There is nothing fancy about Wawa No Cidal (太陽的孩子). It tells the straightforward story of an Amis woman trying to re-cultivate the farmland in her ancestral village. As simple as the production is, the film is also one of the most genuine and sincere works of filmmaking that have come out this year. Directing duo Cheng Yu-chieh (鄭有傑) and Lekal Sumi turn their lens to an Amis village on Taiwan’s east coast, creating a heartfelt human drama tackling the issues that are very close to the heart of anyone who is concerned with what has happened to the country’s indigenous communities.
The film begins with Panay, played by Amis musician and TV host Ado Kaliting Pacidal, returning home to the Amis community Makutaay in Hualien County. Like most villagers, Panay works in the city, leaving her daughter Nakaw (Dongi Kacaw) and son Sera (Rahic Gulas) in the care of her father, played by village elder Kaco Lekal.
Her father’s recently diagnosed cancer, however, forces Panay to rethink her priorities. She quits her job and moves back to the village to care for her family. But she soon finds out that her home is not what it used to be.
Photo courtesy of Activator Marketing
For one thing, exploitative tourism has caused damage to the environment and disrupted the local way of life. Many villagers now make money by singing and dancing to the influx of Chinese visitors who bring trash, noise and traffic jams to the once tranquil hamlet by the sea. Meanwhile, the development frenzy grips the region as local authorities and big corporations join forces to build parks and resorts on Amis ancestral land.
In an effort to help villagers gain more sources of income, Panay explores the possibility of re-cultivating the tribal farmland that has lain fallow for years. Her plan elicits doubts and suspicion among residents, while local bureaucrats prefer to support big, lucrative development projects instead of spending a few bucks on fixing dilapidated irrigation canals.
Determined, Panay manages to get a small university research grant and successfully persuades villagers to work together to restore the terrace to its former glory. Rice grows, turning the field into a lush vista of verdant green.
But little do the villagers know that the developer, backed up by the police, has other plans in mind.
A sense of authenticity permeates Wawa No Cidal. The mostly non-professional actors are Amis who face the same real-life dilemma as the characters in the film. The directors tackle the complex problems facing Taiwan’s indigenous communities.
The level of eloquence and lucidity partially owes to young filmmaker Sumi. Having grown up in Tainan, the director has reportedly returned to Makutaay, the birthplace of his mother, to seek his indigenous roots. His experience is no doubt told through the character of Panay, who not only returns home to reconnect with her heritage but is driven to earn the acceptance and trust of her people.
Consequently, the film is mostly based on real events. One seemingly far-fetched sequence in the film, for example, refers to the controversy a few years ago in which the local government seized Aboriginal land in Makutaay because the township office managed to lose the documents concerning the villagers’ applications for registering their land as a reserve.
Despite a somewhat flawed narrative and low production values, Wawa No Cidal is recommended to anyone who wishes to gain a basic understanding of the issues facing the country’s indigenous communities.
As mega K-pop group BTS returns to the stage after a hiatus of more than three years, one major market is conspicuously missing from its 12-month world tour: China. The omission of one of the group’s biggest fan bases comes as no surprise. In fact, just the opposite would have been huge news. China has blocked most South Korean entertainment since 2016 under an unofficial ban that also restricts movies and the country’s popular TV dramas. For some Chinese, that means flying to Seoul to see their favorite groups perform — as many were expected to do for three shows opening
Taiwan’s semiconductor industry consumes electricity at rates that would strain most national grids. Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co (TSMC) alone accounted for more than 9 percent, or 2,590 megawatts (MW), of the nation’s power demand last year. The factories that produce chips for the world’s phones and servers run around the clock. They cannot tolerate blackouts. Yet Taiwan imports 97 percent of its energy, with liquefied natural gas reserves measured in days. Underground, Taiwan has options. Studies from National Taiwan University estimate recoverable geothermal resources at more than 33,000 MW. Current installed capacity stands below 10 MW. OBSTACLES Despite Taiwan’s significant geothermal potential, the
The entire Li Zhenxiu (李貞秀) saga has been an ugly, complicated mess. Born in China’s Hunan Province, she moved to work in Shenzhen, where she met her future Taiwanese husband. Most accounts have her arriving in Taiwan and marrying somewhere between 1993 and 1999. She built a successful career in Taiwan in the tech industry before founding her own company. She also served in high-ranking positions on various environmentally-focused tech associations. She says she was inspired by the founding of the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) in 2019 by Ko Wen-je (柯文哲), and began volunteering for the party soon after. Ko
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chair Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) returned from her trip to meet People’s Republic of China (PRC) dictator Xi Jinping (習近平) bearing “a gift” for the people of Taiwan: 10 measures the PRC proposed to “facilitate the peaceful development of cross-strait relations.” “China on Sunday unveiled 10 new incentive measures for Taiwan,” wrote Reuters, wrongly. The PRC’s longstanding habit with Taiwan relations is to repackage already extant or once-existing policies and declare that they are “new.” The list forwarded by Cheng reflects that practice. NEW MEASURES? Note the first item: establishing regular communication mechanisms between the Chinese Communist Party
RSS