Taiwan Today

Traffic congestion is common to all cities, but in Taipei it sometimes seems like a determined goal line stand.

" It's a jungle out there," says Tiao Chien-sheng .(刁建生), chief of the Taipei Traffic Police Corps. Sorting out the day-to-day traffic of a city of 3.5 million commuters, over half a million cars, 3,200 buses, 700,000 motor scooters, and 36,000 taxis is Tiao's headache. "There are less than seven hundred traffic police in Taipei," he says, "and five hundred are out in the streets every day. Half of them handle traffic accidents, which occur every five minutes on the average. The other half conduct traffic during rush hours, issue about 7,000 to 8,000 tickets a day, and tow away 1,500 illegally parked cars daily."

Tiao gets much needed relief during rush hours from about 2,500 lionhearted and iron-lunged taxi drivers who have volunteered to serve as traffic assistants. Distinguished from the regular, blue-uniformed traffic police by their bright orange camouflage vests with caps to match, the traffic assistants hit the streets after a two-day training course. The Taipei City Council pays their salaries of less than US$4 an hour, little consolation for the harassment they receive as traffic assistants.

Says Mr. Liu, a traffic assistant who does not want to be identified further: "We are not perfect, and we make mistakes sometimes. But we have been trying very hard to keep the city moving." Irate drivers have been known to get out of their cars and motor scooters to beat up the traffic assistants. Liu has first-hand experience. A few months ago, a driver suddenly leaped from his car and started hitting him. Liu could not report for work for two days and even had to pay his own medical expenses.

"There is no justice," says Mr. Hsieh, who also asked to withhold his first name. "We spend about twenty hours a month trying to do something for our city, but it seems nobody appreciates us." But while the experience can be unpleasant and even threatening, Hsieh says that traffic assistants derive a feeling of achievement from knowing they have helped people get through the traffic maze and to their homes earlier. "A magazine once called us a bunch of fools," Liu says. "And maybe we are," adds Hsieh.

Most Taipei residents would agree that city traffic has turned into a virtual contest for survival. Endless traffic jams, air pollution from vehicle emissions, and rampant disregard for traffic laws and courtesy have turned the city into an urban jungle. The simultaneous digging up of roads in many parts of the city to make way for the new mass rapid transit system to be completed in 1999 has brought Taipei into what the city government calls the "transitional stage." It is more popularly known as the "Dark Age of Taipei."

The congestion of vehicles and people, outgrowths of the lively and unbridled economic boom of the late 1980s, has done much to compound the problems of a city with a history of haphazard urban and traffic planning. Says Robert S.F. Tang (唐雪舫), deputy director, Department of Transportation, Taipei City Government: "In the past, traffic plans served public interests. If people felt they needed a new bus stop or traffic lights, they went to the government, and the government would set up a new bus stop or traffic light. But at that time, it was very easy to drive around the city, and also much easier to find parking space. "

In fact, the history of Tang's department illustrates the easygoing attitude that the public and the government have had toward traffic planning. The Department of Transportation was set up in 1972 to coordinate and incorporate the work of several independent administrative bodies in charge of areas such as bus administration, driver training, and traffic control. The new department had highly detailed responsibilities, including policy making, parking, statistics, and tourism. But the overlapping set-up lasted only two years. The responsibilities and functions of the old administrative structures left little for the new Department of Transportation to do, so it was disbanded.

Hindsight indicates shortsightedness. In 1974 there were less than 240,000 cars, buses, and motor scooters cruising the streets. But by 1988, the year the Department of Transportation was revived, the number had almost quadrupled to 935,000 vehicles. Today, five cars crowd into three-lane roads, motor scooters ride the sidewalks, and pedestrians must be wary for their lives, especially in crosswalks. Inadequate parking space has led to double-parking on main thoroughfares, and to pedestrians walking on the streets because the sidewalks are often clogged with parked cars and motorcycles, as well as with the overflow from storefront displays and mobile vendor stands.

The Department of Transportation has a staff of 120, and supervises six bureaus with a staff of 780. They are the Office of Motor Vehicles, the City Bus Administration, the Bureau of Traffic Engineering, the Automobile Accident Adjudication Committee, the Driver Training Center, and the Bureau of Parking Management. As Tang sees it, traveling down the city's streets and sidewalks would not be so bad if only the department and the bureaus could solve the two worst traffic problems: lack of parking space and vehicle congestion. >

But there is no viable solution in sight to the lack of parking spaces in the city. Statistics from the Bureau of Parking Management show that public off-road parking lots in Taipei can accommodate 14,000 vehicles, and street parking 20,000. Another 100,000 vehicles could squeeze into the city's narrow alleys.

