Three Days in Yilan: Request for a goddess

Rain falling throughout the night had flooded the surrounding fields. With only a few days to go before the start of my cycling trip, the typhoon was starting to worry me.

Breakfast at the Frog - Photo: JSBAfter a fine breakfast - something for which the Frog Pool is justly known - Cheng-shu picked me up for the long drive ahead. My final day in Yilan would begin with a visit to the village of Dong Yue to see how the Atayal, one of Taiwan's aboriginal tribes, were using tourism as a vehicle for strengthening their own cultural traditions.

The drive down the winding, narrow coastal highway that stretches along the coast between Suao and Hualien feels dodgy on a good day and perilous in the rain, which was coming down heavily as we approached the station after nearly an hour on the road.

There we were met by Yo Gan, a cheerful Atayal wearing a transparent yellow rain poncho over shorts and a t-shirt. He seemed used to wet weather, and told me that he'd spent three months in Tacoma and Seattle as part of his military duty with the Taiwanese navy. But the weather was concerning him as well, and Yo Gan said that of the day's activities-including a nature walk - had already been canceled. But there'd still be singing, a meal and a lesson in preparing Jutongfan, a traditional dish comprised of rice or millet steamed in a bamboo tube. I asked Yo Gan if there'd be roast wild mountain pig, something I'd enjoyed in other tribal communities in Taiwan but he shook his head.

"It's been a while since we had one of those," he said.

Preparing the feast. Photo: Li Cheng-shuThe feast site was quiet when we arrived. I chatted with Su Xiuli, a Han woman who told me that she was Atayal by marriage and that she was far happier living in rural Dong Yue.

She'd just started to introduce me to some of the foods we'd be eating when our conversation was cut short by canned tribal music blaring over the the loudspeakers, indicating that the other guests - a group of tourists from Guangdong - had arrived.

What followed was something of a staged affair featuring a small song and dance routine, more canned tribal music and a fair chunk of cultural Disneyfication.

The food was excellent, but the event struck me as being more than a little staged. Perhaps sensing my cynicism, Yo Gan came and sat next to me, speaking over the music and general din from the mainland tourists.

"You'd asked about the wild mountain pig," he began. "The truth is, not a lot of Atayal people know about trapping mountain pig anymore, especially not those under 30. But skills like that, and like this…"


He gestured at the prepared meal now being consumed by voracious Chinese tourists, including wild harvested giant snails, smoked river fish with green pepper, Okra with pork and onions.

Yogan schools me. Photo: Li Cheng-shu"Part of the reason a lot of Atayal under thirty know how to cook dishes like these is due to outsiders' willingness to pay for the experience of indigenous culture. In many ways, tourism is a main driver in the passing down of the old skills."

We finished our meal-which of course, included zhutongfan and thanking our hosts, left before so as not to get stuck behind the tour bus.

The rain was coming down more heavily, so we headed to Nanfang'ao to visit the town's famous Matsu Temple.
Distorted Panorama of Nanfang'ao harbor. Photo by JosambroThere are many temples in Taiwan dedicated to the Goddess, whose domain is all things nautical, but the one in Nanfang'ao ranks as the most important. As we walked towards the five story temple that looks out over the village harbor, now packed with small crafts seeking shelter from the storm, Cheng-shu explained why this was.

"About 30 years ago, the coast guard intercepted a smuggling ship coming from China, and found five ancient statues of Matsu on board. As this was during a time when the old religions were still frowned upon in China, an arrangement was made to keep them in town rather than sending them back. This has made this Matsu temple a very important one."

Climbing the stairs to the uppermost shrine, I made a humble donation and asked Matsu if she'd consider steering the brunt of the storm in another direction, for the sake of my upcoming bicycle trip.

We spent another hour exploring Nanfang'ao before heading to Yilan for one final stop before dinner.

Some cultural cross-dressing. Photo: Chengshu LiFilled with costumes and scenery, the Taiwan Theater Museum is dedicated to keeping the traditions of Taiwanese opera, theater and puppetry alive. The two story museum displays puppets, sets and costumes spanning several generations of Taiwanese theater.


From the museum we headed to Luodong for dinner at the Luodong Night Market. Though not the most famous of Taiwan's many nocturnal outdoor eating streets, Luodong's night market is famous for great food and boisterous energy. On some nights can easily become one of the most crowded spots in greater Yilan.

Cheng-shu and I ate grilled oysters, deep fried squid and a few items I'd not seen elsewhere, including a hand sized deep fried dumpling with vegetables, shrimp and oysters that any cardiologist would advise against.

Grilled Oysters. Photo: Li Cheng-shu
Seafood dumplings prior to frying. Photo: Josambro
It was still raining, albeit with less intensity than it had been that morning, when Cheng-shu dropped me off for my final night at the Frog Pool. Before going to sleep I consulted my mobile phone's weather tracking app and was surprised to find that the storm bearing down on Taiwan seemed to have moved slightly southward.

Perhaps Matsu had heard my prayers after all, or maybe it was just wishful thinking. One thing was for sure - If the storm did hit, forcing the group currently en-route to Taiwan to delay their eleven-day cycling tour, I now had a place to bring them to pass the time, a place with excellent food, views and hot springs. A perfect place to sit out the storm, not in Taipei but just next door.