Guns and Roses: Wanhua Makes a Comeback

The popular film Monga has revived interest in the oldest district in Taipei, home to some of the city’s major sightseeing spots.

TEXT AND PHOTOS BY MARK CALTONHILL

Derived from an aboriginal word Vanka referring to the canoes with which indigenous people brought sweet potatoes, charcoal, and other produce downriver to sell to Chinese settlers, it was adapted as Manga (艋舺; literally “small boat”) in Minnan. These characters meant nothing to the Japanese when they took over Taiwan in 1895, so they used the similarly pronounced Manka (萬華; literally “Ten Thousand Flowers”), and these characters were preserved by the incoming ROC administration from 1945, but using the Mandarin pronunciation Wanhua. Hence none of the original characters, meaning, or pronunciation was preserved.

The river was the heart of this district, the earliest part of Taipei inhabited by Han Chinese, but today is largely hidden behind high levees. A good place to start a visit is at the Taipei City Wholesale Fish Market (531 Wanda Road) near the river, where more than 100 tons of fresh fish are auctioned before dawn each day. Smaller quantities can be bought at the retail stalls next door, and there are a couple of restaurants selling cooked fish. Less bloody, the No.1 Fruit and Vegetable Wholesale Market nearby is also worth a look.

By the 1730s, Manga was the main center of trade in northern Taiwan, the origin of Taipei City, as well as its major port. This dominant role continued until silting of the river led to Manga’s decline. Another perhaps more important cause was the frequent fighting among ethnic subgroups who had migrated from Jinjiang (晉江), Hui’an (惠安), Nan’an (南安) and Tong’an (同安) in Fujian Province. These clashes finally led to a mass exodus of the losers, who then established Dadaocheng (大稻埕) as a rival wharf further downstream (at the end of today’s MinSheng West Road).

Manga’s Qingshui Zushi Temple (清水祖師廟), first built in 1787, was razed during such fighting in 1853, only to be rebuilt in 1867. Largely overshadowed by its larger neighbor Longshan Temple (龍山寺), its sleepy, restaurant-sided courtyard offers a glimpse of times gone by. It would probably not look very different from when Canadian George MacKay first came in 1872. One of the most successful missionaries in the entire China region, he nevertheless had great difficulty “taking” Manga. In his book From Far Formosa, MacKay spells it as Bang-kah, nicknames it “the Gibraltar of heathenism in North Formosa,” and says that its estimated population of around 45,000 made it the largest and most important city in northern Taiwan.

“The citizens of Bang-kah, old and young, are daily toiling for money, money – cash, cash,” he noted in his journal of 1875. “They are materialistic, superstitious dollar-seekers. At every visit, when passing through their streets we are maligned, jeered at, and abused. Hundreds of children run ahead, yelling with derisive shouts; others follow, pelting us with orange-peel, mud, and rotten eggs. For hatred to foreigners, for pride, swaggering ignorance, and conceit, for superstitious, sensual, haughty, double-faced wickedness, Bang-kah takes the palm.”

Today foreigners are warmly welcomed, though even the main tourist sights (Longshan Temple, Snake Alley, Xinmending, etc.) are not overrun with outsiders and the atmosphere is thoroughly local. Longshan, for example, is a typical working temple, where Manga residents go to supplicate and thank their favorite deities. Ostensibly a Buddhist place of worship, since the main deity worshiped is the Bodhisattva Guanyin, in reality it is typical of mixed temples with numerous other figures honored in smaller shrines to the rear.

Ghost money and herbs

XiYuan Road on the temple’s west side has many stores specializing in religious paraphernalia. Selling everyday items such as ghost money, divination tools, and statues, as well as high art and more bizarre items such as weapons used by jitong (乩童; “divination boys”) for self-harm when possessed by spirits, they are good places for visitors to search for more unusual souvenirs.

Along the east side of the temple is “herb lane,” worth exploring for vegetation used in cooking and herbal cures.

In front of Longhsan Temple is a large open plaza. This is an ideal place to learn about traditional life in contemporary Taipei. Members of the local community, most of them elderly males, gather here all day long to pass the time, make friends, and enjoy themselves, and the side streets are filled with small cheap eateries. One store of unusual interest is the secondhand bookshop, antique bazaar, and café at No. 152, Lane 4, GuangZhou Street, one of the nearest things Manga has to a museum.

Another museum-like venture is the government-backed development of Bopiliao (剝皮寮), a short street of old buildings, one block further east near the junction of GuangZhou Street and KangDing Road. Still a work in progress, it already throngs with local sightseers because it was featured in Niu’s Monga. With official support, many of the small houses along what is said to have been the district’s main street in very early times have been renovated and contain exhibitions of history, art, and local culture. Although there is not yet much in the way of English information, it is still a good place to take pictures and buy souvenirs.

Back on the square, buskers entertain crowds, experts pick lottery numbers for hopeful gamblers, people dance and play Chinese chess, monks beg, and streetwalkers and their pimps approach potential customers.

Although prostitution has officially been stopped, it seems to be tolerated in Manga, where the predominantly elderly women operate openly and there are still STD clinics behind the temple. The showcase platform of this “colorful” slice of local culture, HuaXi Street (華西街; nicknamed “Snake Alley”) further east, which had open displays of snakes, turtles, and apes, and one of the city’s major red-light districts along adjacent alleys, has largely been cleaned up. This is probably due to tourist dollars as much as government edict: the sanitized market now specializes in seafood snacks and foot massages as much as snake blood and happy endings. There are many temples in the district, and many temple activities. Of particular note is that each year in November or December (the 22nd and 23rd days of the 10th lunar month), the Qingshan Temple (青山宮) at 218 GuiYang Street Sec. 2 organizes one of Taipei’s most spectacular street parades, with statues of deities from nearby temples brought to celebrate the King of Qingshan’s birthday. Beyond the bright lights and camera crews, this is also an event that will have changed little since MacKay’s time.

Uniforms and costumes

From a transportation hub based on the river, Manga developed into a center of trade. In addition to the fishing and agricultural products sold in its markets, it was particularly known for its textile and clothing businesses. While these have largely gone elsewhere (mainly to China and Southeast Asia), there are still a few reminders to be seen and enjoyed. Two curiosities in the otherwise quiet Hanzhong Street area are the trade outfitters and fancy dress shops. The former provide uniforms for everyone from shop staff to marching bands, while the latter stock costumes for private parties, trade shows, and cosplay events.

Far more obvious is the modish district of Ximending, Taiwan’s first pedestrian zone. Busy on weekday evenings, it is completely mobbed with young people on weekends, when record companies, cosmetic manufacturers, and others put on stage shows featuring established and up-and-coming music and television stars. Licensed buskers and street artists draw crowds in the wider car-free streets, while the back alleys leading toward KunMing Street are home to dozens of small independent designers selling clothing and accessories to Taipei’s counterculture youths. There are tattoo artists and body piercers as well as hair salons, manicurists, and masseurs. Street walls are covered in bright murals and graffiti, and the sound of skateboards echoes through the lanes above the chords of indie-music played on portable hifis.

The area is also popular with musicians making pop videos, and with local television and film makers. Of course, Niu was not the first mainstream director to make use of the area’s traditional atmosphere. Hou Hsiao-hsien also chose it for his 1986 film Dust in the Wind (戀戀風塵) and Tsai Ming-liang used it in his 1992 Rebels of the Neon God (青少年哪吒).

Manga was once the entertainment center of Taipei, with numerous theaters doing good business on weekdays and weekends alike. Although many are gone, largely replaced by KTV centers, Ximending still has a range of movie houses showing mainstream and art movies, and is one of the main centers of activity during the annual Taipei International Film Festival.

One reversal of this cultural decline was the reopening of the Red House Theater (紅樓劇場) in 2002. This fine Japanese-era, Western-style building dating from 1908 was originally constructed as a market, but was converted to a theater by Shanghai émigrés in 1949. Now under city government control, it has handicraft stalls on the first floor, but regularly organizes performances upstairs.

Its reconstruction led to a wider change in local fortunes, and the pedestrian zone around the theater fills with café tables by day and pub seating at night. This is a center of Taipei’s LGBT (Lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender) community, as can be identified by the leather trouser and underwear specialist stores – Manga’s latest take on the textile industry – interspersed among the cafés.

The rest of Manga, lying to the south of the now underground Taipei-to-Banqiao railway line, has its own attractions, but is largely residential. For locals, two of the highlights of living there are the spacious Youth Park and even more massive Riverside Park beneath the Huazhong Bridge to Yonghe.

Wanhua Railway Station offers access to the Longshan Temple area for visitors from outside the capital, though Taipei Main Station is within walking distance of Ximending. There are also MRT stations at Longshan Temple and Ximending, and ZhongHua Road is a main hub for bus services throughout the city and beyond.

Out-of-towners can also take advantage of the wide choice of hotels in the neighborhood, ranging from backstreet hovels to high-class establishments. Perhaps the ideal location for those wishing to connect with Manga’s past is one of the riverside hotels with windows offering views of the sunset across the waters that once swarmed with boats.

So what will you find in Manga? No guns, hopefully, though perhaps a few hints of gangs, and definitely a lady-of-the-night or two. And religion to be sure, food for certain, and maybe you will even fall in love with Taipei’s original conurbation.

Text and photos copyright Taiwan Business Topics and Jiyue Publications 2011/2012

School Murals (I)

a sample of murals at the Hu Shih Elementary School in Nangang (南港), Taipei City

say no go gangs

tooth-brushing expert

science class

text and photos copyright Jiyue Publications 2012

fish of the day

well, fish of last month actually.

