Chiayi: Taiwan’s Underrated City

Through the years, I’ve written up accounts of my travels to different parts of Taiwan, though not every trip. But through all that, I had managed to spend 15 years in Taiwan making only the most cursory visit to Chiayi city. It’s just not a place I’d thought to spend much time. I was aware that there were things to do there, but the lack of local public transit in what is a reasonably-sized town and the attractions of places I know far better kept getting in the way.

I had an 'errand' to run, really more of an excuse to head to the city and poke around. Knowing my primary destination (the Museum of Old Taiwan Tiles) was small and would not take all day, I also picked out a few other things to do in Chiayi before meeting a friend for dinner in Taichung. I chose a weekend when I knew I’d have to be in Taichung on Sunday, so that my HSR tickets would be reimbursed.

The Chiayi Koji Pottery Museum appears to be permanently closed — a shame, as I had been able to enjoy such an excellent exhibit on it only a few weeks previously in Xuejia. However, I put the City God Temple, the Japanese-era prison, a Japanese residential area (now the “Hinoki Village”) and the Kagi Shinto shrine (now a cultural center, but the building is still intact) on my list. The train station is also worth a quick moment to admire.

In addition to the museum, I only made it to the City God Temple and the shrine; there just wasn't time for the prison and old residences, but it was a day well-spent and I now have reasons to return! 

I took the overcrowded but free bus from the HSR station, which is inconveniently far from town. Dropping my overnight bag in a locker at the train station as the regular left luggage counter was closed for lunch, I headed off. The museum is a short but somewhat unattractive walk from the train station. 

I didn't head that way, but I want to point out that near the train station, just behind the tracks, is a neighborhood called Fanzigou 番子溝 which translates literally to "Savage Ditch" -- I bet there's not much to see there now, but I suspect that's where the border ditch would have been between Indigenous and Han territory, perhaps not that long ago.

The Museum of Old Taiwan Tiles 臺灣花磚博物館

Recently, I’ve come to really appreciate the work of the Museum of Old Taiwan Tiles, which produces its own Taiwan-made Majolica-style tiles. The originals can be found on old farmhouses and mansions across the country (there are some good examples in my last travel post, about Xuejia). The museum/company not only saves tiles from old houses being demolished, but produces both factory-manufactured and hand-made tiles, as well as a variety of products using the tiles or their patterns. Although there are branch shops in both Taipei and Tainan, I resolved to visit the museum’s main location in Chiayi. 

I had a mission, too: I knew that they sold bathroom mirrors with tile borders, and I wanted one if I could get it in a custom size, to fit my space specifically. The Taipei store in Ximen’s Red House market assured me that the manager, Ms. Liou, would be able to help me with a custom order. 

I had Ms. Liou's Line, but figured that this would be a good excuse to check out the museum itself. Although she isn’t the founder (that would be James Hsu), she seemed involved enough that if I popped down there, she’d likely be around.

 

The Museum of Old Taiwan Tiles is small but very much worth a visit. Hundreds of vintage tiles are preserved in frames or in rooms furnished with vintage furniture in a lovely old building that was once a timber shop. 

You can touch the vintage tiles, but not buy them (everything for sale is new, but of very high quality — some machine-made and quite affordable, and some hand-painted and far pricier), and there are a few places to sit and just enjoy your surroundings. Many locals come to take posed photos with vintage backgrounds. A few tablets discreetly placed upstairs detail aspects of tile making or the history of decorative tiles in Taiwan; one is bilingual. One can really admire the commitment to preserving the original tiles from structures that have been torn down and incorporating them into the museum, as well as making affordable, newer and made-in-Taiwan versions available for sale. 

Fortunately, I did manage to meet Ms. Liou, and indeed discussing the specifications for my mirror didn’t take long as I already knew what size and tile pattern I wanted. It was an expensive purchase, but I think worthwhile to support the museum’s work. They would begin immediate work on my custom mirror, and I could expect to receive it at my door within a few weeks.

Some more photos:

Lunchtime!

