Improvising a Life in Taitung

By Viktor Schramek

My first taste of Taiwan was back in 2010, when I joined a cultural exchange visit to Taipei. It was a very short stay — less than a week — but I felt there was something really special about Taiwan. After I got back to Prague, where I was studying, I couldn’t stop thinking about the island. I was so curious, and I hoped to return to see what I could find there.

I didn’t have to wait very long. When I visited in 2012, I stayed for three months, traveling with a backpack and trying to see as much of Taiwan as possible. I enjoyed hanging out in the countryside and on tea farms, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy me. I knew I’d have to come back.

I grew up surrounded by music and performance. My grandparents, my parents, and my sister have all worked in the theater in Slovakia. I took piano lessons from the age of eight, switching to drumming when I was twelve. I learned to play all kinds of drums and percussion instruments. I’ve made experimental music using unusual objects, or by playing instruments like a guitar in an unusual way to create new sounds. However, by late 2015, I was tired of being a session musician and playing in clubs most evenings.

Because I was so fed up and thinking of quitting music and becoming an organic banana farmer in Taiwan, I decided to visit a friend living in Taimali in Taitung. I intended to stay for just one month, working at my friend’s hostel in return for free accommodation. My farming dream was impractical — I had no land and no money — until a local Paiwan lady gave me free use of a small piece of land. Her generous offer really impressed and touched me, so I grew bananas, leafy greens, eggplants, carrots, and radishes for about a year. I just did it for myself, I wasn’t trying to be commercially successful.

It wasn’t long before I was an active musician again. I ended up drumming with a local band called Kaying no Makerahay. They performed traditional Amis songs remade as psychedelic rock. I played with them all over Taiwan, getting to know a lot of people as a result.

At least 95 percent of the time when I’m playing music, I’m doing it with Taiwanese people. I feel I work in two different worlds. One is the improvisational/experimental field. The other is working with indigenous people, trying to support their folk-music traditions.

For two years, I taught part-time at a music center in Taitung City. Taiwanese education tends to be strict and doesn’t tolerate mistakes, whereas improv is all about making music while being allowed to make mistakes. I noticed that the kids who’ve been homeschooled or who attend alternative schools find improv much easier than those going to regular schools. These days I seldom teach music; I only take students who are really interested.

I studied jazz which includes free jazz and improv, but those genres still have some rules you should follow. In my performances now, anything goes. No rules, no style, just a spontaneous conversation with other artists through music. Sometimes I know I’ll be working with dancers, but none of us know what’s going to happen. We start with a blank sheet of paper! Recently I’ve been working with an amazing violin player named Hsin-wei Chiang who not long ago moved back to Taiwan from New York.

Performing with indigenous artists is different. I play with folk musicians, and folk music is really about telling stories. Indigenous people are especially good at this, because music is how they used to pass on mythology and culture from generation to generation. So when I play drums alongside indigenous musicians, I try to support them so they can tell those precious stories.

During Covid-19, most public performances were canceled. This gave me some time to work on my other passion, Taiwanese tea, and build a website (www.vikoshancha.com) through which I introduce and sell my favorite teas.

I first got to know Asian teas when I was about 20 years old and working in a teahouse in Prague. During my 2010 visit, I bought some oolong as a souvenir. Drinking it when I got back to Europe was an almost transcendental experience. The smell and taste seemed so familiar. To me, they represented Taiwan. Tea was certainly a big reason for me to come back.

Selling tea online helped me survive the loss of income because I couldn’t perform live shows. It’s become my second job. The local tea industry is most active in the spring, while musicians tend to be very busy in summer, so there’s a balance. In my opinion, Red oolong from Luye is Taitung’s best tea.

I’ve considered moving to Taipei because there are more opportunities, but Taitung always pulls me back. It’s like a magnet! It’s really my home now. I find it hard to adjust to city life after living in the countryside. I used to live in the mountains. Now I’m quite near the ocean, in an oldish single-story house. Finding a suitable place to stay isn’t easy, however, as houses in popular areas tend to get snapped up by wealthy city folks, especially since the pandemic.

Taitung isn’t the right place for everyone. It may disappoint people who expect certain conveniences. You need your own transportation and you’ll have to cook for yourself. Of course, nature lovers adore it here.

If you move here, I recommend understanding the culture and history of the indigenous people, out of respect for their land and tribes. Knowing a few words in the local indigenous language is a small gesture that can have a big impact. Perhaps the best way to enter this society is through music. I feel it’s a great honor to play with Taitung’s indigenous musicians, and to have been accepted into many different bands and communities.

I’ve also learned a huge amount from them about foraging. Some wild vegetables are fibrous or bitter, but many so-called weeds are quite edible. I don’t have much time to collect wild vegetables these days, but sometimes I find wild bitter melons growing by the road. Some people boil this small orange gourd for a short time, as it’s a very cooling food in summertime. I like it raw, mixed with tofu. No seasoning is necessary, but not everyone likes the bitterness or texture.

Some people compare Taitung to Thailand, but I think there’s a key difference. Taitung isn’t as easy as Thailand, but once you get in, it can become a lifetime thing. You can choose a place, but also a place may choose you. Taitung is one of those places anybody can choose, but not everyone is chosen by it. Many people come for a summer, then leave because they don’t find something that gets them engaged in local society. But that’s the beauty of Taitung. I don’t think it’ll ever become like some places in Thailand. Here, you need to find a way to make a living, or be willing to make small sacrifices. Give it a try, but don’t force it.