It’s as if the outside world conspired to rob Yanshuei (鹽水) of its importance and prosperity.
As waterways filled with silt, access to the ocean — which had made it possible for this little town, several kilometers from the sea in the northern part of Tainan, to become a major entrepot — was lost. The north-south railway, a key driver of economic development during the 1895-1945 period of Japanese rule, never arrived. Then, in the 1970s, the sugar industry went into terminal decline.
Like Taiwan’s other old settlements, Yanshuei used to be a walled town. The defensive barrier is long gone, but there’s a reminder of the gates through which humans, horses and bullock carts entered and left in the form of street names.
Photo: Steven Crook
HISTORIC STREETS
The Martial Temple (武廟), a co-organizer of the annual Beehive Fireworks Festival (鹽水蜂炮), is at the intersection of Beimen Road (北門路, North Gate Road) and Wumiao Road (武廟路). The festival, which celebrates the end of a cholera outbreak that ravaged the town more than 130 years ago, gets its name from the fireworks holders that are positioned around the town. When the fuse on one is lit, thousands of bottle rockets screech out, much like angry bees.
Photo: Steven Crook
Yanshuei’s most interesting place of worship stands at 19 Simen Road (西門路, West Gate Road). On the outside, the Holy Trinity Catholic Church and Monastery of St Clare (鹽水天主堂) is unexceptional. Its interior, however, is captivating.
A huge depiction of the “last supper” is one of the highlights. In it, Christ and each of his apostles have Asian facial features and wear traditional Chinese garb. There are chopsticks and plates of steamed buns on the table.
Part of Nanmen Road (南門路, South Gate Road) runs parallel with Ciaonan Street (橋南街, South of the Bridge Street), one of the oldest thoroughfares in south Taiwan.
Photo: Steven Crook
Beginning my most recent walking tour of the town near Ciaonan Street, I was pleased to see that urban beautification efforts have turned what used to be Yanshuei’s docklands into an attractive green corridor. Now called Yuejingang Waterside Park (月津港親水公園), it’s certainly a pleasant spot for a picnic. But for anyone wishing to see what remains of the town’s history, it’s a very minor attraction.
On Ciaonan Street, there are several single-story houses made mainly of wood, and a few of them could be 200 years old. An unnumbered lane gives access to the backs of the buildings on the east side of the street; walking down it, I wasn’t surprised to see that some of the more traditional structures are in a very sorry state indeed.
Circling around onto the street itself, I tried to peek into No. 25. Years ago, it was the site of a small museum displaying household antiques. It looks like it could survive a few more decades, if the owners allow that. The plots on either side have been cleared.
Photo: Steven Crook
Ciaonan Street’s most famous resident is a sixth-generation blacksmith who plies his trade the old-fashioned way. At Chuan Li Blacksmith Shop (泉利鐵店) at No. 8, where his father and grandfather used to make farmers’ tools, he forges decorative items for tourists.
FAMOUS NOODLES
Lunchtime was approaching, so I did what I usually do in Yanshuei: Head for the covered food court at the intersection of Kangle Road (康樂路) and Jhongshan Road (中山路), and sit down at A-San’s Egg Noodles (阿三意麵) for a portion of the unpretentious dish that gives this decades-old eatery its name.
Like other noodle dishes in Taiwan, Yanshuei Egg Noodles (鹽水意麵) is flavored with a meat sauce assembled from small chunks of pork, a little soy sauce, some garlic and chives, and bean sprouts. The noodles are thin and flat.
A-San’s (open from 7am to 5:30pm every day except Thursday) offers both dry and soupy versions of its noodle dishes. Various side dishes are available; nothing costs more than NT$50.
While eating, I couldn’t help but notice that the food court was mostly unoccupied. Has COVID-19 caused several vendors to go out of business?
There’s a restored movie theater a stone’s throw south of the food court. Yongcheng Theater (永成戲院) was built during the Japanese period. It served as a rice mill until late 1945, when it was repurposed into a place of entertainment.
The theater was closed at the time of my visit. If you want to see the interior of this elegant landmark, visit between 1:30pm and 5:30pm on Wednesday, Thursday or Friday, or between 9:30am and 5:30pm on weekends.