That means a total of 134,000 spots for more than half a million cars. Worse, there are only 4,000 parking spaces for the city's 700,000 motor scooters. Ministry of Communications figures indicate an immediate need for at least 200,000 automobile parking spaces, and 300,000 more in the next ten years. "We will never be able to catch up with the speed in the growth of vehicles," Tang says. "Parking lots are needed most badly in downtown' areas where land is by far the hardest to acquire."

When it comes to parking, drivers have been especially imaginative in outwitting the traffic police. An old trick to solve short-term parking is to leave the car at a nearby car wash, which is usually no more than a curb area off the main streets where cars are washed by hand. Another ploy is to pull into an illegal spot and place an old parking ticket on the windshield. And because towing companies will not babysit, some people just leave their children in their cars.

Tang admits that in the past the city government paid relatively little attention to building parking lots or even designating parking zones in the commercial districts. It was only in 1988, when the traffic caused by double-parked cars on the city's main roads could no longer be ignored, that the city government acted by setting up the Bureau of Parking Management. Its purpose was to manage all public parking lots and street parking facilities, to review applications for public and private parking lots, and to supervise the building of these lots.

But the move came too late. Land prices skyrocketed, and an outdated land law has left the government with hardly any alternatives except to build parking lots below public school grounds and in the basements of buildings, and to encourage construction of parking lots by the private sector.

"Theoretically, the government should not be responsible for parking," Tang says. "People should be responsible for their own parking because they are the ones using the cars. The government writes out the regulations and designates the no-parking zones. People can park wherever they please as long as they don't violate these laws. And people who do not have their own parking spaces shouldn't own cars."

Easier said than done. The Department of Transportation is caught in a strangle hold, because it has little power to control the tremendous increase in the number of vehicles. In the meantime, total road space essentially stopped growing in 1989. In 1980, Taipei had 182,000 cars. The figure multiplied threefold as of November 1990, to over 500,000.

According to Tang, there are 1.2 million cars and motor scooters registered in Taipei, and the number increases by 10,000 every month. "There is no law to stop people from buying cars," he says. "We have suggested ways to deter people from owning cars such as increasing import duties and license and fuel taxes, and requiring car buyers to show proof that they own or are renting their own parking space before they make the purchase. But they have all failed in the city councilor the Legislative Yuan, where the right to own a car is given higher priority than cleaning up traffic."

The increase in the number of motor scooters is even more astounding. All pedestrians have crossed streets in front of masses of motor scooters rev­iving up their engines before a light change. The experience is intimidating in the extreme. Pedestrian life will only get worse. The number of motor scoot­ers has almost doubled from 360,000 in 1980 to almost 700,000 as of the end of October 1990. The increase is under­standable: ease of movement. While cars, taxis, and buses lie paralyzed in traffic jams, motor scooters can snake their way through the streets and sidewalks.

Kao Pao-hua (高寶華), a stockbro­ker, is only one of the many commuters who saw that the motor scooter was a surefire way to beat the traffic. He used to drive about nine kilometers from his home in Tienmu, in northern Taipei, to his job in the central part of the city.

If he left home after 7:00 A.M., he spent an hour on the road. Rain added at least half an hour. Kao could not afford to be late. "I can't remember how many tick­ets I've received for illegal parking," he says. "And my car has been towed away at least a dozen times." A year ago, Kao bought a scooter. His travel time has been cut by twenty minutes, and he can park his scooter on the sidewalk in front of his building.

The city government has opted for a variety of solutions to ease traffic, from increasing road space by constructing elevated expressways and opening opposite direc­tion bus lanes during rush hours, to contracting private companies to tow away il­legally parked cars and motor scooters. Yet every move seems to bring its own share of problems.

Take, for example, the elevated ex­pressways. There are five elevated ex­pressways running through Taipei, covering a distance of twenty kilometers. The Department of Transportation sub­mits the plans and the budget to the city council for approval, an arduous step­ by-step process. But the "not in my back yard" syndrome frequently interferes with plans.

"The Keelung Road Elevated Ex­pressway is a typical example of how things can go wrong," says Tang. The original plan was to have the expressway run from Yungho and Hsintien, bedroom communities south and south­ east of Taipei, all the way to the intersec­ tion of Keelung Road and Kuangfu South Road, just outside the city's main commercial district. It was to cover a total distance of four kilometers. The residents of Keelung Road lobbied against the plan, and the city council lis­tened. As a result, only one-fourth of the original plan has been built. The expressway ends on the intersection of Keelung Road and Hsinhai Road, and the exit has now become one of the city's worst traffic bottlenecks.

"The residents of Keelung Road un­ derstand the bigger picture now," Tang says, "because they are directly and ad­ versely affected. So we brought up the original plan again to the city council." The Department of Transportation recently succeeded in winning approval for another kilometer.

