At a time when the gap between rich and poor is growing, housing is increasingly out of reach for the middle class, and the government seems to favor large corporations, it’s no surprise that the story of “Taiwan’s Robin Hood” (台灣羅賓漢) still resonates.
Xia Hai City God Temple (霞海城隍廟), located in Dadaocheng’s (大稻埕) historical Dihua Street (迪化街), will hold events on Monday to pay homage to Liao Tien-ding (廖添丁), a celebrated outlaw active in Taiwan over a century ago who was the bane of Japanese authorities and wealthy families that benefited from the colonial government’s largesse.
A prayer ritual will also be held at 10am on Sunday at Hanmin Temple (漢民祠) in Bali District (八里), New Taipei City. The temple was built in Liao’s honor.
Photo courtesy of Xia Hai City God Temple
Xia Hai temple spokesperson Titan Wu (吳孟寰) said Liao’s exploits, which include killing a police informer in Keelung (基隆), robbing tea merchants in Shilin (士林) and stealing guns and ammo from a police station in Dadaocheng, have led many to dub him “Taiwan’s Robin Hood” because he stood up to the colonial rulers and divided his booty among the poor.
Wu said that one legend relates how Liao stole money from a wealthy merchant in Dadaocheng and placed the loot under a table inside Xia Hai City God Temple.
“He then told temple officials to distribute the money to the poor people squatting outside the temple,” Wu said.
Photo courtesy of Xia Hai City God Temple
He added that many in contemporary society could learn something from Liao’s public-spiritedness.
“Today’s social order is extremely chaotic, and people have little sense of morality. [Liao] can serve as an example for people to follow,” Wu said.
Monday’s events kick off at 10am with a prayer ceremony to Liao at Xia Hai. At 12pm, the temple will distribute red turtle cakes (紅龜粿), a pastry made from glutinous rice and sugar that many believe can ward off evil and bring prosperity, Wu said.
Celebrations end with an opera by Yihsin Opera Troupe (一心歌仔戲劇團) relating the life and times of Liao. The free performance, located next to the temple at Yongle Square (永樂廣場), begins at 7pm.
Born in 1885 to a peasant family in what is now Greater Taichung, Liao is said to have mastered martial arts at a young age before embarking on his adventures throughout northern Taiwan. Police eventually caught up with him at his hideout on Bali’s Guanyin Mountain (觀音山) in November 1909, where he was gunned down in a shootout.
With one week left until election day, the drama is high in the race for the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) chair. The race is still potentially wide open between the three frontrunners. The most accurate poll is done by Apollo Survey & Research Co (艾普羅民調公司), which was conducted a week and a half ago with two-thirds of the respondents party members, who are the only ones eligible to vote. For details on the candidates, check the Oct. 4 edition of this column, “A look at the KMT chair candidates” on page 12. The popular frontrunner was 56-year-old Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文)
“How China Threatens to Force Taiwan Into a Total Blackout” screamed a Wall Street Journal (WSJ) headline last week, yet another of the endless clickbait examples of the energy threat via blockade that doesn’t exist. Since the headline is recycled, I will recycle the rebuttal: once industrial power demand collapses (there’s a blockade so trade is gone, remember?) “a handful of shops and factories could run for months on coal and renewables, as Ko Yun-ling (柯昀伶) and Chao Chia-wei (趙家緯) pointed out in a piece at Taiwan Insight earlier this year.” Sadly, the existence of these facts will not stop the
Oct. 13 to Oct. 19 When ordered to resign from her teaching position in June 1928 due to her husband’s anti-colonial activities, Lin Shih-hao (林氏好) refused to back down. The next day, she still showed up at Tainan Second Preschool, where she was warned that she would be fired if she didn’t comply. Lin continued to ignore the orders and was eventually let go without severance — even losing her pay for that month. Rather than despairing, she found a non-government job and even joined her husband Lu Ping-ting’s (盧丙丁) non-violent resistance and labor rights movements. When the government’s 1931 crackdown
The first Monopoly set I ever owned was the one everyone had — the classic edition with Mr Monopoly on the box. I bought it as a souvenir on holiday in my 30s. Twenty-five years later, I’ve got thousands of boxes stacked away in a warehouse, four Guinness World Records and have made several TV appearances. When Guinness visited my warehouse last year, they spent a whole day counting my collection. By the end, they confirmed I had 4,379 different sets. That was the fourth time I’d broken the record. There are many variants of Monopoly, and countries and businesses are constantly