin Drum. It's also walkable to a few interesting spots: a couple of bars I haven't tried out yet like Tipsy & Co, Algae Bar, Teabeer and Wanchang (but all of which seem worth a look), the Liu Rui-shan house (劉瑞山古厝, now the Liu Rui-shan church), which is an old Japanese building painted blue with yellow window grilles, and the Japanese-era Tainan County Governor's Mansion. It's also a short walk from Old House 1933 (老厝一九三三) which I've been itching to try -- they serve old-school Taiwanese barbecue in, well, an old house. There's also a Cuban restaurant practically next door. Finally, the very expensive but extremely hip Moss Archives shop is not far away.

Tin Drum 錫鼓

This is one of the most beautifully-preserved Japanese-style houses I've ever had the good fortune of enjoying. Tin Drum also closes early, but you'll be happy you made the trek to sit in such a perfectly-preserved wonder. Located in the same lane as Sun Hong Ho, Tin Drum has a peaceful courtyard, with seats indoors. Take off your shoes, climb on the rock and take a seat on the tatami. The woodwork is so delicate I was afraid I'd break it just by looking at it. It's so picturesque that people come here just to take Instagram shots in the courtyard. They have a full menu, and are especially well-known for their waffles. They're cooked just right, with a bit of crunch on the outside giving way to a softly chewy center. 

Pinpeng 品蓬 

Just off the shopping street that starts at the old 'chastity arch' across from the Confucius Temple, there's a lane that leads to a small temple with a huge banyan covered in wishing plaques.  (There is more than one such arch in Tainan, by the way, but the other is hidden in some back lanes, not visible from a main road). Next to that temple is Pinpeng, which fortunately has later hours than most -- they're open until 10pm. The outside is a typical old house, so well-hidden by the banyan that you might miss it. The inside is surprisingly cavernous and modern, and a thoroughly enjoyable place to relax.

Cheer For

You're probably wondering why I'd pick a cafe in Blueprint Creative Park, attached to a shop, as a "favorite cafe" -- to be honest, they're not specifically a special cafe in and of themselves. You can get standard drinks here, and the indoor sitting area is fine (great, even, if you've just walked a long way to get down to Blueprint and it's a hot day). But I like this place because it's a reliable spot in an area without many options, and if it's a pleasant day and you can score a table outside, especially on a busy day, it's excellent for people-watching. The last time we sat outside here, we watched someone set up a stall selling cottage core dresses and cardigans, attracting a stream of young Millenials and Zoomers checking out ruffled floral-print prairie dresses that were a decade out of style when I was young. It was wonderful. 

Hayashi Department Store Cafe

This is another one you might wonder about, but I have my reasons. The summer before last we ended up in Tainan on the hottest day of the year. It was just brutal. We were near Hayashi and decided to look around inside, but after we were done, we still couldn't face the hellfire outside (and Tainan was actually cooler than Taipei that day)! So we went up to the cafe, and I had a refreshing pot of iced honey-scented black tea. Not tea with honey, but tea leaves bred to smell of honey, which are an underappreciated specialty of Nantou if you ask me. No one, even people we know in the US who have received way too many Taiwanese tea gifts from us, has ever failed to comment on how remarkably good it is. The honey tea alone -- and the fact that it's open later than your average cafe -- makes it worth a visit. 

Belonginn 

This cafe on Shennong Street -- a tourist hotspot, especially at night -- has the distinct advantages of not only being in a popular area, but also being open late. Usually, in Tainan, if you want to just chill out past 5-7pm, you have to find a quiet bar because there won't be many cafe options that aren't chains. I always seem to turn up here long after my ancient body can handle any more caffeine for the day, but the desserts are quite good (they don't have much in the way of actual food) and the flavored sparkling water drinks are good quality. 

Fat Cat Story 

We haven't actually been to Fat Cat Story since they moved (they had been across the street), but this cafe has a reasonable selection of drinks and desserts, and cats! They're at the quieter end of Shennong Street, on the other side of Kangle, but they close early. When we were last there they also sold an array of cat-themed items, but I'm not sure if that's still the case. 

Harbour Fantasy 南方安逸

Very close to Fat Cat Story, Harbour Fantasy isn't exactly a cafe, it's more of a vegan Southeast Asian restaurant with home-style food and a great beer selection. But I'm including them here because they have lots of seating in a cool old house, they're open later than your average cafe and they are totally cool with you just getting some beer and hanging out -- not too unlike a cafe, though I don't think they actually serve coffee. In fact, they're just chill in general, and they have an outdoor table where you can sit on pleasant nights (but wear mosquito repellent, trust me). 

Pictures at a Closed Exhibition

On a personal note, if it seems I haven't been giving Lao Ren Cha as much attention as before -- that is correct. I'm consumed with a couple of bigger projects that take a lot of time and attention, but I'm not willing to talk about those now. And when it comes to current affairs, Nathan Batto and Donovan Smith have covered the KMT chair election and incoherent protesting (the signs literally say "Protesting!") sufficiently; I have nothing to add. I don't even want to touch the head-scratching "Taiwan Agreement", which of course does not exist. 

Instead, I want to talk about culture. Specifically, share some photographs from a now-closed exhibition at the Tainan Fine Arts Museum, which has two buildings: the Art Deco police station across the street from the Confucius Temple, and a modern, angular building just to the east of it. For visitors, the shop is in Building 2 (the new one) and a cafe which includes outdoor seating in the courtyard in Building 1 (the police station).

