Setsubun, Risshin & Formatting Updates

Greetings all!
Sorry I haven't updated in a couple weeks. I've still got some things to share from my experience in Taiwan, and I recently spent the evening at Eiheiji learning zazen (meditation).

In the meantime, I've made some changes to the format of this blog. You'll notice along the left hand side that links to other blogs have changed, and you now can see a list of labels. I added that for easy archiving purposes. Now, if you want to see anything I've written about something like temples or festivals, all you have to do is click on the label for temples or festivals. I also inserted a translation service at the bottom of the page.

While looking through the archives I noticed that some pictures seemed to have disappeared. I checked my storage limit, and I really don't know why this has happened. While looking up the storage limit, however, I found out that all the pictures I post here automatically get sent to an online photo storage service. If I ever organize that, I'll post a link.

Now, on to some updates:

This is a photograph I took in January shortly after returning from my travels. We had a decent amount of snow for probably less than two weeks in Fukui City. Then, it warmed up just enough to change to rain, and all the snow disappeared.

I noticed something with the snowfall this year that I don't recall from last year - THUNDER. Turns out that Western Japan is one of three places in the world where it can thunder while snowing.
February 3rd was setsubun this year. (click here for old post on setsubun). It's the end of winter on the lunar calendar, and people celebrate by tossing beans to ward off demons. I decided to check out events at a local shrine but heard the wrong starting time and showed up just as it ended.The day after setsubun is called risshin. This is the first day of spring on the lunar calendar. I believe it snowed on this day last year.

花蓮: Formosa Entry #3

Continuing with the Formosan photography sessions, here are some shots from the city of 花蓮 (Hualien).
Looks like the Jews were just a little misdirected. Should've fled Egypt a bit a further to the east.

When the Portuguese first spotted the island of Taiwan in the 16th century, they dubbed it "Ilha Formosa" meaning simply, "Beautiful Island". That name, "Formosa" (Beautiful), remained in common use even into the late 20th century. Not quite as epic as "the promised land", but flattering, nevertheless.
Hualien lies on the East Coast and serves as a point of entry into the Taroko National Park. The beaches are too rocky for swimming, but, on the other hand, the naturally occurring variety of colours in the rock and large reserves of marble make for some nice jewelry and statues.

Hualien is the origin point of Tzu Chi, a large international Buddhist missions organization that focuses on medicine, education and disaster relief. Due to its apolitical stance, Tzu Chi has been able to work extensively in mainland China in spite of often bitter political tensions that may prevent businesses and government organizations from venturing across the strait.

This picture was taken just outside of Hualien in the national park. Taiwan, like Japan, is filled with mountains and prone to typhoons. This trail used to lead to a natural hot spring, but rock slides and typhoons about four years ago have caused it to close. At the time of the rock slide, several people were actually in the hot spring and some of them were killed.

Beauty, it seems, is not without its dangers.

Taroko Gorge: Formosa Entry #2

Here are some more pictures from the national park I mentioned in the previous entry.

This is the inside of the pagoda that you can see in the background of the temple picture in the first entry.

And here's the view from the top of the pagoda. A sign at the temple said that the Buddha statue holds a world record for being at the highest altitude of any Buddhist statue of that type.

我們都是一家人: Formosa Entry #1

The holidays are over, and now I'll be posting about Taiwan over the next couple weeks.
I could introduce my venture with information about the island, but I decided instead to begin with the story of my first couple days.

I've been on many good trips by myself. I often find the solitude and freedom of traveling alone to be preferable to having to suffer the whims and whimpering of a group. With that being said, I also find that when you leave yourself open to adaptation and accept situations as they come, you never really travel alone. This trip is, perhaps, the best example of that to come from my experience.

The overall impression I had throughout my time in Taiwan was that someone had been waiting for me to arrive. Rather than a first trip, it felt like the island was greeting me with a hug and saying, "Welcome back. We've missed you."

Frankly, it caught me off guard.
Anyway, on to the first couple days (I insert spur of the moment thoughts in italics).

Remember, you can click on the pictures to view them in a larger format.
I arrived in Taipei in late afternoon, spent the night in a cheap hostel with no windows or shower curtains and skipped out early in the morning for the East Coast city of Hualien. Hualien is known to tourists mostly as the starting point for trips into Taroko National Park, a cascade of mountains and marble cliffs surrounding a highway that runs along a river gorge (these pictures). The park has also been home to a few of Taiwan's dwindling indigenous groups, some of whom were headhunters until the Japanese colonial government outlawed the practice less than one hundred years ago.

That afternoon I walked along the shoreline and tasted various delicacies on sticks at street markets. When I returned to my hostel I met my two roommates for the evening, an engineer from Singapore and a Guatemalan graduate student who is currently living near Tokyo. The next morning the three of us set out for Taroko.
The advantage to tagging along with someone from Singapore while in Taiwan is that Mandarin is an official language in both places. The night before our trek into the national park he was of great help in our trio's quest to sample food from every vendor that the hostel recommended.