In fact, plans to solve traffic snarls have been implemented piecemeal in the past. But the city government has finally decided that overall, long-range traffic planning is now essential. The mis­sion is the responsibility of the Depart­ment of Transportation, and it is one that Tang is hard-pressed to meet. One problem: not enough engineers. "There is no doubt about the quality of our engi­neers, but we need more, especially senior engineers," he says.

According to Tang, when the Department of Transportation reopened two years ago, it had to borrow most of its experienced engineers for its Bureau of Traffic Engineering from other government departments that do construction projects, such as the Depart­ment of Public Works. Today, most of the department's engineers are fresh uni­versity graduates or have master's degrees- but little experience. Many eventually defect to other departments. "Salaries are the same," says Tang, "but if the engineers work for departments that do construction, they receive a cer­tain percentage of the construction budget as bonuses. So our engineers leave as soon as they can."

Aside from a shortage of engineers, traffic planning also suffers from a lack of coordinated support from other gov­ernment departments, such as the Department of Rapid Transit Systems. Early on, the Department of Transporta­tion suggested staggering the subway construction schedule. But since con­struction was already delayed by an acute labor shortage and problems in securing land, work on the subway system has to be done simultaneously in several parts of the city. The situation is much the same with the Department of Public Works. Often, both departments are digging up the roads at the same time. "It would certainly be helpful in minimizing Taipei traffic problems if they could consider our viewpoint before they make their work sched­ules, " says Tang.

It seems that the most effective and immediate solution to Taipei's traf­fic problem is to encourage as many people as possible to travel together.

And until the subway system is completed in 1999, the only available mass transit system is the bus. But is there much chance of getting people to leave their cars and motor scooters at home and take the bus to work instead?

Huang Shu-chiang (黃書強), com­missioner of the City Bus Administration, Taipei City Government, thinks not. "The only attraction that any kind of mass transit system has is that it will transport a large number of passengers faster than any other means in heavy traffic," he says. "But the traffic in Taipei is even more fatal for big buses than it is for cars and motor scooters."

Taipei has ten bus companies, the biggest of which is owned by the Taipei Bus Administration. Altogether, there are 3,200 buses running 282 routes. The bus routes cover such long distances that it is possible for a passenger to travel from one end of the city to the other without having to transfer more than once. At US$.37 for an average eight­ kilometer ride on an air-conditioned bus (US$.30 for non-air-conditioned), buses remain Taipei's best bargain. But cheap is not necessarily better. "We lose 5 mil­ lion passenger trips a month," Huang says.

One complaint is that the buses are slow. In response, the City Bus Adminis­tration is actively trying to make the bus the most efficient and safest means of transportation in the city. It is bringing in a new ticketing system in July 1991. Magnetic bus tickets will be taking the place of punch cards, thus freeing the driver from punching tickets and speed­ing up the time it takes passengers to get on and off the bus. The city government has also given first priority to buses in its plans to quicken the pace of traffic. More and more one-way streets have buses traveling in special lanes moving in the opposite direction. This has made buses the fastest means of transportation on some of Taipei's most congested streets.

The special bus lane works for Kuo Yi-ling (郭意玲), a government employ­ee who owns both a car and a scooter. "It takes me thirty minutes to drive the five kilometers to my office, twenty min­utes by motor scooter, and now ten min­utes by bus. Best of all, 1 step off the bus safe, clean, and early."

Bus travel can have its disadvantages. The most common passenger complaints are that buses are uncom­fortable, especially in the hot, muggy summers; that the schedules posted on the bus stops are meaningless; and that the drivers are often nasty. "1 take the bus in the mornings," says Lee Jung­ ping (李榕平), who works for a trading company. "According to the schedule, there should be a bus every seven to eight minutes. There's a whole crowd at the bus stop because at least twenty min­utes pass before the next bus comes. And when it does, all of us run to the door or we'll get left behind by the impa­tient driver."

The City Bus Administration is con­cerned about mounting passenger dissatisfaction. Huang encourages bus riders to write in specific complaints and criti­cisms to the City Bus Administration or the Department of Transportation, giving the license number of the bus and other details. "We will do something about it," he says.

Improvements are already under way. All the old buses will be replaced by new and larger air-conditioned buses in the next three years. At present, the bus administration has 1,600 buses, but less than 400 are air-conditioned. According to Huang, 260 old buses are being re­ placed this year, 560 will be replaced next year, and another 240 the year after. Since competing private bus lines already have more air-conditioned buses, passengers will have a broader range of choices for comfortable rides.

