2024/05/04

Taiwan Today

Taiwan Review

We Speak Our Minds

September 01, 1996
Do people from Kaohsiung consider themselves different? How do they evaluate their city? What do they think would best help improve their quality of life? And are their perceptions influenced by comparisons with the northern metropolis of Taipei? The Free China Review went south to find out.

Chen Min-tsung, 48, China Ship­building Corporation employee: Peo­ple in Kaohsiung have darker skin than people up north. We chew betel nut, speak mostly Taiwanese, and we stick together and speak our minds. We care about the people we know, and about the place where we grew up.

People in Taipei call Kaohsiung a cul­tural desert. That’s because we don’t have much access to culture and the arts, and also because we’re too busy working all the time. Two years ago, our first fine arts museum opened. I was really excited, and went to the opening ceremony. But we have our own distinct culture in Kaohsiung. I hope performances and exhibitions here will reflect our culture, not Taipei’s.

Liu Chun-sheng, 62, retired laborer: I worked in Tang-chung Iron­ works for forty years. When I started, we made only NT$7 [18 cents] a day, and those were twelve-to sixteen-hour days! Life was hard back then. After we held a strike and demonstrated in front of the Pro­vincial Assembly, things started to im­prove.

By the time I retired, I was working eight hours a day. I got regular holidays, and I was earning more than NT$40,000 [US$1,500] a month. I worked the night shift, and played trumpet for weddings and funerals during the day. Brides used to ride in a palanquin, now they ride in cars. Here in Kaohsiung, we’re still in touch with our traditions. People in Taipei don’t hire traditional bands to play at weddings anymore, but we still do.

Hsueh Yi-ping 31, bakery em­ployee: Taipei has monopolized Taiwan’s media, and it presents a negative image of Kaohsiung. People up north planning to come here used to be warned, “Don’t for­get to wear a flak jacket.” [Roughly fifteen years ago, murders and gun-related crimes were a serious problem in Kaohsiung.] The term “cultural desert” has been attached to us. As a result, Kaohsiung people, mostly laborers who don’t have much formal education, haven’t much self-esteem. People here don’t see the good things they have. Instead of exploring the past in search of their identity, they tear down old houses and build modern skyscrapers. And when they go to Taipei, very few are proud to say, “I’m from Kaohsiung.”

That doesn’t mean that we don’t love our home. On the contrary, whereas Tai­pei people are motivated by money and profit, people here are driven by passion and enthusiasm. We form groups to clean up the local environment, and these are not subsidized by the government.

People here act on the spur of the moment—we call it “asali.” [The term comes from the Japanese word for “spon­taneity.”] Kaohsiung people have strong feelings for their city. Last year, the Tatung Department Store [the city’s oldest department store] burned down, and people mourned as if they’d lost a member of the family.

True, Kaohsiung still has a long way to go. The same artistic activities require more promotion here to get public re­sponse than they would in Taipei. And many people here buy bottled drinking water every day without questioning the government about the city’s poor water quality. But if people get a traffic ticket, they’ll go straight to their city councilor. Only when we reach a consensus about our cultural identity will we be able to see beyond our individual interests and really improve our city.

Sherry Wang, 25, hotel reception­ist: Taipei people consider themselves more cultivated than us. But if that’s true, why do they act like snobs, behave rudely, and look down on us? Hotel guests from Taipei are really picky. They always want more service for less money. Locals who want to enjoy a luxurious night out also come here. They spend their money more freely and give tips.

Every day when I read the newspaper, I can’t help noticing that the so-called “na­tional” news is actually just Taipei news. Events in Kaohsiung are only reported occasionally, and they seem to be regarded as unimportant. But the China Times now has a southern edition. I hope to see more of that from other media.

Tsai Sheng-hsiung, 58, senior high school teacher and head of the Kao­hsiung Running Club: Our sunshine gives us great vitality and energy. We are passionate and direct in expressing our feelings. Taipei has passed its prime and is in decline, but we still have so much un­tapped potential. Kaohsiung has a very good economic and industrial infrastruc­ture, but it’s lacking in culture. The Kaohsiung Museum of Fine Arts, for ex­ample, cost a lot of money to buiId, but has really let us down. The building and the space are wonderful, but it hosts so few exhibits, and the ones it does are pretty lousy.