From there, I headed up Minsheng Road towards the City God temple, stopping at Chiahe Turkey Rice 家禾火雞肉飯 for lunch. It’s not famous, but frankly almost any turkey rice place in Chiayi with decent Google reviews are going to be good. 

Another option would be to head back to the train station and walk up Xirong Street 西榮街 or Zhongzheng Road 中正路, stopping to admire the architecture of the Chiayi Pharmacy 嘉義藥局 on the way. I don't know the history of this place, but the Art Deco design is lovely. Then eat at the well-known Yanjing Turkey Rice 眼鏡火雞肉飯 (not sure why it's called Glasses Turkey Rice) before heading across town. I've been that way before, and it's a pleasant walk through atmospheric streets.

This is not the Chiayi Pharmacy, just another interesting old building I happened to photograph.

From my direction, I turned on Zhongshan Road towards the center of town. The traffic circle features a golden statue of a baseball player, a tribute to Chiayi’s place in Taiwanese baseball history. There are a few 'circles' on the map near here which also hide some interesting lanes and alleys; just have a nice wander around.

I did quickly come to appreciate Chiayi’s compactness on this walk. If you don’t drive in cities (and I try very hard not to), in a place like this you basically have to go on foot. Fortunately, you can make it from one end of town (the train station) to the other (the Shinto shrine at Chiayi park) in about 45 minutes of determined walking, with only one hill. 

Chiayi City God Temple 嘉義城隍廟

The City God temple is indeed quite beautiful, and situated easily in the most interesting part of town. This neighborhood is worth wandering around in; around the temple and the circle, there are several markets, market streets and streets full of stores specializing in various wares. Not surprisingly, between the circle and the temple is a long street full of shops that sell temple items — tall god heads, incense burners, palanquins, embroidery and more. There is some priceless Koji ceramic work in temple itself, but it’s hard to see as it’s well above human height and behind protective glass. It’s an atmospheric place to spend a few minutes, however, and as with most temples, there are several benches where you can sit and take a rest. 

Sadly, the priceless ceramic works are difficult to appreciate and photograph

This temple dates from the early 18th century, and is among the most well-known in the area. It was renovated in the Japanese and ROC eras. The aforementioned pottery sculptures of the glaze and type made by Ye Wang 葉王 as well as those from another glazing method, from a different master (Hong Kunfu 洪坤福). If I'm reading the history right -- and I might not be -- the two sculptors' whose work features there (Lin Tianmu 林添木 and Chen Chuanyou 陳專友) -- were respectively the grandson and apprentice of these two great artists.

The temple is one of the few remaining ones where a ritual "atonement for sins" ceremony takes place (with participants wearing symbolic paper "cangues" rather than actual wooden stocks). 

Backstreets and under-appreciated architecture

I recommend first enjoying a wander around the backstreets in this neighborhood, then eventually taking the road that runs along the side of the temple on the left (if you are facing the temple entrance) and staying straight on it. This road will take you directly past the baseball stadium to Chiayi Park. 

An under-appreciated aspect of Taiwan's architectural heritage are its more decorative mid-century houses. You will pass many fine examples on this road; take your time and enjoy them.

Then, hoof it up the poorly-shaded hill past the stadium -- there is a Donutes cafe that is fancier than it has any right to be if you need a pick-me-up, and a few benches on the way up.

Chiayi Park and Relic Shrine 嘉義市史蹟資料館

Soon enough, however, you'll find yourself at Chiayi Park, which overlooks much of the city. The park itself is attractive, and in addition to the former Kagi Shrine, a Japanese Shinto Shrine built in 1915 and renovated in the 1940s. The main hall was turned into a Martyrs' Shrine by the ROC and later destroyed, however the arch remains. The temple office and water purification hall remain and are open to the public as a museum space and historic site. 

Nothing here is in English, and I'm self-conscious about my slow Mandarin reading, so I tend not to read museum signage. However, it was worth a look around. It also houses a cafe and small shop stocked with locally-made souvenirs. 

The cool breezes rustling through the trees at the park and golden late afternoon sunlight on Japanese-era relics gave the whole area a feeling of being lost in time, despite it being somewhat crowded. This is a good place to take a rest after a long and likely sweaty walk. 