That the Japanese colonial era police station (itself a work of architectural beauty) later used by the KMT colonial dictatorship and their jackboot thugs, is now an art space dedicated to Taiwanese artistic expression and history is itself a type of art, I must say. To then take that space and fill it with Taiwanese temple art the same way European museums are chock full o' Jesus is another subversive and anti-colonial act: no colonial power, from the Qing to the Japanese to the KMT, has considered Taiwanese temple art, well, art.

Paying Tribute to the Gods: The Art of Folk Belief closed months ago, but its core purpose continues to influence my thinking -- the exhibit explored the intersections of traditional religious art in Taiwan with modern society, and where design meant to facilitate worship or prayer intersects with art and design. 

The exhibition book makes some interesting points: that in Taiwan art museums shy away from including obliquely religious art from Taiwan, because that's for temples, not museums: but why should they be? In Europe the museums are packed -- packed -- with religious art. Why should the notion that religious art can still be art apply to Europe but not Taiwan? It also notes that as Taiwan was not a center of 'high culture' during either the Qing or Japanese colonial eras, and neither sought to make it so. Although artists still emerged as one might expect, many artistically inclined people expressed themselves through trade or craft training, and many of these found opportunities to offer these expressions through temple art. 

Which, when you think about it, isn't all that different from pre-modern Europe.

Finally, the exhibition notes point out that temple festivals and parades produced art themselves, through flags, banners, palanquins, paper talismans and performances (the Eight Generals, tall gods), which rendered this 'temple art' into a normal part of people's daily lives, and which offered opportunities to incorporate creative design ideas.

The exhibit aimed to express this by showing traditional art -- antique painted door gods, three-dimensional gold embroidered banners, old talismans -- with modern interpretations of it. These include paintings and multimedia canvases from different eras, a light, film and text installation, sculpture works and more.

                    

I won't bother trying to describe them to you, rather, take a look at the pictures below and enjoy these works on your own terms. If you'd like to know the creator of any given work, let me know in the comments and I'll try to look it up in the exhibition book. 

This also got me thinking about Taiwanese vs. Chinese culture in general. I still hear the refrain that Taiwan and China "have the same culture", "largely share a culture" or "have the same language" and "cultural touchstones". It's difficult to say there's no truth whatsoever in this, but it's a deliberate and problematic oversimplification.

It's problematic in that it serves the purpose of tying Taiwan closer to China, perhaps closer than it rightfully ought to be. This argument is rarely, if ever, stated as a neutral observation. The intention is almost always to push the idea that Taiwan is connected to China and cannot escape that, which then opens the door to preposterous arguments that Taiwanese should entertain China's opinion about their country as having the same validity (or almost the same) as their own.

              

There are easy defenses to this: Taiwanese whose families came over from China hundreds of years ago did bring their traditions with them, but they've evolved so much that they're now unique to Taiwan. But those traditions came from a specific part of Fujian, they didn't represent China as a whole. Good examples of this include the Green Lion and the Eight Generals: both cultural touchstones specific to the part of Fujian that most settlers came from which are now common in Taiwan, but non-existent in China.

          

To call them generally "Chinese" is to construct an idea of what it means to be "Chinese" to serve your own opinion (usually, with these types, that Taiwan is some part of China). Cultures are non-static, they all evolve. Taiwan has not meaningfully been a part of China since the 19th century, and even then China's control of Taiwan was incomplete and -- dare I say it -- half-assed. But even if it hadn't been, think of any country and imagine how its culture has changed since 1895. 

And, of course, Taiwan has been influenced by Indigenous, Japanese, Western and KMT diaspora cultures in ways that China has not, while developing its own history and identity. All the while, China was changing in an entirely different direction. 

But most importantly, in my mind, is that how one relates to their cultural touchstones is a big part of defining 'culture'. This isn't an original idea of course, but it bears a note here. Yes, China has temples just like Taiwan. Not as many, but they're there. But the way Taiwanese people relate to their temples, and how they express that through art, is an expression of culture as well. This isn't just true with religion, but everything. This is a somewhat ineffable concept, so I'll just say that every time I come across something that appears culturally 'Chinese' or 'Japanese' in Taiwan, I do find that the way people relate to it and incorporate it into their overall worldview is still uniquely Taiwanese. 

I attempted an example of this difficult-to-express observation, but it turned into something that could be its own post, so maybe I'll write about it another day. The short of it is that no, beyond some old links (much as the US, Canada and Australia have with Europe) and some aesthetics, I do not at all think that Taiwan and China have "the same culture". I've lived in both countries and honestly, it has been exactly that: the experience of living in two different cultures.

In fact, the exhibit itself is an example. China has temples too. Some are still open, some have been restored, at varying levels of quality ranging from "good" to "bathroom tiles". You can visit them, though they're no longer sites of community gathering. 

Would anyone, anywhere in China be allowed to take over an old police station to showcase works of art that offer modern interpretations of and relationships to traditional cultural and religious belief, in a blatant artistic act of anti-authoritarianism -- literally deconstructing authority -- that centers local narratives?

Doubt it. 

That, not dragons or temples or banners, is Taiwanese culture. 

So for now, enjoy some pictures.