Demanding Department of Health Minister Yeh Ching-chuan visit the site and talk with them, the protesters claimed construction work would leave sections of the buildings, which the government promised to preserve, in ruins and deprive patients of their rights to use the facility in that area. Officials from Taipei City Government's Department of Rapid Transit System and Taipei County Government countered that those patients who refused to leave their homes were delaying the mass rapid transit system extension and would be removed by force if necessary.
After a one-hour face-off, police moved in and began dragging away protesters so workers could get on with their jobs. They also removed the personal property of patients who refused to be forced out of the only home many of them had ever known. This action sparked a public outcry and charges that police lacked compassion. While the local media has taken great delight in spotlighting these confrontations, the rights of the patients who have inhabited Taiwan's only leprosarium for over half a century continue to be trampled on, with their forced eviction justified in the name of the public good.
Although the Losheng controversy only surfaced in the public forum around five years ago, the decision to proceed with work on the MRT extension that would threaten the facility was greenlighted in the late 1980s. Patients continue to argue to this day that they were deliberately kept in the dark about the future of their home. In 2004, a group of medical students started working with residents to try and find a community solution to their problem. By suggesting the facility's listing as a historic site with the aim of preserving it to the benefit of the residents and Taiwan, they were labeled as troublemakers and their efforts dismissed out of hand.
Criticism of the government's handling of the issue soon grew, and in the run up to the 2008 presidential election, a slogan was circulating on the Internet: "Let Losheng decide how we vote for our president." In an early 2008 attempt at compromise, the Executive Yuan's Public Construction Commission announced a decision to preserve Losheng's 49 remaining buildings.
Meanwhile, the sanatorium and its residents have attracted the attentions of students, academics, human-rights activists, artists, writers, documentary filmmakers and independent journalists. These include cultural celebrities such as Cloud Gate Dance Theatre founder Lin Hwai-min and renowned film director Hou Hsiao-hsien, who are throwing their weight behind a movement that has gone far beyond the mere cause of preservation. Indeed, as in the words of Kuang Chung-shiang, an assistant professor at National Chung Cheng University, "The crux of the Losheng issue does not lie in the clash between preservation and development, or between culture and economy. Instead, it involves important societal facets in Taiwan, such as human rights, public health, history, collective memory and media development."
Since Losheng, which means "happy life" in Chinese, began capturing headlines, the local media has rarely addressed the complexity of the situation. The real issues seemed to be missed, with a greater focus placed on broadcasting or reporting images or stories of street demonstrations and rallies in front of government buildings. To make matters worse, the subject is usually handled by pitting preservation against development, or more cruelly, lepers versus Taipei County residents. What continues to be missed about Losheng is a lively sense of community and resident solidarity. This is thanks to the ongoing efforts of students and concerned citizens to allow the remaining residents--many who are septuagenarians--to live the rest of their days with dignity.
On Dec. 28, 2008 Chang Hsin-wen, a longtime member of Losheng Youth Alliance and Save Losheng Association, spoke of the attempt late last year to hive off some of the facility's structures, which according to the PCC, are listed for preservation but declared "unfit for habitation."
Among the 49 buildings the government planned to preserve, nine were to be rebuilt elsewhere, while 40 would be maintained. However, of these 40 buildings, 18 were declared "fit for habitation" while 22 were "unfit for habitation." Students argued that preparation for the MRT extension should not bar people from having access to the 22 buildings. In addition, the government has not yet released a detailed plan outlining how it intends to resituate the nine buildings.
"It was claimed the area was cleared for the safety and preservation of Losheng's historic buildings," Chang said. "Yet in fact, this action would threaten the existence of the site because people would be forbidden from using this space." She explained that the students are trying to open up the site and maintain access not only for the patients, but for nearby communities and any member of the public.
As part of ongoing efforts to draw attention to the plight of Losheng's residents, the "Happy Life Literary House" was opened Dec. 20, 2008. The community library, park and structure located opposite serves as a form of collective memory for the facility's patients, while strengthening their ties with the local community.
On the inaugural weekend, visitors flocked to take in a poetry recital given by 76-year-old Tang Ming-shiang, a Losheng activist and organizer of the literary event. Tang recited poems he wrote as an ambitious young poet, and later, after moving into the facility. Outside, Chen Chai-tien--a Losheng patient--regaled visitors with stories of how people like Chang and others, who spend an enormous amount of time visiting the facility to gain a better understanding of the residents' struggles, have helped bring new life to this forgotten place. "Their involvement has been invaluable," he said. "These efforts have led to a better understanding of our plight and what steps can be taken to correct it."
Over the past few years, students have organized a variety of activities to highlight the Losheng issue. Guided tours, lectures on the history of the leprosarium, concerts, dramas, art exhibitions, social movement seminars, documentary screenings and art exhibitions have taken place every month. Couples who support the Losheng cause have chosen to hold their wedding ceremonies there.
Moreover, activists have made use of various mass communication mediums to get their message across. Documentaries and music albums publicizing Losheng have been produced and distributed through file-sharing programs in order to reach a wider audience. Assistant Professor Kuang defines these events as "cultural activism," and believes they have grown from an attempt to communicate with the greater society and break through the confrontation-obsessed mainstream media.
While working to carry Losheng's agenda to the broader public, activists have deepened their engagement on a personal level, making friends with locals in the surrounding community. Students admitted that during this process of engagement, they found the Losheng area has high population density, a disproportionately high number of low-income families and limited access to green spaces, public space and educational and cultural resources. Thus, over the last two years, Losheng has become a venue for summer camps attended by local children, and a center for further education. Residents of the southern Xinzhuang City area attend dozens of courses covering a variety of subjects. Organizers state that over 200 families have taken part to date.
According to Chen Jay-hao, an artist and community school organizer, the goal of Losheng's preservation movement is to transform what was once an area feared by society into a space for the common person that addresses their needs. "The history of the leprosarium and the disease has contributed to making Losheng a community characterized by sharing, reciprocity and care," she stated. "For residents, care, sharing and mutual help have been their way for survival, yet in modern society, they are envied ideals. We hope to continue to impart these values through our community work."
Write to June Tsai at june@mail.gio.gov.tw