The park also houses the Sun Shooting Tower (the design was inspired by an Indigenous myth, though I have to say I don't find it particularly attractive), the Chiayi Confucius Temple and other things to see; a walk around is worthwhile. I was tired, however, and chose instead to drink iced tea the Chinese-style pagoda nearby, admiring the Japanese architecture from afar. 

Had I been planning on dinner in Chiayi, I certainly would have headed to Chu-ju Teahouse 竹居茶樓. I have no idea if the buildings are truly old or not, but it looks stunning. If I hadn't gone alone that is -- it's set up for groups more than individual diners. But I had plans in Taichung that evening, so I called a cab from Chiayi Park, picked up my bag at the train station and grabbed the next available train north. 

A Denouement 

Over the next week, Ms. Liou and I discussed the size, layout and borders of my custom mirror through Line. Soon after that, there was a knock at my door back in Taipei: my very expensive mirror had arrived just before Christmas! It would be New Year's before we could get it hung, but once we did, it tied the whole bathroom together, including the painfully-oudated orange and green tiles that were original to the mid-80s construction of our building. 

It was worth it to not only make my bathroom look intentionally retro instead of just old and cringey, but to support a local business and historic preservation initiative.

Because I haven't spent a lot of time in Chiayi, I'm not able to write the sorts of in-depth posts I can offer for Taipei and even Tainan. However, I enjoyed my time there. The food was delicious and unpretentious, the weather pleasant, the city walkable, and cabs (as well as rare city buses) exist for when the distance is just too far. It's an underrated city; I recommend checking it out for its own merits sometime rather than using it as a stopover on the way to more famous places like Alishan.

         

A Tiny Ceramic Flag and the Sweet Southern Wind: Day Tripping to Xigang and Xuejia

Years ago, a fellow foreign teacher I befriended in China made an offhand comment that he'd thought I'd run out of things to do in Taiwan after I'd already lived here for far longer than I'd ever lived in China. He didn't explain his reasoning, and the comment was not meant to be mean-spirited. He'd visited Taiwan before, so he was aware that the country lacks the big-ticket tourist spots that China boasts -- which I mean in both senses of the term. 

I don't remember my exact response, but it was along the lines of "there's a lot more to do here than people realize." 

Of course, I did not mean that there were undiscovered 'big ticket tourist spots' that the rest of the world was unaware of. I meant that years of living in Taiwan have given me a deeper appreciation for the intimate and local. Culture, history and the ins and outs of daily life here hold my interest more because I actually like living here, which I could never say about China. Not only do I not need a Great Wall or Forbidden City, but smaller-scale things like a tiny ceramic flag on a small-town temple arguably hold my interest just as much.

With that said, I come down to Tainan fairly often these days, a combination of business and personal travel. Usually, a very close friend drives up from Kaohsiung and we pick a destination or two outside the city to visit -- places you have to drive to get to (of course I make up for not driving by paying for lunch and other random costs). 

We started in Xigang, at the village of Liucuo (劉厝) -- literally "Liu House" because a branch of the Liu family  once settled there. I had also been mapping out all of the traditional mansions (古厝) I could find in the Tainan area with the intention of visiting any given one that might be on the way to something else, and the Liu Family Mansion (劉氏古厝) happened to be on the road to Xuejia. 

What we found was a quiet, friendly village in an agricultural area, with an absolutely stunning traditional three-sided house. In addition to being very well-maintained -- swept and gleaming with sparkling white paint and blue trim and new window and door frames -- the Liu mansion features a set of windows out front with a stylized "long life" (壽) pattern in faux brick. If you look carefully, you'll see that they're painted to look like bricks but are actually solid. The front gate says Xun Nan Feng Lai (薰南風來) -- Sweet Wind from the South (or Fragrant Southern Wind), which is just lovely.

Very often in these places, if you just turn up and ask if you can take a walk around the grounds (I never go inside unless specifically invited), people are quite happy to have you around. 

As the gate was closed and nobody appeared to be home, we asked around at the community center that looks like a temple next door, where a friendly auntie went over to an ancient neighbor's house, as she knows everyone. Grandma says that visitors usually call in advance but anyway, we could just step over the low brick wall surrounding the compound. 