At 06h30 we took the first bus up the gorge highway and began our day in Taroko. There's not much to say about hiking along the highway and side trails except that the scenery is wonderful and public transportation is hard to find. Sure, there are group tours you can take, but then you have to deal with group tourists.

After trekking at least 20 km (13 miles), we found ourselves tired and unsure of where the local buses would stop. We decided to try to hitch a ride to the nearest bus stop. After several cars passed us over the lad from Singapore reassured us saying, "Whatever you believe in just have faith. It'll work out."
Yeah, sure, who wouldn't want to pick up three strangers while driving in the mountains far away from the city?
Taiwan did not seem to understand my mind's intrinsic need for sarcasm and cynicism.

Shortly after my Chinese-speaking comrade's religious appeal someone did, indeed, stop to give us a lift. A woman, her husband and a friend pulled over, and, in the course of highway conversation, revealed that not only did they normally not pick up hitchhikers, but they also had passed over someone along the road just before finding us.

"This is fate," said the lady at the wheel, "we were supposed to meet each other."
Arrrgh, cynic senses are tingling. People just don't talk like this unless if...oh, no...it can't be!
I'm surrounded by Buddhist missionaries!

As it turns out, only the driver was actually a Buddhist missionary, and, technically she wasn't so much a missionary as a volunteer for a Buddhist charity organization that builds hospitals and schools around the world. Her husband, we soon realized was actually a Japanese man who spoke no Mandarin. They normally reside in Japan but had recently purchased a house in her hometown of Hualien and were vacationing for a few months.

She offered us the chance to stay at her place for the same cost as the hostel and promised to donate all the money to her charity. Although I had planned to return to the Taipei that evening, I altered my schedule to allow for a Hualien homestay.

That night, as we were sitting around chatting in a mix of English, Japanese and Mandarin, our generous host taught me the expression written above,
我們都是一家人: "we're all like one family"
This is nice, but, c'mon, you can't talk like that to people you've only just met. Can you?

The next day she drove us all over Hualien introducing us to snacks, drinks and scenery we would've been want to find on our own.


Having lived in Japan for a couple years, my standard expectations for polite friendliness to guests is rather high. I had read that Taiwan was one of the most welcoming places on Earth, but, given my experience in Japan, I figured I was prepared for it. Even so, my first couple days left me completely disarmed. As I sat on the train for Taipei after my time in Hualien I found myself shaking my head in disbelief.
This level of hospitality just can't exist, and, yet, in spite of everything evil in the news today, it does. Could there still be a few people out there worth believing in?

Foreward to Formosa

Years ago, when youthful curiosity still fueled ambition, and ambition still burned into life-altering experience, I embarked upon a legendary quest.
Though I knew it'd be a solitary venture, I firmly decided that to struggle alone and fail would be worth more to me than dwelling in in the festive company of the multitudes of the "never tried".

To be honest, I can't recall if it was sunny, cloudy or rainy on the day when it all began. The weather brought no portents, which suited me just fine. If I was going to be working alone, it was best that others not receive any clues regarding the immense, impending change in my life. Standing sentinel across the way from the brick-walled location of the coming catalyst, I discretely darted my eyes left and right until I felt certain that no one was following.

Without allowing a moment to reflect, my left foot stepped down from the pavement to the street below. The right followed in kind. No thoughts, no emotions, no regrets. My body would see me accept this challenge whether my mind wanted to or not. I didn't realize exactly what my feet were doing until my hands had pushed open a simple glass door and the sound of bells awoke my cognitive senses. By then, it was too late to turn around.

A middle-aged Chinese man leaning in a chair in the corner looked away from the small television in front of him to see who had arrived. As I drew closer, he swiveled the chair to face me and arose so that he could match my gaze at equal height.
"Welcome, welcome," while his face was displaying a broad smile for all to see, his hands secretly slipped me a piece of paper. I glanced at the paper, then back at him, then at the paper again.

"have you decided?" the friendliness he displayed in his tone masked an impatience only I could read. I looked at his face and paused before answering. His smile did, in fact, seem genuine. Perhaps he really did have no idea what a large role he was playing in my destiny. Perhaps he didn't care.

"Yes, I've decided," I spoke to him plainly all the while attempting to hide great eagerness.


"I'd like a bubble tea, please"Bubble Tea is a dessert-like Taiwanese drink combining tea, tapioca pearls, a wide range of flavors and milk. The restaurant I frequented in my university days probably had a least 20 different flavours ranging from plain milk tea to kumquat and kiwi. I vowed to try every flavour before graduating, and, having failed in that quest, must now endure a pilgrimage to the island birthplace of my beloved beverage: Taiwan.

I'll fill you in on cultural/historical details later. In the meantime, please enjoy this video clip of Taiwan's most treasured historical cultural anthem: