Nanu, who in Han society goes by the name Lin Chen Mei-shan (林陳美珊), is a lively character. That much I could tell within a few minutes of meeting her halfway up a small mountain in Taitung County.
Of mixed Paiwan and Pinuyumayan indigenous descent, Nanu styles herself “the Wild Vegetable Queen” (野菜皇后, wildveggiequeen.com). Welcoming us in English that was strongly accented and unrestrained by the conventions of grammar, yet up to the task and endearingly confident, she offered us gumboots, which in the end weren’t needed.
Then she told us that, before we could go any further, a Paiwan elder would conduct a short rite to ensure our safety — and that sneezing while in the mountains is taboo.
Photo: Steven Crook
First, he placed an offering of betel nuts, cigarettes and millet wine at the base of a boulder incised with the name of the place we’d be heading toward, but not actually reaching. Then the man quickly performed the necessary formalities, stating the size of our party and our purpose to any supernatural beings who might be listening.
Tribal shtick to entertain outsiders or a sincere attempt to communicate with the spirit world? It wouldn’t surprise me if, in the 21st century, Taiwan’s indigenous people are like many of their Han compatriots: Far from obsessive when it comes to religious customs or taboos, but inclined to err on the side of caution. Whether that’s the case or not, I’m all for including such traditions when it comes to designing experiences for tourists.
According to one bilingual signpost, the trail that ends at Balang Archaeological Site (巴蘭遺址, “Palan Site” on some signs) is 1,143 meters in length. Nanu, who was assisted on the day of our visit by the equally upbeat Jessica Hsieh (謝京潁), told us that we’d be going about halfway to the site.
Photo: Steven Crook
Our session with the Wild Vegetable Queen came near the end of a three-day trip to Taitung. Each of the stops introduced us to a tourism business that has benefited from the Cross-Generational Bilingual Training Program, a government-sponsored project that aims to make the southeastern county more accessible to travelers who don’t speak Mandarin.
Soon enough, Nanu called us to a halt, and pointed out a plant that’s known to scientists as Dendrocnide meyeniana, and to English speakers as poisonous wood nettle. It gets its unforgettable Chinese name — yaorengou (咬人狗), literally “biting-people dog” — because of the seriousness of its sting. Hikers unlucky enough to brush its leaves often suffer days of soreness.
It looks quite different from (and less “nettly” than) the more-common Urtica thunbergiana (aka: yaorenmao, 咬人貓, “biting-people cat”), which some Westerners know as the Japanese nettle or hairy nettle.
Photo: Steven Crook
Fortunately, the forest contains a natural treatment that can help Dendrocnide meyeniana victims. Snapping a Giant Elephant’s Ear (Alocasia odora) stem and rubbing the sap on the rash can bring some relief, Nanu informed us. I was keen to hear everything she had to say, but more than once I was distracted by the sight of a gorgeous butterfly. If you’re a Lepidoptera fan, you might want to come to this verdant corner of Taiwan just to see the butterflies.
The trail is fairly steep, and after a while we could see a tiny patch of the Pacific, about 14 kilometers southwest of us as the crow flies. Passing a relief image of a tribesman carved onto a man-sized boulder, Nanu explained that it’s a recent work, and that the two eagle’s feathers in the man’s headdress signify that he’s been recognized as an effective hunter.
Another plant with medicinal functions found hereabouts is Apple-of-Peru (Nicandra physalodes). Nanu said that boiling its leaves makes a liquid that can soothe a sore throat. According to online sources, the plant can also be used as a sedative and to reduce coughing. Its fruit can reduce inflammation and flatulence, while the seeds have a diuretic effect.
Photo: Steven Crook
The English-language leaflet we were given at the start of the walk mentions several other wild plants or trees for which indigenous people have discovered culinary, medicinal or other uses. Among them are myrtle, mulberry and rattan.
For generations, Taiwan’s indigenous people have been turning rattan vines into hats and baskets. The handmade balls which play a central role in the Paiwan tribe’s Five-Year Ceremony (see “A quinquennial spectacle: The Paiwan Malijeveq Festival” in the Nov. 3, 2023 issue of this newspaper) are also made of rattan. The Amis people eat tender rattan shoots.
In no time at all, we were at a clearing where a campfire smoldered and benches provided an opportunity to take the weight off our feet. After serving coffee and a wild-plant tea, Nanu and her friends demonstrated a herbal compress made from locally-gathered botanicals, and presented us with gifts of soap made from some of the same ingredients.
Photo: Steven Crook
It was a delightful spot to relax, and surprisingly free of mosquitoes. But as far as bloodsuckers go, in summertime it’s a very different story, Nanu assured me.
When I’m next in East Taiwan, hopefully I’ll be able to hike all the way to Balang Archaeological Site, 625m above sea level and just over three kilometers due west of Chulu Junior High School (初鹿國中) and Provincial Highway 9.
The site was rediscovered by archaeologists in 1996 after a Pinuyumayan church elder named Tseng Chien-tzu (曾建次) recognized artifacts being sold in a Taitung night market. He made enquiries, and eventually discovered they’d been pilfered from this location. Some years later, an official excavation identified parts of seven houses and more than a dozen tombs.
Judging by images recently posted online, some of these remnants are still clearly visible, and the view while walking up looks enticing. I reckon I could happily spend a morning getting to and looking around the site. But even if the idea of foraging for my lunch sounds like fun, I think I’ll just carry the usual convenience-store snacks.
The Democratic Progressive Party (DPP), Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT), and the country’s other political groups dare not offend religious groups, says Chen Lih-ming (陳立民), founder of the Taiwan Anti-Religion Alliance (台灣反宗教者聯盟). “It’s the same in other democracies, of course, but because political struggles in Taiwan are extraordinarily fierce, you’ll see candidates visiting several temples each day ahead of elections. That adds impetus to religion here,” says the retired college lecturer. In Japan’s most recent election, the Liberal Democratic Party lost many votes because of its ties to the Unification Church (“the Moonies”). Chen contrasts the progress made by anti-religion movements in
Taiwan doesn’t have a lot of railways, but its network has plenty of history. The government-owned entity that last year became the Taiwan Railway Corp (TRC) has been operating trains since 1891. During the 1895-1945 period of Japanese rule, the colonial government made huge investments in rail infrastructure. The northern port city of Keelung was connected to Kaohsiung in the south. New lines appeared in Pingtung, Yilan and the Hualien-Taitung region. Railway enthusiasts exploring Taiwan will find plenty to amuse themselves. Taipei will soon gain its second rail-themed museum. Elsewhere there’s a number of endearing branch lines and rolling-stock collections, some
This was not supposed to be an election year. The local media is billing it as the “2025 great recall era” (2025大罷免時代) or the “2025 great recall wave” (2025大罷免潮), with many now just shortening it to “great recall.” As of this writing the number of campaigns that have submitted the requisite one percent of eligible voters signatures in legislative districts is 51 — 35 targeting Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus lawmakers and 16 targeting Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) lawmakers. The pan-green side has more as they started earlier. Many recall campaigns are billing themselves as “Winter Bluebirds” after the “Bluebird Action”
Feb 24 to March 2 It’s said that the entire nation came to a standstill every time The Scholar Swordsman (雲州大儒俠) appeared on television. Children skipped school, farmers left the fields and workers went home to watch their hero Shih Yen-wen (史艷文) rid the world of evil in the 30-minute daily glove puppetry show. Even those who didn’t speak Hoklo (commonly known as Taiwanese) were hooked. Running from March 2, 1970 until the government banned it in 1974, the show made Shih a household name and breathed new life into the faltering traditional puppetry industry. It wasn’t the first