In October 2020, when Taiwan’s Azure Alliance launched a fundraising campaign aimed at removing trash from the ocean, the public responded. With more than 5000 people donating in excess of NT$15 million to the endeavor, the alliance vowed to go every step of the way to achieving the campaign’s goal. For all that the marine environment is worsening, at least there are people acknowledging the problem and attempting to do something about it.
In the depths of the Yilan countryside, the sounds of a steel tongue drum ring through the air, its ethereal melody gently beckoning.
In 1995, fisherman Huang Jiajin, who was hailed by Penghu residents as a master scuba diver, happened upon a forgotten sunken ship and ancient treasures on the ocean floor while diving in the waters off Penghu’s Jiangjun’ao Islet. After the authorities were informed, they began an investigation of the wreck, and this marked the start of underwater archaeology in Taiwan.
The Covid-19 pandemic has raged across the planet, causing millions of deaths and serious economic harm to countries worldwide. In these difficult circumstances, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the International Cooperation and Development Fund have embarked on a campaign of “pandemic diplomacy,” making use of Taiwan’s experience to provide humanitarian care.
The Taiwan Dive Center, the largest institution for diving instruction in Taiwan, has a mission: “To bring the ocean into your life.” They want to enable every Taiwanese person to experience this island’s beautiful sea up close, and to make everyone who has gotten to know it into a protector of the ocean.
In elementary school he made his first kezaixian (coconut-shell fiddle), and in junior high school he sang in “Qianwang Ge” shows, funereal song and dance performances intended to comfort the deceased’s soul and guide it to the land of eternal bliss. Now in his thirties, Lin Zongfan has handcrafted more than 200 traditional musical instruments, and has even recruited a troupe of youngsters to perform Qianwang Ge.
Surrounded on all sides by water, Taiwan’s residents enjoy nearly 1600 kilometers of coastline, and few live more than a short distance from the sea. But Taiwanese people have long been taught about the dangers of the ocean, which makes them keep their distance from it.
Professor Su Tar-zen breaks down the barrier of fear between the Taiwanese and the ocean with a three-step process: “understand, get close, love.” He feels that the Taiwanese ought by nature to be a people of the sea.
Even though the Kurdish people, like the Taiwanese, live in Asia, talk of them often stays focused on stereotypes like war, refugees, terrorist attacks, and ethnic cleansing. Zanst Othman, who comes from Iraq’s autonomous Kurdistan Region and married a woman from Taiwan, has written a book about his homeland based on first-hand experiences. Not only does it overturn prejudices, but it also amazes readers by showing how similar Taiwan and Kurdistan really are after all.
Few people know about the Yunnan-Burma border soldiers. At the close of the Chinese Civil War, the Government of the Republic of China relocated to Taiwan, while these guerrilla forces stayed behind, fighting in various places along the border between southern China’s Yunnan Province and Burma (now Myanmar). Eventually they too withdrew to Taiwan.
Trekking in the mountains is a demanding pastime. For some trekkers, those demands are the point. They love that the pursuit requires them to be mutually supportive, to confront their weaknesses, and to become better communicators. A group of just this kind of trekkers founded the Taiwan Wilderness Education Association with the intention of using guided treks to lead people on a journey of self-discovery and personal improvement.
