Lugang's "Rival" Matsu Processional

Lugang's Tianhou Temple (天后宮) is not on the official circuit for the Jen Lann Temple Matsu Pilgrimage (but nearby Zhanghua's Nanyao Temple...is). Both temples are quite old, quite famous, quite prestigious, and quite a part of the deeply knit old Hoklo communities here - and quite involved with local "brotherhoods" (Jen Lann Gong more so - so I hear).

As you can imagine, the two temples have something of a rivalry, although it's nothing compared to Yunlin's Xingang and Beigang Matsu temples.

As such, when Jen Lann Temple's festival starts up, Tianhou has its own festival the next day, and it's quite a good one. We were lucky to catch it - unlike the Jen Lann Gong Matsu Pilgrimage kick-off - in good weather.



This festival was more traditional than ones you see in Taipei - when I finally finish editing my film footage I'll be able to explain why in better detail, with clearer examples.

For one, though, there were far more spirit mediums. Three in this group, and several more throughout the festival, including some in costumes and some without, and some women (which is not common - I've never seen a female spirit medium in Taipei, although maybe I'm just not looking hard enough).

The guy above is facing Thousand Mile Eyes, the green demon of Matsu's two demon-turned-good-guy attendants.



The first of two Ji Gong spirit mediums, the night before the big festival.






These guys are carrying the sedan chair for Hu Ye (Ho Ya in Taiwanese), the Tiger God who sits beneath Tudi Gong, the Earth God. They're among my favorites - I have a great video in the clips I'm editing of them exploding a mound of firecrackers underneath the idol.



You've seen lion dances before, I bet, but I love this photo.



I tried to get a few more photos of people rather than "things" in this festival - here are a few that I did get -




 







With the blinding sun, though, it was hard to get good, clear photos without too much glare. Sadly, rather like a typhoon, one does not get to decide when a festival comes in.







Everyone loves the San Tai Zi, or "God's 3 children". Yes, they're dancing to Gangnam Style.




I have no idea why this spirit medium is sucking on a pacifier. I haven't seen that before. Longer-term Taiwan folks: is this a thing?

 

These guys are praying for no storms, good rain and sun. and good farming. It's all a part of a very traditional chant and ceremonial - more ceremonial than usual - burning of money for spirits. To me, the song sounded dark and ominous. To Taiwanese friends I've played the video for, however, it sounded perfectly normal, not scary at all.





This guy was the second of two Ji Gong spirit mediums we saw.



A woman possessed like a spirit medium, but not injuring herself.



A member of the crowd is also possessed. This happens sometimes. It sort of happened to me in Donggang, very briefly, although that was probably a combination of heat exhaustion, pounding waves, drums and heat.

 


This guy is writing "god characters" in the air and using the whip to scare away bad ghosts and spirits.



Passing the idols over incense before bringing them out.

What follows after this are just some atmosphere shots of Lugang - Zhongshan Road, the old street, Tianhou, Longshan and Dizang Wang temples...if you're not really into that, you can stop here. But I felt the shots were good enough to warrant posting, so if you just want to enjoy some pretty pictures (or haven't seen Lugang before), enjoy.













































Longshan Temple at sunset (Lugang, not Taipei)













Tianhou Temple at night







Fish eggs being laid out for sale - typically eaten with white turnip, scallion and maybe a touch of garlic.

Drum Majorettes and the Goddess of the Sea

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

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




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

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

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

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



Awwww.





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





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

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



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



I am a big fan of old buildings.



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













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











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



"Sexy" bandleaders.





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

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









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





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



And every god loves an LED-bedecked palanquin.









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

Also, GLITTER CANNONS!





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



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

Just Checking In

Hi all - so I know I haven't been blogging much lately. Lots of professional obligations and other stuff going on in my life, and I just haven't had a lot of free time. The weekend when I did have free time (this past tomb sweeping), I went to Dajia to see the opening of the Matsu Pilgrimage and then to Lugang for a day of relaxation in that lovely, atmospheric town.

I'm still around though, and going to try to get back to my normal blogging schedule soon. I definitely have a lot of photos from Dajia and Lugang to share, and some videos too!

The White Knight Rises

Just recently I got into a debate with someone online about women traveling in India. The guy said he "wouldn't advise any [woman] (he said "female", I prefer "woman")to travel in India", let alone advise them to go alone.

I felt that statement and its defense by someone else - "it's legitimate to warn women about these issues" - implied a minor case of White Knight Syndrome: the idea that it is necessary to protect, defend, rescue or help someone else, due to a belief that that person needs your protection, defense, rescue or help. It's an assumption that the person (or group - in this case women) is vulnerable, weaker or in distress and unable to handle the situation herself/himself/themselves. In that case, any woman planning to go to India would have almost certainly read the news for herself and be able to assess the dangers herself. She doesn't really need some random guy giving her "advice", well-intentioned though it may be.

Then I got to thinking - do I have White Knight Syndrome? Not towards women, but towards Taiwanese?

