One episode in Taiwan’s forgotten, even deliberately buried, past has been recovered in the documentary Wansei Back Home (灣生回家). It starts in Jian Township (吉安), Hualien County, where few can recall life during the Japanese colonial era, when the place was known as Yoshino Village. It was one of the first Japanese settlements in Taiwan, built to encourage Japanese families to emigrate to the new colony.
Japanese settlers came with everything they had and a one-way ticket. They farmed, went to school and gradually made Taiwan their home. Then in August 1945 Japan surrendered to the Allies, ending World War II. More than 470,000 Japanese were repatriated, with over half that number accounting for wansei, or Japanese citizens born in Taiwan during the colonial period from 1895 to 1945.
These wansei, many of whom considered Taiwan their home, were met with discrimination and hostility upon returning home to post-war Japan.
Photo courtesy of Activator Marketing Company
Wansei Back Home began as a personal project when Mika Tanaka first visited Jian in 2003, when she was determined to learn more about her late grandmother, who had kept her wansei identity secret.
Since then, Tanaka has found over 200 survivors, most in their 70s and 80s, across Japan and Taiwan. She teamed up with a Taiwanese film crew, including director Huang Ming-cheng (黃銘正) and composer Baby C (鍾興民), and produced an intimate, heartfelt portrait of the wansei through interviews, old photographs, archival footage and animated sequences.
As the wansei visit their childhood homes, it immediately becomes apparent that they’ve maintained a deep connection to Taiwan.
Photo courtesy of Activator Marketing Company
Eighty-eight year-old Masaru Tominaga, for example, can still speak Hoklo and sing old Taiwanese ballads such as Flowers in the Rainy Night (雨夜花). His home in Tokushima is crammed with books about Taiwan. During his trip to Hualien, the octogenarian bursts into tears when he learns that all his old friends have passed away.
Kosei Matsumoto, who also visited Hualien, says that growing up the child of farmers in Taiwan made it extremely difficult to assimilate into Japanese society. Nobuko Takenaka says repatriation was particularly daunting for her family, who had settled in Suao for three generations before the end of World War II.
Eighty-five year-old Taeko Iekura agrees. However, she adds that she has come to terms with the fact that her birth in Taiwan has forever branded her a foreigner in Japan.
Photo courtesy of Activator Marketing Company
Although many wansei recall with nostalgia their life in Taiwan and the hardship and poverty they faced after they arrived in Japan, the documentary largely avoids direct criticism.
Iekura says that even though her father worked as a government official at the Office of the Governor-General of Taiwan, her family had no place to live after returning to Japan and were forced to seek shelter at different temples.
With its rarely discussed and obscure subject matter, Wansei Back Home calls out for deeper treatment than is offered here. Nevertheless, the film makes an adequate attempt at rediscovering personal histories and serves as a starting point for those interested in examining more about the past before those who can narrate it first hand disappear.
Seven hundred job applications. One interview. Marco Mascaro arrived in Taiwan last year with a PhD in engineering physics and years of experience at a European research center. He thought his Gold Card would guarantee him a foothold in Taiwan’s job market. “It’s marketed as if Taiwan really needs you,” the 33-year-old Italian says. “The reality is that companies here don’t really need us.” The Employment Gold Card was designed to fix Taiwan’s labor shortage by offering foreign professionals a combined resident visa and open work permit valid for three years. But for many, like Mascaro, the welcome mat ends at the door. A
The Western media once again enthusiastically forwarded Beijing’s talking points on Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi’s comment two weeks ago that an attack by the People’s Republic of China (PRC) on Taiwan was an existential threat to Japan and would trigger Japanese military intervention in defense of Taiwan. The predictable reach for clickbait meant that a string of teachable moments was lost, “like tears in the rain.” Again. The Economist led the way, assigning the blame to the victim. “Takaichi Sanae was bound to rile China sooner rather than later,” the magazine asserted. It then explained: “Japan’s new prime minister is
NOV. 24 to NOV. 30 It wasn’t famine, disaster or war that drove the people of Soansai to flee their homeland, but a blanket-stealing demon. At least that’s how Poan Yu-pie (潘有秘), a resident of the Indigenous settlement of Kipatauw in what is today Taipei’s Beitou District (北投), told it to Japanese anthropologist Kanori Ino in 1897. Unable to sleep out of fear, the villagers built a raft large enough to fit everyone and set sail. They drifted for days before arriving at what is now Shenao Port (深奧) on Taiwan’s north coast,
Divadlo feels like your warm neighborhood slice of home — even if you’ve only ever spent a few days in Prague, like myself. A projector is screening retro animations by Czech director Karel Zeman, the shelves are lined with books and vinyl, and the owner will sit with you to share stories over a glass of pear brandy. The food is also fantastic, not just a new cultural experience but filled with nostalgia, recipes from home and laden with soul-warming carbs, perfect as the weather turns chilly. A Prague native, Kaio Picha has been in Taipei for 13 years and