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" she said, as she put on some flipflops and hopped easily over, despite having obvious back issues and looking to be about 100 years old. My friend and the two women -- likely Liu family members but I never did ask -- chatted as I wandered around and took pictures. I was pleased to see them growing hibiscus in the back the way my family used to have a berry brambles; a tray of drying hibiscus flowers sat on the low brick wall just as a bowl of fresh berries might be found in our fridge growing up. I'm a big fan of hibiscus tea -- really just brewing the dried flowers -- for its flavor and blood-pressure lowering qualities. 

The Liu mansion was built in 1864, and is said to be the oldest house in the Xigang (西港) area (Liucuo is in Xigang). It was built by a descendant of Liu Xi (劉喜), who himself was a descendant of Liu Dengkui (劉登魁), one of the original Liu family immigrants to Taiwan from China. Liu Dengkui was born around 1640 and died around 1722 -- I looked it up from this post but I can't promise that my double-check of which calendar year corresponds to which emperor's fancy-name year is perfect. Liu Xi settled the area now known as Liucuo around 1710. The Liu family were both in the military and known for cultivating farmland in the area, and this branch is quite populous in Taiwan now. 

Behind this mansion was another old farmhouse, less immediately appealing but with some charming details. Grandma easily pushed the heavy gate open, swatting away my hand when I tried to help and let us in. The owner, who was outside watering his plants and wearing a baseball cap for the local temple, didn't mind. The paintings around the doors on this house are very well-preserved and well worth a look if you can find someone to show you back there. 

Both houses are decorated with Majolica tiles along the roof beams which are also worth a look, although they're a bit hard to see. 

Auntie recommended that while we were in the area, we also check out nearby Bafen (八分), where two more mansions could be found; one was well-maintained and seems to house some sort of employment or community center. Behind it was another one that had burned down some time ago and was slowly being taken over by tropical plants. 

They can be a little hard to find as they're not visible from the main road, but a friendly local who himself has a very nice courtyard house pointed out the way to us. The whole area smells like a pigsty -- an honest, agricultural smell -- but it's absolutely worth it, if you're into old houses. The well-preserved house in front has some gorgeous Majolica tilework to admire, and the one behind it is a picturesque ruin.  

I just want to take this opportunity to tell you where my interest in random old houses comes from. I grew up in one, built in the 1850s (making it older than the Liu mansion). As a kid I hated it. Drafty and creaky and far from everything, with everything in a constant state of needing renovation, and we didn't even have a decent television because my parents didn't think it was important. I don't even believe in ghosts but if they do exist, that house was definitely haunted (my mom, sister and I often thought one of the others was calling us, usually around 8-9pm, when none of us were. I'm not joking). I spent a lot of time outside and a lot of time reading until my friends were old enough to drive. I complained constantly, but it's given me an affinity for life in an old house. Now, I'd consider buying one if I had enough money to renovate it to my standards. 

While driving through the pig-scented countryside, my friend told me about 草地郎 (cao deh lang), or 'good country folk', which everyone we met had been. A good English translation would be 'salt of the earth'. I wouldn't go so far as to call myself that, but despite some cultural differences, my rural childhood wasn't entirely different, growing up in an old house in the middle of nowhere, supplementing our food with things that grew in our backyard. I didn't have a baseball cap from the local temple, but I did have to go to church every Sunday.

In Bafen there is a very old temple once known for producing a particular kind of special incense that was used in many temples across Taiwan. It's been renovated and doesn't look particularly special, but if you're in the area a quick stop is worth it; the interior has a few vintage features including a very pretty mid-century floor with a lotus design near the altar and a lovely banyan tree out front. 

Apparently this temple, the 八分開基姑媽宮 (Bafen Kaiji Aunt Temple is the best translation I can offer) was founded in the late 1500s and honors the four goddesses of Yin, He, Li and Ji (鄞， 何，李，紀). Apparently there's a couplet in the temple that references Koxinga, but I didn't see it.