Eating in the New Year

GT (http://www.globaltimes.cn/www/english/travel/themed-tours/2011-01/618482.html):

"In operation for 26 years," one sign reads; "Family-run for 35 years," another states, while yet another proclaims they've been "Selling the best foodstuffs for more than half-a-century." In Taipei's Dihua Street, tradition is everything, and this is never truer than during the annual "Southern and Northern Product Fair" that runs for two weeks leading up to the Lunar Calendar New Year's Eve (falling on February 2 this year).

Families get together, neighbors and friends visit, and since Taiwanese are nothing if not hospitable, a good supply of food is essential for the holiday.

Street Life

Supermarkets and department stores do a roaring trade in specially packaged lihe (gift boxes), and bottles of wine or whisky with free customized glasses. But most people, even if they normally buy their groceries at supermarkets, like to go to a street market to get in some traditional xiaochi (snacks) in the days or weeks before New Year. In Taipei, this means a trip to Dihua Street, in the Dadaocheng district to the north of the city center.


New Year's Eve kicks off with the traditional family weilu ("get-together around the stove"), for which hot pot is a popular dish. To perk up the usual meat and vegetables, this will contain a variety of dumplings, mushrooms, tofu and seafood, all of which are on sale.


On New Year's Day itself, cooking is taboo, so pre-cooked meat and preserved vegetables are in great abundance. Most traditional are the larou (cured pork) and lachang (sausages), since la means both "curing" and is also an alternative name for the last month of the lunar calendar. Also seen in giant heaps are beef, pork and cuttlefish jerky, rousong (shredded pork), smoked duck - a specialty of Taiwan's northeastern Yilan County - dried fish, shrimps, scallops, shark's fin and abalone.

Vendors compete vigorously: some wear costumes - either traditional Chinese apparel or eye-catching animal suits - many shout, and all offer free samples to tempt shoppers.

"Around three-quarters of a million people will visit the market between January 15 and February 1," Chen Shih-Che of Original Creativity, a privately run marketing company, told the Global Times. "This is significantly more than in previous years," he added.

Original Creativity helps Taipei City organize the annual event, including bringing contemporary pop, dance and even rap acts to a small stage in the middle of the market.

But this is really just a new face for a long-established tradition that existed for decades before the government got involved. Nanbei huo, that is, the best "produce from South to North [China]," has been sold in Dadaocheng to the north of Taipei Railway Station since before the Japanese colonial authorities instructed local shopkeepers to build porticoed brick buildings in the 1920s, and even before the railway was built in the late 19th century.

Temple Fair

One of the oldest areas of the city, it dates from the migration from the even-older district of Mangka (now Wanhua), slightly further south along the Danshui River. This influx of population was perhaps the result of fighting between rival Fujian immigrants or maybe due to silting up of the river, but whatever the reason, Dadaocheng's wharf became a key northern Taiwan center of import/export, and the local streets boasted many of the island's finest houses and company buildings.

Indeed, several of these still stand, as does the Xiahai Temple at 61 Dihua Street. Dedicated to the Lord of Walls and Moats - more commonly known as City God - and with half-a-dozen altars bearing statues of several dozen different Daoist and Buddhist deities, at other times of the year the temple organizes walking tours of the historic neighborhood.

During the two-week fair, however, it concentrates on offering free "blessed tea" to flagging shoppers, while conducting its usual business of marshalling the services of The Old Man Under the Moon - a Daoist deity - who is said to help find prospective mates for single worshipers.
Most shoppers bypass the temple, however, as there is still much shopping to be done. Having bought hot-pot ingredients and dried meat, they perhaps focus next on the fruit, nuts and candies that relatives and friends will pick at between meals over the coming days.


Once more seen in great piles, and as always available to taste, are quantities of peanuts, pistachio, almonds, variously flavored pumpkin seeds, dates, figs, sun-dried persimmons, chestnuts from Tianjin, and the Taiwanese people's beloved pineapple cakes. One stall even sells Chilean cherries, showing that "North-South produce" now applies to all over the world. Most traditional, and still most popular, are ju (small oranges), since their name sounding like zhu (to offer good wishes) in Mandarin and ji (auspicious) is prized in Minnan Taiwanese - and also they are tasty, nutritious and symbolic of good fortune over the year to come.



In a similar vein, Taiwanese like to give gifts of pineapples, since its Minnan name onglai is homonymous with "prosperity has come." At one meal during the New Year celebrations, a fish will be eaten, since niannian you yu (every year have a fish) means "every year have a surplus," another auspicious saying. Naturally, both are on sale in the Dihua Street market.

Everybody's talking

Minnan is the language of the street, though of course everyone speaks Mandarin, and, since the stalls are staffed with temporary student workers, they are happy to practice English on foreigners. "Try one, it's free," is the usual opening phrase.

Taipei Mayor Hau Lung-bin spent two hours at the market on January 21, not to shop but to enjoy the atmosphere. "It's great to see events like this revitalizing the oldest parts of our city," he told the crowd, before handing out thousands of spring couplets for people to hang at home.