If you see it one way, it doesn't look good: I have a lot of opinions, and I like to talk about my ideas for making Taiwan a better country. I'm openly critical of things I don't like, be they political parties, domestic or foreign policy, work culture, sexism or traditional ideas about education. I really do feel I have some "right" ideas, even as I recognize that no one person can have an entirely correct/objective perspective on everything. Obviously, anyone who has an opinion thinks they are right. Otherwise why have one? I do feel it's important to speak out, even if it's just to real-life acquaintances or on this blog - I'm not much of an activist beyond that.

Looking at it that way, you could make a case that I and every other foreigner with strong opinions about Taiwan has this problem. We're not Taiwanese, so who are we to go around spouting off what we think needs to be done in Taiwan? Who are we to criticize certain cultural mores? I care a lot about Taiwan, but it's not really my job to "defend" or "protect" it. Taiwan doesn't need a white knight - a literally white knight - to speak up for it. This country is capable of speaking up for and defending itself. Taiwanese people are perfectly capable of carrying on and disseminating this discourse on their own. They don't need Whitey McWhitegirl to do it for them. "Foreigners Come In And Fix Taiwan" is no good, just as "White People Fixed Racism" and "Men Fixed Sexism" are no good.

On the other hand, I live here too. I'm a permanent resident and I've thrown my lot in with Taiwan. When something happens here, it affects me too. Work culture affects me and racism and sexism certainly affect me. When 天龍 (Hao Lung-bin) makes another stupid decision or fails to take on a vital initiative (or tries and bungles it), it affects me, too. Integration with China, freedom of speech and the press, urban renewal, the nuclear debate, education policy and tradition: they all affect me.

And although I am not Taiwanese, do I not have the right to speak up about things that affect me too, that I care about? I may not fully understand and only be semi-integrated into society (I suspect there is a "sense of distance" - 有距離感 - that I will never overcome). Although my opinion doesn't carry the same weight as someone who was born and raised here - literally doesn't, as I can't vote - that doesn't mean I shouldn't get any say in what goes on in the place where I live.

The conclusion that I've come to is that I probably do have a tendency to be overprotective or defensive regarding Taiwan, and that I should be mindful of my opinions and how I express them. That does not, however, mean I can never express an opinion again. There are ways to be an ally and stand up for what you believe in, especially if you live somewhere and are affected just as much as others by something, without being a White Knight. The same goes for male feminists and straight LGBT allies, to name a few.

This makes it easy when it comes to debates on the economy, China policy, nuclear weapons and laws pertaining to foreigners. It gets murky when you start talking about things like education and women's issues. On one hand, as a woman and educator, these issues do affect me. How children are educated in Taiwan absolutely has some bearing on the thought processes and attitudes of the adults I work with. As a woman, I really believe that "but [this sexist belief] is a part of our traditional culture! You can't criticize OUR CULTURE!" is a load of crap. It is possible to maintain one's culture and also promote equality. It is possible to respect the past and also progress. You don't have to oppress women or any other group just to retain your culture. And yet, a foreigner speaking out about cultural issues pertaining to women could be seen as a White Knight. It's a fine line.

It's murkier still when you start talking about cultural habits (which are not universal, but generally observable) and norms. Am I being a White Knight when I say, for example, "Despite his low popularity and criticisms of his presidency, Ma Ying-jiu was re-elected because people in Taiwan tend to favor stability and pragmatism, and saw him as the 'stable' candidate with the 'pragmatic' view...and that sucks, because he's a terrible president with terrible ideas. I'd really like to see more people in Taiwan stand up for what they really believe in, and what they hold in their hearts, as opposed to sacrificing it for 'stability' and 'pragmatism'"? You might say that I am. I'm not sure I'd disagree with you. And yet, the outcome of elections here also affects me, even though I can't vote in them (which you could argue is unfair...but...). It's one of those things I have to think more deeply about.

Think about it like Zhuangzi and the fish - which someone else in that discussion brought up. How can you know how a fish feels if you are not a fish? How can I know how a Taiwanese person feels if I am not Taiwanese? (I once had a Taiwanese friend say this to me, by the way, a check on my opinions that I appreciated).

I am not Taiwanese, so how can I really know how a Taiwanese person feels? I can't.

And yet, I live here and have a pile of Taiwanese friends and acquaintances who have told me how they feel or what they think is best for their country or culture. So it's not as though I completely lack insight.

It comes down to - sure, if I live in Taiwan and have a blog that discusses issues in Taiwan, I have enough contact with locals to have some idea of how locals feel. This is my blog, and therefore of course, unless there's a guest post (and I'd welcome some, especially from Taiwanese women wanting to talk about women's issues in Taiwan) it has to come from me. But when the discussion includes both me and Taiwanese people, the best individuals to speak out on how Taiwanese people feel are...Taiwanese people themselves. Not me. They're the fish - they know better than I do how a fish feels. They know better than I do what's best for fish.

That doesn't mean I can't say anything. Just that I need to be mindful: I am not a fish.

There are no clear answers - but it is an issue worth discussing and exploring, and definitely worth keeping in mind, especially among foreign expats who opine on their adopted homes.