A Door in the Forest

A Door in the Forest

An abandoned bunker in the foothills of Yangmingshan.

Recently I went riding up Jiànnán Street (劍南街), a scenic mountain road connecting Zhongshan and Shilin. Along the way I noticed many bunkers and sentry posts, remnants of a time when this entire mountainside was under military control and strictly off-limits to civilians. One bunker in particular struck me as particularly pleasing, for it was little more than a door in the forest, a dark promise surrounded by a vivid shade of green. For reference, this place is located on the eastern flank of the modest Wénjiānshān (文間山), and for more about the area you can consult Chinese language blogs here and here.…

Chinese Chewing Gum

Chinese Chewing Gum

A betel nut stand in front of the train station in Shuili.

Recently I stopped in Shuili while on my way to Puli by scooter. There, while waiting out a rainstorm on the main street in front of the historic train station, I noticed an unusual betel nut booth with a fetching green sign. “Chinese chewing gum” is a curious phrase, not one I recall noticing before, and it is also peculiar to see an exclusively English sign out here in the mountainous heart of the nation. Searching around, I chanced upon a short documentary describing betel nut as Taiwan chewing gum, which still sounds somewhat odd. What sort of gum gets you high and stains your teeth red?…

Life Is a Gas

Gas tanks in Darong Village

Gas tanks next to an old tobacco barn in Eastern Taiwan.

Two weeks ago I noticed this stack of natural gas tanks outside the Fènglín Tobacco Barn 鳳林菸樓 in Dàróng First Village 大榮一村, one of several sites identified as Tobacco Barn Cultural Settlements 菸樓文化聚落 in the Huādōng Valley 花東縱谷. Having spent some time last year exploring remnants of the tobacco industry in Taichung I figured it might be interesting to sample what might be found out east. I’ll have more to share from that mission at a later date—but for now, these tanks shall serve as a placeholder for future elucidations.…

Inside the Decaying Courtyard

Inside the decaying courtyard

The view from within a decaying public housing block in downtown Taipei.

Yesterday I followed a lead to Lánzhōu Public Housing (蘭州國宅), a KMT authoritarian era project in central Datong, Taipei. It is similar to Nanjichang Community (南機場社區), a far more well-known housing project in Wanhua, but this building was constructed almost ten years later in 1973. As with Nanjichang, its fate also remains unclear, as the city is working through complex land ownership issues to figure out how to move residents into more modern housing. I plan to have a full write-up about this place some day so I’ll leave it at that for now—just a glimpse.…

Brutalist Parkade

Stripped down to the core in Caotun

Just a parking garage.

Cǎoxiédūn Public Parkade 草鞋墩公有立體停車場 is an intimidating structure looming over one of the main commercial shopping streets in Caotun, Taiwan. I was there in search of an abandoned theater but was immediately impressed with the strikingly brutalist design of this multi-storey car park. It is merely a place to park so there’s little more to say, though it would seem that it was recently derelict. Probably the only other tidbit of information worth conveying is that “Caoxiedun” refers to the original name of the town. You can be sure the first settlers never imagined this monument to honest architecture standing in their newly sown fields.…

Return to Sender

Return to sender

A vivid shade of blue adorns a derelict home in Wuri.

Yesterday I made a brief stop in Wuri to located and document the Japanese colonial era stationmaster residence. A metal fence has been erected outside the residence so I went for a walk around the perimeter to look for another point of entry. Along the way I passed several derelict and abandoned homes of a more recent vintage. These homes were constructed in a more provisional style common to the KMT authoritarian era and were probably built to house railway workers or military veterans and their dependents—but that’s just a guess. Whatever the case, I was momentarily transfixed by the vivid shade of blue on the trimmings of one of these modest homes and lined up a shot of the overstuffed mailbox worth sharing. You may also notice duplicate address plates which reminds me—I’d love to know when various versions of those plates entered into use in different districts.…

The Birdman of Taipei Station

The World in Aves’ Eyes

A bizarre work of public art in the bowels of Taipei Station.

This striking installation is one of the more iconic and well-known works of public art in Taipei. Created by artists Hé Cǎiróu 何采柔 and Guō Wéntài (郭文泰) in 2009, it is entitled The World in Aves’ Eyes (愛維思看世界), Birdperson (鳥人), or Daydreams (夢遊) and can be found somewhere in the labyrinthine passageways beneath Taipei Railway Station (臺北火車站). Apart from the obvious, the immature, androgynous figure holds a pencil in its right hand (never to write a word), water continuously seeps from its neck, and its feet show the signs of a mild case of pigeon toe, a condition that should be familiar to anyone who has seen young Taiwanese posing for photographs. Here is the original creative statement that accompanies the piece:

「愛維思看世界」以稚嫩的身體、怪誕逗趣的鳥頭以及輕輕淺淺的流水,表現出E世代對世界的困惑,身體的稚嫩感彷彿要告訴世界,還不急著要長大,而側著的鳥頭以不成比例的尺寸,誇張的標明著自我的異化感,猶如一位誤闖地球的外星人,在幽浮般的蛋殼中孵化而出。愛維思(Aves)搖搖晃晃的嘗試著適應這難以理解的世界,那漾漾清水則是一般腦傾洩而出的困惑,沒有黑暗、邪惡、憂傷或者種種成人世界裡的光怪色彩,愛維思(Aves)的苦惱是屬於孩童一般的天真困惑,在陽光的照耀下甚至會散射出七彩的光暈、迷霧而迷人。

My ability to translate Chinese remains limited, particularly when it comes to the sort of conceptual language employed above, but I’ll do my best to provide the gist. From what I can tell…

Clean Your Head

Ear cleaning shop in Wanhua

Here’s something you might not have seen before: a professional ear cleaning service in Wanhua! When I shot this photo while riding around a couple of months ago I assumed it was a run-of-the-mill ear, nose, and throat doctor with a quirky sign out front. Turns out this is a famous shop by the name of Ěrqiāng Qīnglǐ de Jiā (耳腔清理的家, loosely: “Ear Canal Cleaning Home”) where you can have your ears cleaned by a “professional ear cleaning master” (zhuānyè tāo’ěr shī 專業掏耳師) for about 500 NT. Apparently Yáo Bīn (姚賓), the octogenarian proprietor, will be happy to show off jars filled with grotesque things he has unearthed over the course of five decades of aural spelunking.