For those not lucky enough to receive the mayor's gift, there are stalls selling couplets, lanterns, paper cuts and other traditional New Year ornaments, most of them red and many bearing rabbit images, in keeping with this year's Chinese horoscope animal.

Several parcel companies run stalls and promise to deliver fresh produce in temperature-controlled bags to relatives and friends anywhere on the island within 24 hours, as does the local branch of the post office. Even the police get in on the act, with the local precinct taking advantage of the large number of visitors to promote anti-corruption and other public-service campaigns.

Somewhat incongruously, there are one or two shops selling objects such as belts and needlework supplies, not because these have any connection with the upcoming festivities, but because their stores are here year round.

In fact, Dadaocheng is a fascinating area to visit any time of year, such as at City God's birthday in the fifth lunar month, or when the district's puppet museum and theater has a new exhibition or show. At all times, the stores will still be selling the "best from the South to the North," and visitors are guaranteed a taste of Taiwan from times gone by.

recent food pics

out and about for cycle trips, and amcham (here) and Global Times articles (here)
so lots of food photos for JBB recently

such as this possible chapter title page for Taipei City:

















grilled tofu stall in Sanchong Night Market:
















and baked sweet potoato vendor, outside Liuzhangli MRT Station, Taipei City:
















a pig-ear chef in Dihua Street "south-north provisions market":
















a peanut vendor in Taipei's Wanhua District:














and while looking for New Year delicacies at Luzhou Market, some women buying "lucky red underwear":

on all things floral (except perhaps flowers)

first piece for global times (http://life.globaltimes.cn/art/2010-12/603746_2.html):

A child scans her bracelet in front of a sensor and a "flower" appears. It moves quickly onto a large screen, and is "planted" in a virtual "garden" with hundreds of others. Thus ends her visit to the Pavilion of Dreams, to the most popular exhibit at the Taipei International Flora Expo.



Set to use several million real plants (and countless such virtual ones) over its six-month run, the expo introduces visitors to the science, economics and aesthetics of various things botanical. Jointly sponsored by Taipei City and Taiwan's central government, it uses 91.8 hectares of public facilities - including the Dajia Riverside Park, the Children's Recreation Center, the Taipei Fine Arts Museum (the city's top cultural body), the long-disused Zhongshan Soccer Stadium, and historic buildings such as the Lin An-tai Historical Residence.

Expected to draw nearly 8 million people, the expo is the biggest event ever organized by Taiwan, with a population of just 23 million.

Most visitors enter at the western Yuanshan Park, and first pass the Floral Rainbow in the outside grandstand of the transformed soccer stadium. Inside, there would be held a series of six one-month-long competitions between nations, counties and private companies. Across the road in the Fine Arts Park, 22 countries will keep their exhibitions on for the entire six months in the Global Garden Area.

"This is one of my favorite parts of the Expo," the man in charge, General Producer Ting His-yung, told the Global Times. "In a small space I can see the designs of different cultures and understand the different ways in which different people think."

Another favorite exhibit is located on the stairway between the first and second floors in the Pavilion of Future in the expo's third area, the Xinsheng Park. This starts with flora from the shores of the Penghu Islands, and leads visitors through the vegetation common at increasing altitudes, until one reaches Taiwan's highest mountain, Yushan, standing 3952 meters above sea level and sparsely covered with alpine plants.

Ting also spoke of Taiwan's changing climate during the expo's half-year run, when temperatures will rise from -15 C to around 25. Combined with Taiwan's humidity and spring rains, such weather conditions are good for growing a wide variety of plants, he said.

Opportunities to take boats in Taiwan are surprisingly few considering no place is far from the sea. So, the highlight of the Dajia Riverside Park, the expo's fourth and final area, for many visitors is a boat ride along the Keelung River. This - as well as the Monet exhibition at the Taipei Fine Arts Museum - is the only attraction not included in the NT$300 ($10) combined ticket to the expo; and, at NT$80-250, it is not cheap. The trick is to chat up others queuing for tickets, since group tickets start at NT$40 per person.



Another idea is to start one's visit here, the most easterly point of the expo, as visitors are fewer and the queues shorter, taking less than the 1-2 hours for getting into some of the more popular pavilions. Shuttle buses run to six points within the expo, while free buses ply the outside gates.

The most important "local knowledge," however, is that the expo operates a reservation-ticket system, by which ordinary ticket holders must re-apply to visit the five most popular attractions. These secondary tickets are limited to a total of about 25,000 per day, meaning that at least half of all visitors will see none of the key pavilions. Early media reports focused on complaints by disgruntled ticket holders who were denied access to various pavilions. Ting dismissed these as a case of his fellow Taiwanese not grasping the workings of a world-class event of this sort.

It is essential, therefore, to read up on the expo and plan one's visit in advance, arrive before the gates open at 9 am, and get in line for the one or two top priority sights.