Although passengers may find many drivers on the testy side, some sympathy for their predicament is necessary. Driv­ing a crowded bus through Taipei traffic for an average of nine to ten hours a day, having a designated bus stop every two blocks, and urging people to squeeze in and to make room for more passengers is by no means a job for the meek. Huang admits that there are some mean bus drivers out there, but he hastens to add that the majority are performing their jobs well and pleasantly.

The administration conducts regular classes for bus drivers on courteous serv­ice, in which cases illustrating bad and good service are discussed. Spot checks are also done on bus drivers, who are then graded according to their driving skills, their manner toward passengers, and bus cleanliness and maintenance. The scores figure in annual bonuses and promotions in salary and grade level. "But the most basic thing," says Huang, "is to instill in our drivers the correct attitude toward service."

To give the public an idea of what the new buses will be like, the City Bus Administration is circulating a fleet of 1,023 demonstration buses on eighty routes. The buses are equipped with electronic stop signals, a display board that flashes the next stop, and a tape recording that informs passengers of ap­proaching bus stops. The drivers are selected from among the best of the ad­ ministration's crew. "Many passengers have called or written to tell us that the demonstration buses are a great im­provement," Huang says. "But does it make a big difference how comfortable our buses are, or how good our service is? Until something is done to improve the traffic condition, we will be unable to transport our passengers as fast as a good bus system should. That is our big­gest problem."

Taking a cab is the easiest way out for people who do not want the worries of parking a car, but want the fast and efficient door­ to-door service that a bus cannot pro­vide. Taipei , taxis can-and often do - take passengers to their destination at breakneck speed, whether or not they want the thrill of careening through traf­fic and zipping down alleys to avoid stop lights. At least the fares are comparative­ly lower than most cities with an equally high cost of living. The meter begins at US$1.47 for the first 1.5 km., adding eighteen cents for every additional 400 meters.

Of the 36,000 taxis in the city, 28,000 belong to 1,500 private compa­nies. The rest are individually owned. Taxi companies rent out their cars for about US$33 a day, and anyone with a professional driver's license may rent a taxi.

Lately, however, it seems that traffic has also gotten the better of Taipei's infa­mous, daredevil taxi drivers. Their skills in finding the shortest routes have been rendered useless by the heavy traffic, as even the narrow alleys have traffic jams. The contest with other taxis, cars, buses, and motor scooters for a head start at traffic lights is becoming increasingly dif­ficult. "Driving a taxi in Taipei is like fishing," says taxi driver Kung Ling-lei (孔令雷). "You can't do anything but wait. We end up working longer hours so we can make enough money."

The Department of Transportation is not holding its breath until the subway system absorbs, according to the expec­tations of the Department of Rapid Tran­ sit Systems, 51 percent of the city's com­muter load by 2001. Recognizing that the only solution is for people to act in concert before order comes to the streets, the department began a cam­paign that implores, "Let's go through this transition stage hand in hand." The English translation of the slogan, which is also on the banners and stickers given out by the department, is more assertive and catchy: "Keep Taipei Moving."

Begun in September 1990, the cam­paign has two major objectives: to disseminate traffic information and to educate people on the benefits of obey­ing traffic rules, carpooling, taking the bus, and walking. Says Yang Li-chi (楊立奇), section chief of traffic planning at the Department of Transportation: "We're doing a good job on the first objective. "

Before the campaign, traffic informa­tion was available on the air only on the Police Radio System. Today, brief reports on traffic jams are aired On three other privately owned radio stations: the Cheng Sheng Broadcasting Corporation, the Taipei City Broadcasting Station, and the English-language ICRT (Internation­al Community Radio Taipei). The sta­tions are solely responsible for raising the funds to provide this service to its listeners.

The Department of Transportation put out half-page ads in the major news­ papers to mark the beginning of the cam­paign. The ad featured the campaign's logo, a green arrow, and the slogan in both Chinese and English. Stickers of the same design are now displayed on the back of the City Bus Administra­tion's buses.

Television is also in on the campaign. Public service ads encouraging viewers to give way when driving, to take buses, and to walk more frequently to their destinations are aired just before 9:00 P.M. One ad features Chao Shu-hai (趙樹海), the host of a popular game show that lasted for years on television. "Everybody join us" had been the show's catch phrase, and it gained widespread use. So in the ad, Chao says, "Walk a short distance. Live a long life. Everybody join us."

While response to the traffic reports have been favorable, public participation in the campaign has been unenthusiastic. To set an example, the Department of Transportation opened up a car-pool list for its employees. But the plan backfired. The only people to sign up were those who either rode the bus or scooters to work. The car owners preferred to face the traffic alone, bringing too close to home the words of Robert S.F. Tang of the city's Department of Transportation: "Traffic plans are essential, but plans count for nothing if people do not sup­port them."