Taiwanese people are not unfamiliar with myths and legends popular to most Chinese or Western societies, but how many of them have heard the stories rooted in Taiwan's soil?
A shape shifter arrives in a village unknown. By taking the form of a husband returning from a fishing trip or a suckling mother, he stalks the children of the village, sometimes eating out their entrails until only a husk of a child remains. Formidable, and reckless with his magic powers, he is able to fend off attacks by the village's warriors. He is known as Alikakay the child eater.
Nufu, known as Lin Shun-tao in Mandarin, knew little about Alikakay the giant child eater until recently. Last year the graphic designer from a community of the Ami--Taiwan's largest indigenous tribe--was tasked with illustrating a book of Ami legends and myths. Thirty-odd years after leaving his hometown in Taitung, a city on Taiwan's southeast coast, at the age of six, Nufu discovered Alikakay and many other stories passed down from his ancestors while preparing for the assignment. "I've been living an urban life in Taipei for a long time," he says. "I had to rely on my mother to tell me about these legends and myths."
Many aborigines know more about Han Chinese--the main ethnic group of both Taiwan and China--and Western legends and myths than their own. Indeed, the vast majority of people in Taiwan are certainly more familiar with the legend of Chang O flying to the Moon, or even the Greek myth about Pandora's box than Alikakay. But aboriginal folk tales are gaining more currency, thus prompting one publisher to create a ten-book series targeting teenagers, including one illustrated by Nufu. The series, published by Third Nature Publishing Co., will add to the public's growing knowledge of Taiwan's indigenous communities.
Much of the series is based on texts provided by authors from various aboriginal tribes. Indeed, Alang Manglavan, a member of the Bunun tribe, whose people typically live at elevations above 1,500 meters in the mountains, is a reservoir of his people's mythology. He grew up enraptured by tales told by the tribal elders, developed a consuming passion for the stories of his ancestors, and has pursued field studies of Bunun cultural traditions since 1983. Currently the director-general of the Indigenous People's Bureau of Kaohsiung County Government, the 48-year-old Bunun believes that the best way to produce the text is to talk to elder tribesmen.
Sun Ta-chuan, planner of the project and concurrently director of the Institute of the Development for Indigenous Peoples at National Dong Hwa University, emphasizes the wealth of information that can be garnered by oral tradition. "We're short of firsthand documents about Taiwan's aboriginal peoples," says Sun, himself from the Puyuma tribe located in southeast Taiwan. "The Japanese produced many documents based on field studies during the colonial era, but only some of these papers have been translated." Sun says that anthropologists, who tend to apply Western theories and replicate Western views in their works, have dominated the study of aboriginal cultures. In contrast, Sun says ties with aboriginal communities have a more inherent value than the works of anthropologists. Sun notes that this approach plays a more significant role in related research and literature, such as his brainchild, the series of books on aboriginal mythology.
Simplicity is a key component of the illustrations as well, and the series is guided by this concept. Sun prefers to work with illustrators whose creations are marked by unsophisticated styles. Thus, most of the illustrators are self-taught artists, such as Nufu, who try to convert myths and legends into simple, vivid images that truly reflect aboriginal lives. This, however, poses a number of problems for illustrators who have been away from their roots for decades. "The more I understand my tribe, the less I'm confident about my work," he says. For him, preparing for the assignment opened his eyes to what traditional Ami life is like.
Yet, the architects of this project are seeking to create something more than just a collection of tales. The books include sections on tribal customs, rituals, and living environments. The reader will also find a table that lists key romanized words, phrases, and sentences of indigenous languages and their equivalents in Mandarin. Attached at the end of each book is a map that guides the reader through the traditional lands of the indigenous tribes, historical sites, and places of interest, such as nearby scenic sites, museums exhibiting indigenous artifacts, and even famous indigenous singers' homes. For those hungry for a deeper understanding of aboriginal cultures, pages listing related websites can be rather informative.
Sun hopes the books can offer a comprehensive portrait of aboriginal mythology. Each book in the series concentrates on the myths of a particular tribe. Of course, origin myths figure predominantly in the books' structure. Take for example, the Atayal origin myth. The Atayals believe their ancestors emerged from a stone cliff in the midst of the island. At the same time, the notion of environmental protection is a recurrent message in many of the myths. "The stories tell the reader how indigenous people look at the universe and how they have established a harmonious relationship with nature," says Sun.
The implicit respect for nature revealed by the aboriginal myths and a tribe's ability to live in harmony with its surroundings present an impressive environmental model for a modern society trying to find a balance between the development and preservation of natural resources. One example is the legend of the longhaired spirit of Sun Moon Lake, a story from the Thao Tribe, whose members live mostly in Nantou County in central Taiwan. One day the spirit, Taqrahaz, began destroying the Thao tribe's fishing equipment, which was scattered across the lake. One Thao youth tries to ward off the strange being, but the spirit warns the tribe of a future where they would find the lake empty if they attempt to catch every fish. The Thao learn that they should be more prudent about fishing and should limit their catch.
But it is the tales themselves, where fantasy is given free rein, that are worth cherishing as a great source of creativity. "In them, you'll find many things--the mountain, the sea, and wild animals--things that have been long forgotten in today's urban life," says Sun.
More importantly, these stories are expected to enhance the identity of Taiwan's indigenous cultures. "Indigenous identity will not be enhanced if we just pay lip service to it," Sun says. "We should enrich it by giving substance to it. Familiarizing people with indigenous myths and legends is only one of many strategies." Together with other important aspects of aboriginal life, such as dance, music, and sculpture, Sun hopes that written materials will further the public's awareness of Taiwan's aboriginal cultures.
Robin Winkler, the English translator for the series, also thinks that although there has been more emphasis on indigenous culture recently, the subject needs much more attention. "There are positive signs," he says, and cites recent efforts to teach aboriginal languages in public schools. "But mainstream society still wants to assimilate aborginals into society. Let's make them more like us. Get them to watch TV. Have them learn Mandarin, English, and Taiwanese. No, this is not the right approach," says Winkler. Deeply interested in aboriginal cultures, Winkler thinks the series will help inspire people to recognize the importance of preserving indigenous cultures and believes that the bilingual format will help attract an international audience.
Sun hopes that some day the books will be used as teaching materials at primary schools and secondary schools. "These myths and legends are suitable for drama adaptations as well," he says. Indeed, much more can be done to make indigenous cultures more fully appreciated, which would be a significant step in Taiwan's efforts to build a healthy pluralistic society. "All cultures should be given the freedom to express themselves," says Alang Manglavan, "and people from different cultures should learn to appreciate the beauty of each other's cultural assets. Then, all the people in Taiwan will be living in harmony."
Retrieving aboriginal myths and legends as well as many other cultural legacies of Taiwan's earliest dwellers is certainly a laudable beginning on the path toward reaching this utopian goal. And such a goal might be nearer when one day Nufu can easily remember his Ami roots and the tales created by his ancestors without seeking the help of others.