Every time I’m in Yanshuei, I try to get lost in backstreets, in the hope I’ll stumble across some characterful vernacular architecture.
Sometimes, it’s just a doorway. Other times, it’s a complete house. On this occasion, it was what appeared to be a ground-up reconstruction of a traditional home on Lane 4, Minsheng Street (民生街4巷). I saw no indication that this was a government project. It’s uplifting to know there are people willing to spend their own money to retain Yanshuei’s character.
DRIFTING WESTWARD
I was also pleased to see that the Octagonal Building (八角樓) is still in excellent condition.
This landmark was constructed circa 1847 as part of a luxurious mansion for sugar magnate Yeh Kai-hung (葉開鴻). The rest of the complex is long gone, but the two-story pavilion continues to grace Jhongshan Road, between the post office and the intersection with Jhongjheng Road (中正路).
These days, because of the pandemic, visitors can only gaze at the exterior from the street. In the past, the ground floor was usually open. One time, the family who owns the building showed me around both the lower and mainly-timber upper part — and confirmed that, during the Beehive Fireworks Festival, there’s always someone at the ready with a bucket of water and a fire extinguisher, in case a smoldering bottle rocket gets lodged in the woodwork.
Continuing my westward drift, I ended up across the road from the town’s junior high school at Yanshuei Railway Station. Hold on: At the start of this article, didn’t I say that the railway never came through the town?
I did say that, and it didn’t. The station here was part of the Taiwan Sugar Corporation (台糖, TSC) rail network. Built to haul cane to sugar factories, between 1945 and 1982 the narrow-gauge system also ferried passengers between small towns and points on the north-south line.
I’d been to the station before, but had no recollection of the adjacent warehouses. These buildings lost their roofs long ago, and have been colonized by banyan trees. If you do come here, be sure to bring your camera: They’re quite a sight.
Steven Crook has been writing about travel, culture and business in Taiwan since 1996. He is the author of Taiwan: The Bradt Travel Guide and co-author of A Culinary History of Taipei: Beyond Pork and Ponlai.
If one asks Taiwanese why house prices are so high or why the nation is so built up or why certain policies cannot be carried out, one common answer is that “Taiwan is too small.” This is actually true, though not in the way people think. The National Property Administration (NPA), responsible for tracking and managing the government’s real estate assets, maintains statistics on how much land the government owns. As of the end of last year, land for official use constituted 293,655 hectares, for public use 1,732,513 hectares, for non-public use 216,972 hectares and for state enterprises 34 hectares, yielding
The small platform at Duoliang Train Station in Taitung County’s Taimali Township (太麻里) served villagers from 1992 to 2006, but was eventually shut down due to lack of use. Just 10 years later, the abandoned train station had become widely known as the most beautiful station in Taiwan, and visitors were so frequent that the village had to start restricting traffic. Nowadays, Duoliang Village (多良) is known as a bit of a tourist trap, with a mandatory, albeit modest, admission fee of NT$10 giving access to a crowded lane of vendors with a mediocre view of the ocean and the trains
Traditionally, indigenous people in Taiwan’s mountains practice swidden cultivation, or “slash and burn” agriculture, a practice common in human history. According to a 2016 research article in the International Journal of Environmental Sustainability, among the Atayal people, this began with a search for suitable forested slopeland. The trees are burnt for fertilizer and the land cleared of stones. The stones and wood are then piled up to make fences, while both dead and standing trees are retained on the plot. The fences are used to grow climbing crops like squash and beans. The plot itself supports farming for three years.
For many people, Bilingual Nation 2030 begins and ends in the classroom. Since the policy was launched in 2018, the debate has centered on students, teachers and the pressure placed on schools. Yet the policy was never solely about English education. The government’s official plan also calls for bilingualization in Taiwan’s government services, laws and regulations, and living environment. The goal is to make Taiwan more inclusive and accessible to international enterprises and talent and better prepared for global economic and trade conditions. After eight years, that grand vision is due for a pulse check. RULES THAT CAN BE READ For Harper Chen (陳虹宇), an adviser