The five reservation-required pavilions are the Taipei Story House, a mock-Tudor building dating from Taiwan's trade with the West in the late 19th century; the Celebrity's House, dedicated to singer Teresa Teng; the Pavilion of Regimen, with its collection of bonsai; the Expo Theater, which shows a short 3D animated film about human impact on Taiwan's fragile natural environment; and the Pavilion of Dreams, with its display of the latest innovations loosely linked to botanical themes.



The expo has almost 7,000 artistic performances, ranging from community troupes to some of Taiwan's leading international-standard dance and musical ensembles. If seeing one or more of these is on one's list, then finding their times and locations and getting a seat in advance will also be necessary.

Many of the pavilions have been designed using cutting-edge technology in keeping with the expo's commitment to "3G" (green buildings, green transportation and green technology) and "3R" (reduce, recycle and re-use).

The highpoint of this is perhaps the FE EcoARK, appearing at the expo as the Pavilion of Fashion, constructed largely of bamboo and recycled PET bottles, which its creator claims set seven world records, including as the first wide-span exhibition hall with a zero-carbon footprint.

It is the only pavilion that will not remain on site after the expo. The other 13 will all remain - though their future uses are yet undecided - in what Ting refers to as "the expo's legacy for the city of Taipei".

As for the reason for holding the event at all, Ting, an academic with a 25-year passion for expos, said it was designed to showcase four of Taiwan's strengths: "Our technological power, agricultural power - including horticultural - cultural power and environmental protection power."

oh, sunny days

it seems to have rained for the last three months
so i have hardly a photo for the guidebook i have been commissioned to contribute to
so i have to dig back in my own files
<--such as this sunny-day shot of Taipei (Dadaocheng) from Taipei County (Sanchong)








and here is the view back the other way -->

high-rent neighbourhood

people living in taipei city often say "you can see Taipei 101 from my house"
well, this was the view from my rooftop garden at dawn recently

life on the edge of tormorrow

China Post editorial:

Is life in Taipei really as intolerable as they say?

Taipei might be the nation's political, economic and cultural capital, and have hundreds of kilometers of riverside bicycle paths and a highly popular mass-transportation system. It might have historical sites, museums, hot springs, world-class shops, and restaurants offering cuisines from around Taiwan, as well as from every region of China and every continent on the planet. But last week it was voted the second-worst place to live in Taiwan, only beating out Keelung, long portrayed as being damp, dreary and deprived.

The same public opinion survey, carried out on the behest of a national Chinese-language newspaper, found Hualien and Yilan counties, followed by Taichung City, to be the most popular choices.

Over the next few days, despite the knowledge that opinion polls can accidentally or intentionally be worded to produce all manner of results, and the fact that this survey simply asked about desire and not intent or reason, not to mention that similar recent surveys have placed Taipei at the top, rather than the bottom, of such rankings (and international surveys have selected Taipei as one of the top places to live in Asia), other media outlets spent much of the week wheeling out academic* “expert” witnesses to speculate about Taipei's shortcomings.

Their collective wisdom focused largely on the issue of housing costs. Also at center stage was the perception that the“simple life”led on Taiwan's east coast was“like a perpetual holiday”compared to the drudgery experienced by most of Taipei's office workers who often work from dawn-to-long-after-dusk.

This is a revealing interpretation, because Hualien and Yilan, both conveniently accessible from Taipei following the construction of the Syueshan Tunnel, top the ratings, whereas Taitung, further down the same coast and equally, if not more, idyllic but less accessible, does not score so highly.

So what this survey really showed was that people are dissatisfied with their lifestyles, not with their location. Compared to certain authoritarian states, where people do not have the right to live wherever they want, Taiwan is a free society, and the government does not restrict people's right to make their home anywhere. There is no need to conduct a poll asking people where they would like to live, therefore, since this can simply be ascertained from official population statistics. Thus 2.6 million people choose to live in Taipei City. Combined with the further 3.8 million of Taipei County, this represents more than one quarter of all Taiwan's citizens expressing and acting upon the desire to live in the greater Taipei area.

In comparison, just 340,000 live in Hualien County, despite it being almost 20 times the size of Taipei City, and 460,000 in Yilan County, despite its much lower house prices and 40-minute commute to Taipei. Add on the 230,000 who live in Taitung County, and the whole of Taiwan's east coast, with its clean air and simple lifestyle, still attracts less than 5 percent of the nation's population.

And while each year some professionals who are able to do their jobs online relocate to the countryside, and a few others give up their jobs, turning their backs on urban noise and pollution, and head off to Dulan or some other east-coast Shangri-La, they are far outnumbered by the droves of ambitious youths heading in the opposite direction as soon as they receive their high-school diplomas. Even after retirement, when many elderly (or not so elderly) people are in a position to cash in on the huge increase in the values of their properties, then buy something cheaper in a pleasant location and live comfortably off the chunk of change generated, most still opt to stay in the cities where they have spent their working lives.

