Tuesday, August 02, 2005

A long journey south

In southern Taiwan, you see the 'real' Taiwan.

Just returned from a 10day trip to the south of the country, mostly to visit relatives, but also to do some sightseeing. Going to the villages, mountains and temples in the south, you notice what a rich country this is...full of culture, history, natural beauty and kind-hearted people.
Local deities and gods now and then go leave their temples and travel around the country on carriages and in processions attended by hundreds, if not thousands, of devotees. This is known as chu shun (出巡), which is Taiwanese for "going out and surveying the land"). As I travelled the country, I too have the feeling that I am 'going out and surveying' my land. Though I may not carry the blessings and great ceremonies of the gods wherever I go, I do take with me images and sounds of a land and people I grow to love with each step.

First stop, Chiayi 嘉義, a city some 250 km south of Taipei. Both my parents come from this city surrounded by mountains and lakes. Almost all of my relatives live in Chiayi, and many places are filled with childhood memories. Especially the house of my big aunt (father's side) is like a treasure room full of pictures, broken toys and Doraemon comics. Also the house of my grandparents (father's side) is a place where I have spent weeks with my beloved late grandmother each time I am in Taiwan.

On my dad's side, I have three aunts and two uncles, while on my mum's side, there are three aunts and two uncles. So, though I was in the south for ten days, each day and night was tightly filled with people to visit, elaborate dinners and lunches to attend, and places to pay homage to. Because of the difficult situation between my parents, at times I felt the need to calculate the amount of time I spent with each side of the distant family... it's difficult, and grown-ups often don't seem to realise the amount of damage they cause for the 'children' like me, with their trivial arguments, predjudices and dislikes of the 'other side'. The ugly side of not being able to choose your relatives, thus.

Conversations were about life abroad, my studies, and hopes. Not much seemed to have changed. My uncles and relatives are still the same old themselves. My cousins have grown so much that they are no longer the short and weak-looking primary school children I rememeber from last time. I spent much time reconnecting with the cousins, going out with them, playing with them, and discovering more of what family means.

Dad's worsening wellbeing dominated much of the conversation. Everyone seems to be very worried, as dad is visibly much thinner and dark-faced nowadays than just a few months ago. Numerous times I had to swallow my tears as my relatives talked about their worries. Brave boys don't cry. But dad does not seem to take his illness seriously, and does not want to talk about it at all. From my mum, I hear he has severe diabetes, lever disease and lever cancer. Though he was operated recently (without me or anyone in the family knowing), things are looking bleak. One night, while with my big aunt and uncle, I no longer could hold back my tears. Brave boys don't cry. But I do. Out of care, love, feelings so deeply entrenched and memories so immortally caught, and that very Chinese idea of 'filial piety' (孝) I feel towards my parents and family. When dad left home a few years ago, to where nobody has any idea, I've been seeing less of him and hearing less and less from him. When he left, he left the family in a bitter and angry state. Of four people in the family, I'm the only one who is willing to contact him. With his deteriotating health, and his insistance that nothing is wrong with him, each time I see him makes me dread it may be the last.

The last few years seem like a nightmare, as I was seemingly made to choose sides, to relay messages, to build bridges and make 'peace' between either side. Often, just hearing people talk about all that's going on would make me phsysically sick, and fill with anger. That night, I spilled out my pain and tears... why do I visit temples so often and pray before the deities and gods? Why do I wake up early in the morning and rush to the ancestorial altar to offer my blessings? Not for my sake, but for the sake of my mum and dad. All I wish is that they, and especially my dad, could live a healthy and happy life. No longer do I wish that my family could be whole and happy, as I did before as a child. But I do wish that things could end peacefully and gracefully, as the saying 好聚好散 (hao3 ju4 hao3 shan4: 'meeting under good circumstances, parting under good circumstances') captures. As my aunt and uncle comforted the sobbing me that night, they presented me with a shor saying but powerful saying which captured the moment: 儘人事 聽天命 (do the best one as human could achieve, listen to the order/life as destined by the heavens'). There only so much I can do, so much I can say and achieve...all the rest is but destiny.

Despite all this drama, I did manage to escape into the cool and calm of the surrounding countryside. In Baihe 白河 (White River), I enjoyed the serene beauty of lotus fields. In Guanzhilin 關子領, I bathed in a mud hot-spring, while overlooking the great rice fields reflecting in the sunset. In Beigang (北港, North Port) and Mamingshan 馬鳴山, I trailed the paths pilgrims from afar have graced throughout the centuries by paying homage to ancient temples and sacred sanctuaries. In Janfushan Theme Park 劍湖山, I rode thrilling rides, watched acrobatic performances, and displays of 'dancing water' and laser shows, and walked along colourfully lit pathways at night.

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