A Deep Dive into Taitung’s Cultural Heritage

By Valdis Gauss

Living alone in the paradise known as Taitung has given me opportunities to cultivate numerous beautiful possibilities. As a teacher, my primary focus is nurturing my students as they work to reach their goals. Outside of work, my hobbies include playing guitar and hiking at Liyu Mountain, stone carving, cooking, making furniture and jewelry, river tracing near the aboriginal community of Taromak, snorkeling at Fushan, cycling and running on the Taitung Mountain-Ocean Bikeway, and writing.

I was born and raised a mile and a half up a dirt road on an off-grid organic avocado ranch in Santa Barbara, California, and it was there that my connection to fresh air and nature was born and solidified. In many ways, Santa Barbara’s topography mirrors that of Taitung. In both places, mountains cascade into the sea under the watchful gaze of islands — the Channel Islands at Santa Barbara and Green and Orchid islands at Taitung. So when I relocated from Tokyo to Taiwan in 2008, I felt rather out of place in metropolitan Taichung.

Endeavor as I did, I couldn’t find Taichung’s air pollution, the general absence of nature, and super-fast pace of life agreeable. Later that same year, I completed my first round-the-island adventure and experienced the varied atmospheres of Taiwan’s cities and counties. I found beauty and intrigue everywhere I went, yet nowhere beckoned me nearly so much as Taitung with its verdant mountains and azure coast. After this epiphany, I made it my goal to move to Taitung.

In addition to its superior air quality — a fact that’s proudly emblazoned across the Arrivals Exit at Taitung Airport — Taitung boasts everything a person requires. On the surface, the city offers every civic amenity anyone could need, such as transportation links, schools, hospitals, museums, supermarkets, beaches, and parks. And just beneath the surface, there’s a dazzling and thriving assortment of tribal cultures, the iconography of which adorns almost every neighborhood.

Among the most ubiquitous examples of Austronesian iconography in Taitung City comes from the Tao/Yami tribe of Orchid Island (Lanyu). Known in the Bashiic Yami language as the matano-tatara (“eyes of the boat”), this icon can be found on public and private buildings, and on signage, roads, cars, scooters, shirts, and pretty much anywhere you can think of including payphones, charging stations, keyrings, and pencils. The mata-no-tatara depicts a small sun in front of a large sun and is a reference to the twin suns featured in the “Shooting the Sun” myth.

When I first relocated to Taitung in 2017, I had no idea what the mata-no-tatara was or what it represented. Likewise, I was oblivious to the cultural significance of other images that adorn the city: hundred-pace snake patterns, ceramic pots, animals, and humanoid figures. I made it my mission to understand what these images signify and found answers via my research into the Formosan mythology of Taiwan’s Austronesian tribes. Living in this environment where ancient myths are depicted ubiquitously across the cityscape has made Taitung the ideal place for me to do research and write.

I feel exceptionally lucky to have become an assistant professor at National Taitung University’s Department of English. The other faculty members and university employees welcomed me from day one and made me feel like an important part of the team. I teach classes related to tourism, business, the Cold War, and listening and speaking. Since many of our students go on to work in industries related to teaching, transportation, tourism and hospitality, or international business after graduation, I do everything I can to nurture them in ways that foster relevant skills. But teaching is a two-way street: My students inspire me to pursue self-improvement and to face challenges with an optimistic attitude, something I’ve witnessed them do successfully, even in the face of great adversity at times.

In addition to teaching, I dedicate a lot of time to researching and investigating the extent to which the sacred myths of Taiwan’s aboriginal tribes influence modern society. To this end, I write about Formosan mythology to highlight, celebrate, and promote the sacred and most ancient aboriginal myths and to give Englishlanguage readers access to Taiwan’s most exciting and unique oral traditions.

I balance my time between writing and teaching indoors and taking advantage of the paradise that is Taitung’s outdoors. Just recently, for example, I visited a beach near Zhiben Wetlands. While there, I discovered that much of the coastal access road had been blanketed with sand by the autumn typhoons. This made the experience of visiting a place I’d been to many times before feel “new,” because everything had been rearranged by the storms. Experiences like this are common in Taitung. And even though Taitung City is small by Taiwan’s standards, there’s always something stimulating waiting around the next corner.

I do my utmost to visit different beaches and — even if it’s just for a few moments — I go to the shoreline every day. I often sketch drawings in the sand, balance stones, and absorb the sonic therapy that’s created by the waves as they lap the shore. The raucous ocean often fills the air with a delicious spray that accumulates on my lips during my beach walks. It tastes salty and vibrant.

My mom taught me how to cook at a young age and later I spent a year undergoing classical training in Santa Barbara City College’s culinary program. Later, I catered weddings and other events in California. In Taitung, I cook every day. As a chef, I’m always searching for delicious, healthy, and fresh ingredients. Fortunately, this corner of Taiwan has a number of vendors that offer fantastic locally grown produce, meat, and eggs. A typical dinner might include oven-roasted locally grown organic free-range chicken and a melody of sauteed organic vegetables over a bed of red quinoa (which Taitung’s Paiwan people call djulis) with a side of avocado. Knowing that everything on my dinner plate was grown within 30 minutes of where I live is exciting.

After moving to Taitung, I became interested in making furniture such as tables, bookshelves, and benches. Also, fascinated by the various types of local stones, I developed an affinity for stone carving which I make into bowls, jewelry, and figurines that are sold at Varasa in Tiehua Music Village.

I rarely leave Taitung, but when I do, I can immediately feel the pace of life pick up. A trip to Taiwan’s western side never fails to induce a helter-skelter tempo that I can’t wait to shake off. It’s only when I return to Taitung that I feel everything slow down around me, and my soul finds peace once again.

Whether you’re a Taitung native or a new resident, I encourage you to put away all of your electronic devices, venture outdoors, and allow all five of your senses to drink in the glory of God’s creation here in Paradise. Hopefully you’ll find the peace that I’ve found here and give that peace a chance to nurture your soul.