Huang Neng-hsien, 43, head of Liu Ho Night Market Association: I was very nervous when I went to Taipei for the first time. People there walked so fast. I couldn’t keep up. And they had a very dif­ferent way of doing business. I went past a snack shop once, and the owner smiled at me and invited me in. When he found out that I didn’t intend to eat anything, his smile vanished and he threw me out. Tai­pei people are too practical. People here are much more friendly. When we do busi­ness, we welcome our customers, even if they only want to chat and not buy any­thing. For example, my friend in the night market sells pork broth with mushrooms, and so do I. If we were Taipei people, we’d probably be bitter business rivals. But in­stead, we share our experience and even our customers. It’s a strange thing, but when Taipei people move to Kaohsiung, they become as friendly as we are.

I’ve been in this business for thirty­-five years. This road where we set up our market each night used to be paved with stones, now it’s asphalt. Our electric gen­erators had to be started with a hand crank, and all our chairs were made of bamboo. Now they’re made of stainless steel.

The number of stands in the market has grown from ten to a hundred and fifty, and each one is registered with the city government. Things are changing fast, but we still use makeshift food stands, and we spend as much time setting up and breaking down our stands as on doing business. In Taipei’s tourist night markets they have permanent stands and roofs over every­thing. I wish we had that. I think it’s a good thing that Kaohsiung is becoming more international. I can say “welcome” in seven languages.

Tsao Chin-lang, 23, disco pub employee: Young people in Kaohsiung enjoy the same kinds of things as young people in Taipei. We go joy riding on motorcycles, and go to discos and pubs, but there are fewer places for us to hang out at night. Taipei has used up every inch of its available space, but Kaohsiung is still wide open. And in Taipei, people have much more access to culture and art than we do. Kaohsiung only has a cultural center and an art museum. Actually, a lot of our customers go to art exhibits or performances during the daytime, and come here at night. The two activities are not in conflict at all.

Ken Chao, 17, senior high school student: We’re not as smart as Taipei peo­ple, and our clothes aren’t as fashionable as theirs. Our language is low class, and our public officials often act like idiots. But so what? We are what we are. And we have our pride. It wouldn’t be much fun to be from Taipei. Students in Kaohsiung are strong in mathematics and physics, while students in Taipei are strong in Chinese, history, and English. That’s because we aren’t as exposed to culture and the inter­national community as they are.

Tsui Tai-hua, 32, furniture store saleswoman: I worked in Taipei for about six months once, and I couldn’t stand the weather. The “plum rain season” lasted so long. It rained all the time and everything was wet. And the winter was very cold. I missed Kaohsiung’s sunshine so much that I had to come back.

People here are more hospitable than in Taipei. When we dine out together, we always want to treat each other. Taipei people are more likely to pay for them­selves. Taipei people also have access to much more information and new trends, so they tend to be more open-minded, knowIedgeable, and tolerant of new ideas. But they’re also a lot more wary of other peo­ple. It’s difficult to make friends with them.

Chen Shu-mei, 37, restaurant owner: I live in Kaohsiung’s commercial district, so my impression of Taipei peo­ple is based on encounters with people from there. They are shrewd, and they’re fast-talkers. I can never tell when they’re telling the truth, and when they’re not. They’re used to such a fast-paced lifestyle that they don’t have time to care about other people.

But Taipei people have their good points. They’re well-educated, and are more conscious of their civil rights. Most people in Kaohsiung are blue-collar work­ers. They’re still learning how to protect their rights. Public playground equipment, for example, isn't safe for children. But people just live with it.

My husband and I often attend lectures by visiting scholars from Taipei, and my children take piano and folk-dancing lessons. I think Kaohsiung is caatching up with Taipei in terms of education and culture, but I sure hope that we don't adopt Taipei people's indifference toward one another. 

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