Taiwan: High Culture
man wrestles a mountain boar to the ground. A housewife collects wild vegetables for dinner. A pair of hunters armed with rifles wade upriver, searching for squirrels and deer. It's not how the world imagines Taiwanese life – but like nine-tenths of Sanmin's inhabitants, all these people are Taiwanese aborigines. Han Chinese cram the island's lowlands; but in the mountainous interior there are regions, like Sanmin, dominated by people of Austronesian ancestry who still speak their original dialects. In fact, some scholars believe that Taiwan was the cradle of the Austronesian language family.
When Han migrants began moving across the Taiwan Straits in large numbers in the 17th century, Taiwan's indigenous peoples either assimilated or retreated inland. Like the aboriginal people of Australia or the First Nations of North America, Taiwan's aborigines now make up a small minority of the island's population: just 500,000 of its 23 million people. Also in common with those minorities, they are less likely to go to university or secure jobs. But despite all this they have enjoyed disproportionate success in the fields of sports and entertainment. The best-known Taiwanese pop princess of the last 10 years, Zhang Hui-mei (known by her fans as A Mei) is a member of the Puyuma tribe, one of 12 indigenous groups recognised by the authorities.
Sanmin's topography is spectacular. The lowest point, the fast-running Nanzihxian River, is at an altitude of 430 metres; the highest, the peak of Mount Xinwangling, is 2,481 metres above sea level. The steep hillsides are a mixture of orchards, temperate forests, patches of near-jungle and cascading waterfalls.
Naturally, such a landscape lends itself to hiking, white-water rafting, and ecotourism. There are similar aboriginal districts in Taiwan – but others are either overrun by tourists, like Taroko Gorge and Wulai, or difficult to access because of complex permit requirements. Moreover, Sanmin is uniquely multicultural. After the original Zou tribe was ravaged by disease, Bunun families moved in. These two tribes now account for one-sixth and two-thirds respectively of Sanmin's population. Later, Atayal aborigines from Taiwan's northwest arrived; there are also members of other tribes who married into Sanmin families, plus a few hundred Han Chinese. That's pretty diverse for a population of only 3,400.
But this intense multiculturalism lies a little beneath the surface. Follow the Nanzihxian upriver and you'll pass through four settlements: Minzu (or Nangisalu, its Bunun aboriginal name); Minquan (Mangchu); and the first and second villages of Minsheng (Takanua). Except on festival days, or when attending church (most of Taiwan's indigenous people are Christian), you won't see people sporting their distinctive and colourful tribal costumes. Most are farming folk – growing fruit, vegetables or coffee – and dress accordingly. Equally disappointing to the romantic visitor is the almost complete absence of traditional architecture. Most aborigines live in concrete-box houses with tin roofs; the handful of bamboo or wooden structures were built with tourists in mind and are often crammed with faux-traditional carvings and motifs.
Fortunately for visitors, however, there has been a revival of interest in aboriginal culture in recent years. Sanmin hosts several festivals each year which are open to the public and reflect the diversity of the district's inhabitants without turning them into anthropological curiosities.
The most important is the Da'er (literally, 'hit the ear') Festival, usually held in May or June. This has nothing to do with noisy percussion music, but consists of young Bunun tribesman showing off their archery skills in an attempt to hit a pig's ear nailed to a stake. In 2004, all of Taiwan's mountain tribes were invited to send representatives, increasing the significance if not the authenticity of the event. Other festivals include a millet festival each August and a river festival every September, both Zou traditions. And at midnight on Christmas Eve the entire community walks through the streets holding candles and singing carols.
All that archery and carol singing can be hungry work, so festivals are a good time to sample Bunun and Zou cooking. At first glance, this may look surprisingly similar to Taiwanese cuisine. But much of the meat is shot or trapped and has a gamier taste. At large gatherings, the tables are filled with flying squirrel, mountain boar, deer, rats and mountain birds. If that isn't adventurous enough for you, you can chew on raw pickled flying-squirrel intestines or a dish called simply 'stinky meat'. This is meat that has been left in the trap for a while and has started to rot. More shocking than this, it's actually delicious – but don't over-indulge, or you could still be smelling it the next day.
Shoppers as well as gourmands will find something in Sanmin to tickle their fancy. Maya Workshop, Dream Workshop and Ribuluo Workshop (see Essentials) all sell local arts, aboriginal-style bags, handmade belts, clothing and leather items. It's also worth checking out the pottery workshop in Minquan, where local artists and their teacher, Hai Sul, work clay.
At first glance, Hai looks more like a policeman than an artist. In fact, he's both. The police job pays the bills, but pots are his passion. A dark, stocky man with muscular hands, Hai studied pottery a decade ago while serving as a cop in the lowland city of Tainan. Later returning to his birthplace in the mountains, he was re-inspired by his Bunun culture, which he has worked into his pottery to impressive effect. He has been exhibiting islandwide since 1997, and is becoming well known – but not enough to give up the day job yet. In fact he appreciates the freedom a regular income gives him: he works according to his inspiration and for the works own sake.
If Sanmin's cultural attractions can keep you busy for a week, the natural attractions should occupy you for a month. You'll need to get away from the roads and into the forests, where you may encounter some of Sanmin's 29 mammal species (including monkeys, deer and boar); 97 bird species (including the Plumbeous Water Redstart, the Little Forktail, the Gray-Throated Minivet and the Formosan Whistling Thrush); 16 amphibians and no fewer than 30 reptiles.
To maximise your chances of close encounters with some of those birds, plus ten species of freshwater fish, visit the 274-hectare Nanzihxian River Wildlife Refuge. Serious birdwatchers should procure the services of a local guide who will lead them to the best spots.
Visitors used to well-maintained, well-signposted national park trails should take care if they go hiking in Sanmin. Many of the routes are no more than rustic hunting paths, and the foliage can be dense. But there are clearer trails to the bamboo-covered peak of Second River Mountain, and to the much higher summit of Mount Xinwangling.
If you prefer to hike just a short distance, look for the easy-to-reach Sanming Fire near Minquan. Here flames spontaneously erupt out of the hillside at a spot where methane and pitch meet at the surface. It's also a good place for seeing butterflies and, appropriately, fireflies.
The district's most popular sight is perhaps Phoenix Waterfall. The cascade is impressive all year round, particularly in the wetter months of summer. A trail climbs up one side of the waterfall to the forest above.
With this assortment of natural and cultural wonders, Sanmin is a convenient microcosm of aboriginal Taiwan. But one of its greatest attractions is simply the warmth and friendliness of its people. If you're invited to drink with the locals, accept the invitation: you'll enjoy warm hospitality, polite curiosity, possibly some traditional singing and, thanks to the local san di jiu, very likely a headache the next day. Never mind – a hill walk is just the thing for a hangover.