So was last week's newspaper survey simply an attempt to generate a sensational headline, or a well-intentioned attempt to understand present-day society that merely asked the wrong question, or does it tell us something useful about people's changing priorities and their wishes for a better life?

The last two decades have already seen a significant shift from a drive to make money above all else, to a healthier work-play balance, which has witnessed a blossoming of hobbies, increased concern for the environment, and an explosion of domestic and overseas travel.

It is perhaps against this background, therefore, that the survey's results should be viewed. Taipei's citizens would like the same clear skies and pollution-free air they experience on weekend trips to the coast, they'd like to drive freely down the road not sit idling their time at traffic lights, they'd like to go to work at nine and leave at six so they can spend time with their families or on their hobbies, and they'd love to experience those cheap property prices.

In short, Taipei's citizens do not really want to move to Hualien (otherwise they would), but they would like to move a little bit of Hualien into Taipei.

*The original text read: "... associate professor expert witnesses ...", and the first draft actually said: "... associate professor expert witnesses who supplement their earnings and attempt to garner their reputations by speculating on such issues ..." (or something like that)

-- I have nothing against associate professors, but i do have something against media organisations that over-rely on their limited (sometimes non-existent) expertise on issues, meanwhile misleading readers--their main purpose--into believing these commentators' opinions are trustworthy, presumably on the strength of the word "professor".

new verse - the year the clocks stopped

another on-the-cludgy inspired poem
originally in Chinese
but the English translation came out much much better
shame, oh well

The year the clocks stopped

it’s five-to-two in the living room
I don’t know if it’s afternoon or after midnight
but it’s good to know
the clock is still right twice a day

it’s 6:36 when I go to the bathroom
Wang Chien-ming is a still Yankee
there are elections looming
but the toilet paper has run out

there is no clock in the kitchen
dishes pile ever higher in the sink
I make a pot of tea
but I don’t know why

it’s 8:05 on the motion-powered watch
beside the bed
beside the uncovered glass of water, reading glasses and unfinished novel
"do you still love me?” trapped inside the mosquito net

fish of the day

school mural, taipei

photo of taipei

the train is coming

fish of the day

shop door handles, taipei

fish of the day

a tough assignment

Article in Amcham's TOPICS magazine:

Microbrewers Stake out a Market Niche

BY mark caltonhill

[Photo: Author carrying out research at Taipei's Breeze Center]

Wen Li-guo likes beer. He likes beer so much that he decided to try to make some for himself, and so in 2002 he attended a course in home brewing organized by Duan Kwo-jen, professor of food science at Taipei’s Tatung University.

Wen liked the beer he made, so he made some more. Wen’s friends liked the beer he made, so he made yet more. In fact, they liked it so much they suggested he give up his delivery job and start his own brewery. In June 2003 he followed their advice, and his North Taiwan Brewery (北台灣麥酒; Tel: 2299-7991) sold its first batch in August the following year. It now produces around 2,000 liters of fruit-flavored and Belgian-style beers every month.

But until eight years ago, what Wen does was illegal. Even his home-brewing hobby fell under a gray area of the law, since for the best part of 100 years, the manufacture and sale of alcohol in Taiwan had been a government monopoly, along with tobacco products and, originally, salt, camphor, and opium. This Monopoly Bureau was started during the Japanese colonial administration of the island (1895-1945), and then taken over by the incoming ROC government as a nice little earner that contributed as much as 8% of the total national budget revenue. Only with Taiwan’s entry into the World Trade Organization was the monopoly dismantled and licenses issued for private alcohol production. Several hundred of these licenses have been issued to date, but Wen estimates fewer than 100 have been for beer, and of these fewer than a dozen are currently making and marketing a product. And at least one, and not one of the smallest, has already gone bust.

Taiwan Beer, which as the monopoly bureau’s brand once commanded 100% of the market, still dominates with around 75%. It is followed by imported American, European, Japanese (mostly now brewed in China), and Chinese beers, which share almost another quarter, with Wen and his fellow microbrewers accounting for less than 1%. Clearly they are not called “micro” for nothing, though they generally prefer the term “craft beer,” claiming that their smaller quantities allow them to focus more on quality.

Aiming at the under-40s market, 41-year-old Wen and his two employees make lychee- and melon-flavored brews at 4% strength, a “White” wheat beer at 5%, and two “Abbey” beers at 6 and 8%. The fruit flavors are his biggest sellers, particularly popular among Taiwan’s growing population of female beer drinkers, so he is working to expand his range with apple and other flavors. He is also formulating a stronger beer, probably around 10%, having noticed a trend in male drinkers for beers with an extra kick.

“None of these will appear until I am certain about the stability of their quality,” Wen says. “For a small producer trying to establish myself in a niche market, quality is paramount. Also, it might entail significant investment as I would need larger premises.”

North Taiwan Brewery is currently located in Xinzhuang in Taipei County, just across the Danshui River from the city proper. “It is illegal to brew beer in Taipei or any other Taiwan metropolis,” he explains, “only in industrial zones.”

