Chen Yo-jung (
It has been a long journey that has taken him to his current position. It all started when he left Taiwan 40 years ago, and although he is fluent in several languages, still feels obliged to parry any misconceptions.
PHOTO: SHIGEHARU HIGASHI, CULTURAL NEWS
"Every time I introduce myself in a speech, I start off by saying: `Let me assure you that I am not a Japanese tourist who came to the wrong party ...,'" he said jokingly.
In fact, Chen has often found himself in the right place at the right time, although his route to a senior appointment in the French diplomatic service was definitely unconventional. Unlike his brother, who had gone to France for advanced studies, Chen was sent to follow in the footsteps of his father and grandfather by going to Keio University in Japan.
"As a Keio graduate student, I also worked part-time teaching Japanese to a group of foreigners, including the wife of a French diplomat," Chen recalled. "She introduced me to another French diplomat who wanted to learn Chinese. This man then introduced me to the press counselor at the French embassy in Tokyo who wanted to hire a French-Japanese translator in preparation for the up coming state visit by the then French President Georges Pompidou. I got the job, and a door opened to a whole new future."
This assignment led to a a part-time job as a translator for the French ambassador in Tokyo in 1973 and in 1974. When he completed his master's degree at Keio, he was offered a full-time job at the French embassy.
"The job involved dealing with various VIPs, world affairs, international events and it was so fascinating that I finally gave up the idea of pursuing an academic career and decided to stay on at the French embassy in Tokyo," Chen said.
Thinking of future security, Chen, who had married to Michiko Nakajima, a Japanese national, felt that his Hong Kong passport did not give his family sufficient protection and decided to apply for Japanese citizenship, despite its requirement, at that time, that approved applicants take a Japanese name. Chen, was not too keen on this, but when he brought his difficulties to the ambassador, the situation was quickly resolved with the suggestion that he take French citizenship instead.
"The ambassador even said to me it would be a great honor for France to count such a talented Chinese translator as one of its citizens and that he wished to see my talents put to the service of France," Chen recalled. "I was touched by his remarks."
Working for the French embassy meant that Chen was able to meet residency qualifications for French citizenship, without actually having to live in France, since the embassy in Tokyo was considered French territory.
"In 1981 I found myself a French citizen in Japan -- without ever once having set foot on French soil," Chen said.
In 1994, Chen went to Paris to take the foreign service examination and became a fully-fledged diplomat, then returned to Tokyo with the title of vice consul. He had a wonderful job, a bright future as a career diplomat for his adopted country and was also allowed to keep his original name.
Chen's family background -- his father was a specialist in Southeast Asian history at National Taiwan University and his mother was the daughter of a high-ranking Vietnamese scholar -- made him multilingual from an early age. The family also moved often, giving Chen broad experience.
"It was in Vietnam that I first became acquainted with French education," Chen said. "I spent two years at two different Catholic schools where French was the language of instruction." He continued his study of the language at a variety of French overseas schools after his father moved to Hong Kong in 1962.
Now, as a member of one of one of the world's most outstanding diplomatic services, Chen has reason to be pleased. "I must say I was amazed at finding myself in the heart of one of the world's most prestigious foreign service organizations," Chen said. "I also enjoy seeing the initial surprise on the faces of Asian journalists when they visit our department in Paris for briefings. For many of the Japanese and Chinese reporters, to be greeted by someone like me speaking their native tongue was unbelievable to them."
June 2 to June 8 Taiwan’s woodcutters believe that if they see even one speck of red in their cooked rice, no matter how small, an accident is going to happen. Peng Chin-tian (彭錦田) swears that this has proven to be true at every stop during his decades-long career in the logging industry. Along with mining, timber harvesting was once considered the most dangerous profession in Taiwan. Not only were mishaps common during all stages of processing, it was difficult to transport the injured to get medical treatment. Many died during the arduous journey. Peng recounts some of his accidents in
“Why does Taiwan identity decline?”a group of researchers lead by University of Nevada political scientist Austin Wang (王宏恩) asked in a recent paper. After all, it is not difficult to explain the rise in Taiwanese identity after the early 1990s. But no model predicted its decline during the 2016-2018 period, they say. After testing various alternative explanations, Wang et al argue that the fall-off in Taiwanese identity during that period is related to voter hedging based on the performance of the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP). Since the DPP is perceived as the guardian of Taiwan identity, when it performs well,
A short walk beneath the dense Amazon canopy, the forest abruptly opens up. Fallen logs are rotting, the trees grow sparser and the temperature rises in places sunlight hits the ground. This is what 24 years of severe drought looks like in the world’s largest rainforest. But this patch of degraded forest, about the size of a soccer field, is a scientific experiment. Launched in 2000 by Brazilian and British scientists, Esecaflor — short for “Forest Drought Study Project” in Portuguese — set out to simulate a future in which the changing climate could deplete the Amazon of rainfall. It is
The Taiwan People’s Party (TPP) on May 18 held a rally in Taichung to mark the anniversary of President William Lai’s (賴清德) inauguration on May 20. The title of the rally could be loosely translated to “May 18 recall fraudulent goods” (518退貨ㄌㄨㄚˋ!). Unlike in English, where the terms are the same, “recall” (退貨) in this context refers to product recalls due to damaged, defective or fraudulent merchandise, not the political recalls (罷免) currently dominating the headlines. I attended the rally to determine if the impression was correct that the TPP under party Chairman Huang Kuo-Chang (黃國昌) had little of a