The 16th century seems early, but there were a few Chinese fishing and trading outposts in this part of Taiwan then, before serious migration began in the late 17th century. It looks newer because it was rebuilt several times since the 1700s, most recently in the late 1970s/early 1980s. Several stele have been gifted to the temple over the centuries, some of which have been lost, while other ones can still be seen.

Another story about this temple is that those resisting Japanese colonial rule could pray here to find out where the Japanese army would be, so they could head in teh opposite direction.

There is more to this temple, so it's worth reading their Wikipedia page, linked above (Mandarin only). 

From there, we drove on to Xuejia (學甲), famous for milkfish, first stopping for a delicious milkfish congee. My friend thought it was a bit sweet; I just thought it tasted like Tainan food. 

Xuejia's famous Ciji Temple (慈濟宮) is where we finally meet our tiny flag. 

When you first approach the temple, look up at the three roof gods (known as the “three stars” or 三星). They appear on most Taiwanese Taoist temples. If you didn’t already know, these are 福祿壽 (Fu, Lu and Shou) and represent fortune, prosperity/happiness and longevity: the three things essential to a good life. Each is associated with a star in Chinese astronomy. In Western astronomy these are Jupiter, Ursa Major and Canopus, respectively. Each generally carries a specific item: Fu carries a baby and a scroll, Lu carries a footrest (though I’ve seen him with gold ingots too) and Shou carries a longevity peach.

What’s interesting about Ciji Temple is that, while Fu’s child typically holds a toy, this particular child is holding an ROC flag. 

Grateful to be rambling the countryside with a friend fluent in Taiwanese, we asked about the reason for this. Apparently, when the Japanese took over Taiwan, they razed several temples and replaced them with Shinto shrines. We appreciate the shrines which remain and want to preserve them as part of Taiwan’s heritage, but the fact is that at the time they were a colonizing force, just like the Chinese architecture and administration that replaced the Dutch, after the Dutch sought to replace the social and religious systems of the Indigenous tribes. After the Japanese, the ROC again razed as much of the previous colonizer’s architectural mark as they could and re-built either in mid-century concrete, northern Chinese-or “Eurasian” style which has nothing to do with Taiwanese culture or history. 

So, to protect their temple from Japanese administrators who would have happily demolished it, they gave the child on the roof a small Japanese flag to demonstrate their “loyalty” ("loyalty" meaning "please don’t tear down our temple"). It worked, and the temple was left alone. You can see a reprinted picture of the temple with the original Japanese flag in the exhibition hall. When the temple was renovated in the mid-20th century to protect the remaining priceless ceramic work, the Japanese flag was covered with an ROC flag to demonstrate the change in government. You can still see a photo of the original flag in the exhibition hall that contains the old ceramics, which is well worth a visit.

I can think of no better metaphor for Taiwanese history than two temples, a short drive from one another, one of which has records dating to before the Dutch or Koxinga and which helped people avoid the Japanese, and the other of which features art by a 19th century master -- more on that below -- where a tiny ceramic Japanese flag still flies, albeit covered with a Republic of China flag.

Ciji Temple, which is dedicated to Baosheng Dadi (the same god as Bao'an Temple in Taipei) once contained a great deal of 19th-century Koji ceramic work (交趾陶), which on temples usually involved painstakingly sculpted, glazed and fired figures and backgrounds arranged into elaborate story scenes.

This particular Koji ceramic work was done by the famed Yeh Wang (葉王, born Ye Lin-jhih 葉麟趾, a 19th century Taiwanese artisan and Chiayi native, the son of another pottery maker. He was -- and is -- famed for his mind-blowing attention to detail who is considered one of the 'creators' of this art form. He’s also responsible for some of the finest examples of this art form across central Taiwan, including several temples in Chiayi. He was invited to work on Ciji Temple after an earthquake in 1853 caused a great deal of damage that required restoration which happened in the 1860s.

To put it another way, he's famous enough in Taiwan that you can buy a children's book about him.

By the 1960s, Yeh Wang’s work on Ciji Temple was becoming a bit weatherbeaten, so the temple was renovated using modern glazing techniques. The new work was done by more contemporary masters in ceramics and glazing.