[Photo: Le Ble D'or with distinctive swing-top cap from Jason's etc]

Similarly, while the main outlets for fellow microbreweries Jolly, Deluxe (www.deluxebeer.com.tw), and Le Blé D’or (www.lebledor.com.tw) are located in Taipei City, their beers are brewed in Taipei County’s Zhonghe, Tucheng, and Sanchong respectively. Taiwan Tobacco and Liquor Corp., the corporate, post-WTO incarnation of the former Monopoly Bureau, has also had to relocate its beer production from the prime Jianguo factory in central Taipei to Linkou and elsewhere.

Wen had originally wanted to call his beer “Taipei Beer,” but this was rejected by the licensing authority on the grounds that the Jianguo brewery was also known as the Taipei brewery, he says. His next application, for “Northern Taiwan,” was accepted, however, and he feels this is almost as good, since Taipei (台北; “Taiwan north”) and his “Bei-tai” (北台) brand merely have their characters reversed.

[Photo: LR Connie Guan of Guandu's 92 Shuiniao restaurant with her Shuiniao (Waterfowl) beer made by North Taiwan Brewery]

Around 70% of Wen’s outlets are in the Taipei area, he says. So far about 70 to 80 restaurants and shops are selling his bottled brews, either under his own brand names or their own, such as the Shuiniao Restaurant in Guandu that offers “Waterfowl” (水鳥) beer. Wen claims that these outlets contact him, and that he isn’t desperate to find more because that would mean expanding his operations and finding larger premises.

Nevertheless, with his beers gaining a growing following and with the apple-flavored brew almost ready for launch, Wen might not have much choice in the matter. Future plans also include a draft version of his beers for sale in bars, and with the shipment last month of the first export order to Singapore, overseas sales could be set to take off.

All in all, Wen gives the impression that he’s doing something he loves, but perhaps he’d still rather be making and drinking his homebrew than touting it in the fickle and faddish Taiwan marketplace.

Eddie Chang, founder, owner, and master brewer of Jolly Brewery and Restaurant (卓莉手工釀啤酒+泰食餐廳; www.jollys.tw), also clearly loves what he’s doing. But that’s about all he has in common with Wen Li-guo. Chang comes from the other end of the Taiwan-microbrewers spectrum. Rather than a hobby brewer turned professional, he’s a graduate of restaurant management who spotted a vacant niche in Taiwan’s densely populated food-and-beverage market and so turned to brewing. “To tell the truth, I don’t really drink beer,” he says. “Two small glasses get me drunk.”

Nevertheless, as a student in southern California he became fascinated by the microbrewing scene, with bars making beers in their basements and competing with the big players through local marketing and distinctive flavors and styles. Under the wing of one of his professors, Chang started experimenting with home brewing.

When he returned to Taiwan at the age of 31 in 1997, the monopoly was still in force, so he took a job with Thai Town restaurant. Chang knew that the alcohol monopoly would end one day, and probably sooner rather than later, so he continued his homebrew experiments courtesy of supplies sent by his Californian contacts. Finally, once the WTO negotiations were nearing a conclusion, Chang returned to the United States for an 18-month intensive qualification as a brewmaster at Siebel Institute of Technology.

The monopoly formally ended in January 2002, and by September of that year Chang’s Jolly Restaurant in Neihu (內湖) sold its first commercial beer. He says he chose Neihu because rents were cheaper than in central Taipei, and he found a suitable location in the new Donghu Road area where apartments were being purchased by professionals in his 30-45 target age range – people with sufficient disposable incomes and perhaps some knowledge of and interest in specialty brews. In 2005 he opened a second branch, this time in the downtown district near the Nanjing-Fuxing MRT station. “Qingcheng is a very unusual street, right near the MRT, but blocked off at one end so there aren’t too many cars, and with broad pavements suitable for walking,” he says. “So it is busy but not too busy.”

Jolly started with three brews: a 4.6% weizen, 5% pilsner and 5% pale ale. A stout at 6% was added in 2004, and a Scotch ale at 7.2% in 2006. In addition, Chang offers a “special brew.” In 2008 this was a Vienna-style lager, but Chang says he wanted to promote local produce, so in 2009 he switched to “honey ale” at 5.7%, and in July 2010 it will again change to passion fruit.

Chang says he listens to his customers’ suggestions a great deal, not just in regard to the next special brew, but for the layout of his restaurants, contents of his menus, and especially for the taste and quality of his beers. “This is something a small brewer can do more easily than a big company,” he says. And, as a consequence, his beers have matured over the years.

“I’ve altered some of the ingredients slightly,” Chang continues. “For example, I started by using dried yeast but later switched to a culture. I’ve also made changes to some of the timings and temperatures. Originally the mash temperatures were the same for all the beers, but altering them up or down within a two-degree range has helped improve the flavors.”

