Like unyielding guards, old trees almost reaching the sky stood straight along the road. Golden sunshine dappled the forests; unknown wild flowers grew everywhere. Suddenly, alarmed, a group of tiny, yellow butterflies stopped their graceful dancing and dispersed in all directions.
And thousands of feet below, a narrow river, like a blue silk kerchief, gently flowed around the valley. Tracing the river back to its source from our high vantage point brought the "New Good Tea" community into our view. This was the home of 99 families of the Rukai aboriginal tribe. We followed the directions given by the villagers and immediately came upon Tsai Won squatting with friends along the road.
The artist- His statuary testifies to an ancient legacy.
He was drinking with another two tribesmen of almost the same age in a working hut made of stone slabs. It was not Tsai, however, but wood-carved human figures, several small knives, a wooden bellows and a rectangular stone furnace that first attracted our attention. He not only specializes in wood carvings but also forges knives and swords.
Tsai does not understand or speak Mandarin at all; therefore his daughter became our interpreter.
A missing front tooth adds an air of naïveté to Tsai's smiles. Yet his face, like a piece of rumpled cloth, records life long experience along with long exposure to the scorching sun.
How old was he? "Maybe more than 80. I am not sure," he said, in an expressive effort to remember, his eyes half closed.
After drinking another bowl of rice wine, he enthusiastically revealed a little, sharp knife shaped like the edge of a willow leaf. The old man held the round handle tightly and, using the strength of his wrist, skillfully carved a piece of wood. Chips fell one after another....
An amulet, with mystic powers.
"Long ago, before starting to carve, I usually drew an outline on the raw material with a piece of charcoal. But now I use pencils," he said, adding, "And now we can buy gimlets, saws and other equipment down on the plains to improve our techniques. Knives aren't the only tools for carving now."
The surrounding mountains supply abundant raw materials to Tsai for his wood carving work. But his daughter is deeply worried about his health, and only when he decides to carve small wood sculptures, does she allow him to fetch the wood pieces (usually teak and wood from trees of the elm family) by himself. He strips the bark, cuts smaller tree trunks into still smaller pieces and brings these back to the small stone working hut. Otherwise, some of the strong, young men must help him transport large portions of giant trees back to the work yard. To prevent the raw wood from drying and cracking, the cut trees must be covered with boards. After curing for three to six months, the cured wood is ready for carving.
His finely-worked knives and swords are his most satisfying masterpieces.
In the old times, going after tall trees in the mountains was a big event to the Rukai aborigines. Women were prohibited from going into the mountains or touching the wood. Instead, they brought rice wine they had prepared earlier to entertain the work party.
When carving figures representing the ancestors, or shapes for the eaves of houses, a ritual had to be held. A skilled craftsman would ask the elders to describe the distinctive features of an ancestor. Then, portions of a wild boar - meat, head and bones - would be placed with wine on a wooden tray, and dedicated to the ancestor. At the end of the ceremony, relatives and neighbors were invited to drink heavily of the wine. It was taboo for pregnant women to watch or touch the sculpture during the carving, because that would offend the spirit of the ancestor.
After completion of the carving, relatives and friends would be invited again to drink and celebrate. The craftsman would lead the group in homage to the ancestor, first drinking of the wine and then pouring some on the sculpture. Then, all of them together would erect the sculpture on a specially chosen site. Rituals also accompanied the carving of scabbards for weapons of the nobility, witchcraft equipment chests and utensils for religious ceremonies.
The carving invokes strong forces.
Tsai also carves stone. Stone slabs, procured mainly in Pingtung, south Taiwan, are his major raw materials. The Rukai and Paiwan tribes are skilled in selecting good stone. Almost every part of their houses is fashioned of stone.
The typical subjects for stone carvings are, again, the tribesmen's ancestors. But suitable stone must be harder than for other purposes and such stone can only be found in distant mountains. One of Tsai's masterpieces, a large human figure with two hands protecting its chest and zigzag bulges on its head, stands in front of his house. A two-headed snake is carved on the belly. Tsai learned the craft from his father; a noble of the tribe.
In 1957, anthropologist Chen Chi-lu surveyed more than 20 aboriginal villages in Pingtung County for his research into the carving art of the Paiwan, Rukai and Peinan tribes. He found that, like the class society of the Chou Dynasty, the society of the three tribes divided into chiefs, nobility, and commoners. All three classes were hereditary. Chiefs were landowners. Commoners worked on the land and paid crop, game and marriage tax to the nobility. The nobility had the privileges of utilizing old pots and decorative carvings; they tattooed their bodies, lived in luxurious houses and wore beautiful clothes. In the houses of the noble class, the exquisite patterns worked on walls and the purlines of roofs, were representative of high position and honor. The existence of the noble class contributed to the ever increasing perfection in the arts of the Rukai, Paiwan and Peinan tribes.
Scene in a Rukai courtyard.
The aborigines are particularly fond of snake designs. In the language of the three tribes the pai pu (one hundred-pace) snake symbolizes "elder" or "spirit." Tribesmen respect snakes as the incarnations of their ancestors. Like the totems of American Indians, the snake designs of the three aboriginal tribes incorporate social and religious significance.
On the walls of Tsai's house hung several knives worked with fine, intricate designs. They are his most satisfying masterpieces. Many years ago when he was a brave warrior of the Rukai tribe, Tsai forged numerous sharp knives and swords for war. He and other young tribesmen together cut off more than a dozen enemy heads and brought them back to their village.
It may take one to two months to forge a sword or a knife. A piece of iron, turned red by heat, is hammered into a 10 cm-long, narrow shape. With a slight bend, the shape becomes graceful. Then overlapping human figures and snake designs are carved on the scabbard, which glistens in the sun after a final inlay of copper buttons.
In the old days, basic structures and carving methods were confined. Craftsmen often copied the works of their predecessors. Now, since the noble class has already declined, the social and religious significance of the traditional arts have also fallen away. Tsai's themes have become broader, and more lively. As we watched, he firmly held a branch, immediately carving it into the shape of a two-headed snake in a posture of attack.
The Rukais are considered the most artistic of the aboriginal tribes. Their talent in landscape design is also unique. The front yard of each home in the "New Good Tea" community is decorated with sunshade structures and with tables and stools made of stone slabs. Trees and flowers embellish the scene.
Figured pipes and decorated scabbards were perogatives of the nobles.
Tsai lives on the proceeds from his artwork, sold in a distant aboriginal artifacts shop. His wife, who died 37 years ago, gave birth to 10 children, but only two reached maturity. The daughter is 40 years old. The son died several years ago and left three boys. The three grandsons have learned some of their skills from their grandfather, and the eldest is sure to become the old man's successor.
"After I die, the tools I used and my sculptures will be the family's heirlooms," said Tsai.
The old man drank up the last of the rice wine in his bowl and turned his gaze toward the sinking sun on the mountain top. Glories of the old days were proudly reenacted in the lines of his face .... -By Huang Mei-ying, "Ming Sheng Pao"/ Translated by Betty Wang