Fortunately, much of the original work is preserved in the exhibition hall next to the temple. Even better, the entire exhibition is bilingual, although not all of the story scenes are fully explained (there is a rather long and awkward passage about a rich guy who “loved ducks” -- geese in Chinese -- however.) 

Look at the fingernails he created in his Drunken Li Bai 李白: 





Li Bai was quite the alcoholic, saying that sober men never go down in history, only drunkards get famous.

And the furrowed brow on this fellow: 





...and recall that these figures were often places on roofs or under awnings, where such details might not even be seen by visitors.

At the entrance to the temple, there are two people riding lions who have distinctly non-Chinese features, one more obviously than the other. On one side, a man with dark auburn hair, a Caucasian nose and a square jaw is holding an urn and a lotus stalk. On the other, his friend with big round eyes is holding another urn, and a banana leaf (the original ceramic banana leaf is lost). The man who told us about the flag said that they were Dutch (胡人 or "Hu People", which my friend translated as Dutch), and carried gifts because they ‘brought good things’ (tributes and gifts, I suppose) to Chinese leaders. The exhibition hall confirms they are Hu, but describes them as being nnorthern Chinese Hu (a nomadic group from the steppes) offering tribute. In any case, the items they carry said together are "甕甕蓮蕉" (urn urn lotus banana), which sounds like 旺旺連招 in Taiwanese. This is a spoken expression in Taiwanese which means something like 'good things come at the end' or 'the outcome is good fortune' (or something along those lines; I am not as proficient in Taiwanese as I'd like to be).

The current ones can be seen on the temple roof: 

And the Yeh Wang originals are preserved in the exhibition hall:

While Yeh Wang's lions are highly stylized in the traditional way and thus aren't meant to look exactly like real lions, I am quite certain he never saw a real tiger in his life:

Not his fault, of course. In the 1800s one was probably better off not coming across tigers.

There are some other interesting things to see in the exhibition hall: the top floor boasts some ancient archeological finds from Indigenous settlements and the old temple doors with door gods painted by yet another master artist. This area offers no bilingual signage, however.



In short, if you are interested in Taiwanese temples, history or art, Ciji Temple and the exhibition hall are absolutely worth your time. 



From here, we drove out to the Laotang Lake Art Village (老塘湖藝術村), a piece of architectural art composed of old, weatherbeaten building bits and pieces put together by The Mad Painter (or Hyper Painter), an artist from Kaohsiung. It costs NT100 to enter if you're not from Xuejia.

Instead of trying to explain it, here's a picture of the explanation for this place:

The artist is also known for his quick-painted depictions of famous people, and a few re-paintings of famous works (there's a quick-painted Mona Lisa, for example). There's a small exhibition near the entrance. 

This place is truly out in the middle of nowhere; you have to drive past rows of fishponds to get there. Apparently, the Mad Painter created it to evoke the backdrops of old martial arts films, which are meant to be dilapidated and weatherbeaten. The entire area surrounds a small lake (Laotang Lake, I suppose) with an island at the center, and it seems as though a few shops are open on busy days. We were there towards the end of a quiet day, so very little was open, but it was peaceful and lovely at sunset. 

There is one issue, however: the whole area smells of some combination of sewage and garbage. As my friend pointed out, there is a cafe and it would be a great place to stop for a drink, if it didn’t smell so bad. 

I’m not quite sure what to make of it otherwise. It’s not a tourist trap; it’s not well-known enough for that. Xuejia residents get free entry and it seems as though several older people take advantage of this. A few cosplayers were photographing themselves in the picturesque scenery, too. The area is home to several animals who look clean, fed and cared for, and are friendly to visitors. 

Xuejia is not far from Madou 麻豆, which not only has the Animatronic Hell Temple (Madou Daitian Temple, if you want to be formal about it) but also a famous savory rice pudding bowl (碗粿 -- I don't really know how to translate that but it's a typical Tainan breakfast food) restaurant called 麻豆碗粿蘭 right on the traffic circle heading into town. The restaurant remains open and serves the dish well into dinnertime, and I can honestly say it's one of the best I've had.