Jolly’s weizen beer has always been the customers’ favorite, accounting for around 25% of all sales. “It’s not too bitter, so it suits Taiwanese tastes,” Chang says. Second is the pilsner, perhaps because it is closest to the beers Taiwanese drinkers are most familiar with, or perhaps just reflecting the fact that pilsners are the world’s most popular beers. The stronger Scotch ale – Chang’s personal favorite for its malty, sweeter flavor – comes next, followed by the pale ale, with the stout and special brew bringing up the rear at about 7% of sales each. Still, Chang has no intention of dropping them from his beer list. “I want to offer customers as wide a choice as possible,” he says.

He brews a 1,000-liter batch of weizen every three weeks or so, and one of stout every couple of months. Last year he produced around 43,000 liters of beer for his two restaurants, though some is discarded so that only the freshest beers reach his customers.

“We don’t filter the beer or use high temperatures to kill the yeast, so it’s still present in the beer, adding to the flavor. This does mean the beer has a shorter shelf life than commercial brands, however, and needs to be stored at less than 5℃,” Chang says. This also explains his reluctance to move into bottled beer. “Yes, we could increase our profits by tapping into the huge take-out market, but at a risk to our quality and therefore a risk to our brand image.”

Nevertheless, he is looking at that possibility, but the most likely next move for Jolly will be opening another branch, perhaps in Taichung. Like most microbreweries, Chang would like to brew on the premises, not so much to save on transportation costs, but rather to put on a show for customers, and even to teach them something about home brewing.

Despite the Californian bars that were his early influence, Chang has designed his spaces with families in mind, making them well lit and using lighter colors for decoration. The name Jolly is meant to personify this atmosphere, and it is the attitude he tries to instill in his staff. Moreover, the bars do not dominate the restaurants; indeed, these are restaurants rather than pubs. He decided on Thai cuisine, partly because of his experience in that field but also because the spicy and sour flavors were similar enough to Chinese food but still exotic. Unfortunately for him, Taiwan has seen an explosion in Thai restaurants since Jolly opened in 2002, many of them selling cut-price cuisine. Nevertheless, Chang’s restaurants are always busy and he hasn’t considered switching menus.

“Thai food and beer makes a great combination,” he says. “And although I don’t drink much beer myself, I get a lot of pleasure watching customers enjoy their food and drink.”

So what is the future for Taiwan’s small microbrewing scene?

Not much, according to Michel Blanc, owner of The Tavern and Capone’s bars. He doesn’t sell them himself, although he says he would like to, and has long dreamed of having his own label on a locally produced microbrewed beer. But consistency remains a formidable challenge for the microbrewers, he says. “They cannot maintain a stable quality, and they won’t be able to while they produce such small quantities – and they won’t be able to produce large quantities because there simply isn’t the market for it.”

This is something of a catch-22 situation for the microbrewers. With their low capitalization, they cannot afford the promotional activities of the likes of Taiwan Beer or Heineken. But with only word-of-mouth, their growth is slow. Twenty-something Jenny Chiang is typical of Taiwan’s new generation of drinkers, opting for a sweeter, lower-alcohol, fruit-flavored beer when she goes out at the weekend. For her this means drinking an imported beer, however, as the only Taiwan beer she has ever heard of is Taiwan Beer.

Nevertheless, the microbrewers might be threatening to make a small dent in Taiwan Beer’s market, because the former monopoly brewer has recently launched a “craft beer” available at its Hualien Winery plant and selected outlets. On the other hand, one of the first new companies to start up after the WTO-led breaking of he monopoly, Taiwan Micro Brewing Company based in Kaohsiung, which made designer craft beers for restaurants and bars in Taiwan’s four largest cities, has already closed down. So recently did the Deluxe bar in Taipei Arena.

And what about Taiwan’s home brewers? Will one of them emerge as the next Wen or Chang? To judge from the lively discussions on internet forums, many foreign visitors to Taiwan, particularly those in the recently graduated English-teaching crowd, are keen to keep up their home-brewing hobby. But these threads mostly end in frustration, since ingredients such as malt and hops, as well as equipment, are not readily available in Taiwan. Even when they are obtained from abroad, the island’s tropical and subtropical climate is not conducive to most types of beer making. The best bet seems to be making ale, which ferments at around 18-24℃ compared with 10℃ for lagers, and doing it in the winter. The only good news is that the former gray legal area is now clearly articulated in black and white: Anyone can make batches of beer up to 100 liters, even in Taipei City. Happy experimentation.

fish of the day

tile mural at Taiping Elementary School in Taipei's Datong district

I have long been a collector (photographically, not lumps of concrete) of this form of children's art

here's a second fish-themed example from the same school:

fish of the day

smoked shark stall at the Mazu Temple food market in Taipei's Datong district

fish of the day

man slicing mullet roe (烏魚子) at Dihau St.

fish of the day

German-(style?) gummi's the rage this year at Dihua St. (迪化街) New Year provisions (年貨) market

fish of the day

Travel-in-Taiwan colleagues almost getting in the fish tank at their weiya (尾牙)