It all started from six cassette tapes Kasepelane Legeane brought back to Taipei after her father passed away about 10 years ago.
Legeane had no idea what her father, a respected warrior-hunter of the Rukai tribe, recorded in those tapes. She played them one day out of sheer curiosity.
Legeane had pretty much lost touch with her culture after leaving the tribal village after elementary school. She says her father tried to teach her the Rukai ways but she never took it seriously.
Photo courtesy of Kasepelane Legeane
In the first tape, she learned about her father’s life as a warrior and his glorious hunting moments. She was captivated by the recordings, full of familiar tribal legends and detailed cultural lessons that she had forgotten.
Since then, Legeane, who commonly uses her Chinese name Ko Chu-hua (柯菊華), has devoted her free time to researching and promoting her culture and language. She has been a TV anchor for Rukai news and is creating teaching materials at National Chengchi University. Despite having a full-time job at a hospital, every weekend she teaches Rukai language and customs to about 20 students of various ages.
“It’s a lot of work, but someone has to do it,” she says. “In the village you learn naturally, but in Taipei you need teachers.”
HARVEST FESTIVAL
Legeane is also the driving force behind the Taipei Metropolitan Rukai Harvest Festival (台北市都會魯凱族豐收祭), set for Saturday at Taipei Water Park (台北自來水園區) in the city’s Gongguan area (公館).
These festivals are traditionally held in mid-August to celebrate the millet harvest.
“Aboriginal children living in the city don’t have many opportunities to take part in festivals like this,” she says. “Many have never put on a traditional costume. That’s a pity. But even if they don’t know anything about the culture, I hope they can participate and discover a sense of identity.”
The white lily flower is the symbol of the festival, which Legeane says is traditionally worn by warriors and pure maidens. A Rukai man becomes a warrior after successfully hunting five wild pigs and earning the village’s approval through a ritual.
Traditionally, harvest festivals also include many competitions. Due to the small Rukai population in Taipei, Legeane decided to go with a pure performance format, incorporating song, dance and theater.
“Some may think it’s not suitable to have a festival in Taipei,” Legeane says. “But I want to break through this way of thinking. I think we can use different methods as long as we don’t stray from the festival’s main essence.”
After teaching with a textbook for many years, Legeane found that performing arts was a more efficient vehicle. Her students have won awards in Aboriginal drama competitions, which further motivates them to attend class.
Her students, from toddlers to adults, will perform a play based on a tribal myth that Legeane collected from her village, adapted into a play and translated into Rukai.
All performances and announcements will be in Rukai, though there will be Chinese translators.
Legeane has also invited tribesmen from the villages to perform a warrior dance, play music and set up a traditional rope swing.
Traditionally, warriors would help unmarried women swing in the air, and a mother would look at how high a woman can swing and her posture to decide if she were a suitable bride for her son, Legeane says.
Legeane hopes non-Aboriginal people can also attend and even take part in the dancing. There will be a portion of the festival where anyone can join the stage.
PASSING ON THE TORCH
While Legeane plans to make the festival an annual event, she says she needs the younger generation to step up and eventually take over her role. A few of her older students have answered the call, helping with administrative and public relations duties.
Rheserhese Tuluan is one of them. She grew up with her tribe but left to attend high school in the city. She later settled in Taipei with her husband — also Rukai.
Not having much contact with her culture for many years, Tuluan says she can still understand Rukai but has trouble speaking it. Her husband barely speaks.
“You just don’t have the environment or time to maintain your culture,” she says. “Some of us even have to learn Hoklo for work. I’ve always been interested. I just didn’t have a chance.”
It wasn’t until the birth of their son — now four years old — that Tuluan and her husband realized the importance of passing on their heritage. They met Legeane about two years ago and started attending her lessons, bringing their son along.
“If there’s any activity, we’ll go help out however we can — even if it means taking time off work,” Tuluan says. “It’s very important, especially because our son is watching what we do.”
Her son can now sing Rukai songs, and his parents explain to him what the lyrics mean in Chinese. Tuluan also tries to speak basic Rukai phrases with him such as “time to eat” and “hurry up.”
RUKAI PRIDE
Things may be changing now, but for many young urban Aborigines, growing up in Taipei wasn’t easy.
Lrangepaw Dingiruru, now a college student, moved to Taipei during elementary school. He’s been taking lessons from Legeane for many years. Today, he is proud that he is knowledgeable about his culture, but that wasn’t always the case.
Frequently discriminated against in school due to his appearance, he says he would never mention his heritage or speak Rukai in front of his classmates.
“Later, I realized that I had ignored who I am,” he says. “I’m an Aborigine. I’m from the Rukai tribe. Why was I acting this way? So I decided to bravely tell everyone.”
And on Saturday, in a full Rukai costume ready to dance, Lrangepaw will be doing more than just telling.
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