Those gathering at Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall on Saturday afternoon for the second annual Taiwan Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender Pride Parade (台灣同志大遊行) were greeted by admonitions from a Christian group warning homosexuals, "If you do not change your sexuality, you will not enter heaven."
Another group of Christians took a more embracing approach, choosing rather to invite parade-goers to Sunday church services. But while the church took a divided stance, Taiwan's homosexual community chose to unite.
PHOTOS: JULES QUARTLY, TAIPEI TIMES
Organizers estimated around 3,000 people turned up to have their voices heard, their presence felt, and -- because it was a parade -- to fill the streets with music, dancing and bacchanalian revelry.
The parade gathered followers, both gay and straight, as it flowed past 228 Park, a well-known homosexual enclave immortalized in novelist Kenneth Pai's (
One female marcher who joined the party said, "I'm not gay, but I came because I have many gay friends and I want to support them."
Parade organizers from the Taiwan Tongzhi Hotline Association (
Despite fears of facing the media cameras, many young gays came out of the proverbial closet in order to support the Parade and their community.
"I know my parents might see me, but I think it is also important for me to be here," said one university student attending the parade.
Excited photographers captured images of a small minority of parade goers dressed in various costumes, including a group dressed as the holy figure Kuan Yin, a group of young men called the Waterboys clad in just Speedos, as well as drag queens wearing costume jewelery and thick layers of make-up.
What most photographers did not capture were images of followers carrying an AIDS quilt, or quiet homosexual couples marching hand-in-hand, some boasting legally unrecognized unions outlasting many heterosexual marriages.
The fact that the parade-goers did not encounter much societal disapprobation, save the Christian saviors and the occasional annoyed motorist, might cast Taiwan as a gay-friendly Shangri La.
However, when the Parade spilled into the courtyard outside Red Playhouse in Ximending, two homosexuals from Kaohsiung testified to the contrary, reporting frequent police harassment and gay arrests on trumped-up charges.
This testimonial from the south both underscored Taipei's unique position as a liberal outpost in Taiwan and also the need for similar gatherings that will further shed light on existing discrimination.
Following the sober reminders, organizers attempted to rally the group into repeating various contrived chants of resistance borrowed from similar protests rallies around the world. It was a call to action that did not quite pass muster with the crowd. However, pop-diva Sandy Chen (
Other public figures, including university professors and Taiwanese starlets, taped messages that were broadcast on the large screen across from the Ximending MRT station.
DJ Victor Cheng, who mixed records and led the parade on a truck with a sound system, summed up this year's Pride Parade thus: "When my friends try to compare this parade to larger events in the US, I remind them that this is how parades in the US got their start ... the turnout this year proves that the parade will continue to become stronger."
Last year, 1,000 people participated and the larger-scale event this year may indeed bode well for the Pride Parade's future in Taiwan, yet one attendee took a more jaded and perhaps more realistic view of Taiwan's state of affairs. "Society doesn't have a problem with gay people in the public sphere, but when gays enter the home, when a gay is in their family, that's where they draw the line."
True enough, unlike similar manifestations in New York, San Francisco, or Sydney, one did not catch a glimpse of parents out to support their gay children. But reaching that level of acceptance might be a long-term project, or at least an aspiration for the next Taiwan Pride Parade.
If one asks Taiwanese why house prices are so high or why the nation is so built up or why certain policies cannot be carried out, one common answer is that “Taiwan is too small.” This is actually true, though not in the way people think. The National Property Administration (NPA), responsible for tracking and managing the government’s real estate assets, maintains statistics on how much land the government owns. As of the end of last year, land for official use constituted 293,655 hectares, for public use 1,732,513 hectares, for non-public use 216,972 hectares and for state enterprises 34 hectares, yielding
The small platform at Duoliang Train Station in Taitung County’s Taimali Township (太麻里) served villagers from 1992 to 2006, but was eventually shut down due to lack of use. Just 10 years later, the abandoned train station had become widely known as the most beautiful station in Taiwan, and visitors were so frequent that the village had to start restricting traffic. Nowadays, Duoliang Village (多良) is known as a bit of a tourist trap, with a mandatory, albeit modest, admission fee of NT$10 giving access to a crowded lane of vendors with a mediocre view of the ocean and the trains
Traditionally, indigenous people in Taiwan’s mountains practice swidden cultivation, or “slash and burn” agriculture, a practice common in human history. According to a 2016 research article in the International Journal of Environmental Sustainability, among the Atayal people, this began with a search for suitable forested slopeland. The trees are burnt for fertilizer and the land cleared of stones. The stones and wood are then piled up to make fences, while both dead and standing trees are retained on the plot. The fences are used to grow climbing crops like squash and beans. The plot itself supports farming for three years.
President William Lai (賴清德) on Nov. 25 last year announced in a Washington Post op-ed that “my government will introduce a historic US$40 billion supplementary defense budget, an investment that underscores our commitment to defending Taiwan’s democracy.” Lai promised “significant new arms acquisitions from the United States” and to “invest in cutting-edge technologies and expand Taiwan’s defense industrial base,” to “bolster deterrence by inserting greater costs and uncertainties into Beijing’s decision-making on the use of force.” Announcing it in the Washington Post was a strategic gamble, both geopolitically and domestically, with Taiwan’s international credibility at stake. But Lai’s message was exactly
RSS