Do the Taiwanese Authorities have a Foreigner PR Problem?

Getting home from work tonight I turned on my computer to find an email from a Taiwanese acquaintance which explained a plan to start charging visitors to enter Taiwan’s national parks. Nothing wrong with that, in principle. However he also explained how he’d heard from a friend that certain local politicians were suggesting that foreign visitors then be charged a higher fee than Taiwanese tourists. I immediately felt a tinge of righteous anger, but there was more than that; the news was slightly disturbing also.  After several hours I finally put my finger on what was wrong, and couldn’t sleep until writing down feelings that I’ve actually had for some time, in black and white.

I realized that this is far from the first time that the Taiwanese authorities have  differentiated between what foreigners and Taiwanese can do when exploring this wonderful island, or how much they should pay while doing it.

Now I must immediately make it clear from the start that I’m not suggesting any loopy conspiracy theories here, or for a minute that there’s some devious plan to discriminate against foreigners…!! It strikes me though that the wrong signals are being sent out sometimes, and that a few changes could be made if Taiwan wants to attract more foreign tourists, and to keep them happy. Even when intentions are good, how they’re perceived by others is important, and I’m finding it hard to perceive the logic of some of the more idiosyncratic rules and restrictions I’ve encountered on my travels around the island over the last few years. It’s quite possible that there’s a good and fair reason behind all of them, but the bitter taste remains, and I’m curious whether I’m being over-sensitive or whether other foreign residents feel that something doesn’t sit quite right.

Here are a few curious facts I’m aware of that affect foreign passport holders here (residents and/or visitors) trying to explore the island:

- A proposal announced last year suggested that a fee will be charged for staying in the new Paiyun Lodge (when it opens) on Yushan (Jade Mountain; the highest mountain in northeast Asia). Unfortunately foreign tourists, it was proposed, would be charged NT$700, while locals (and foreign residents) would be charged only NT$220. The proposed dual fee policy has yet to be implemented.

- Foreign hikers wishing to climb any of the high mountains in Taroko National Park (including popular summits such as Mounts Nanhuda and Chilai) can only climb if a local resident acts as ‘leader.’ Exactly who the leader is however doesn’t seem to matter - hikers I know have used their wives and girlfriends (neither of whom went on the trip) – they just have to have Taiwanese ID.

- Qingtian Hall, a huge underground chamber carved out of the granite of Mount Taiwu on Kinmen  is now open to Taiwanese visitors, yet foreign visitors and residents alike are not allowed to enter.

- Similarly the army stronghold (which commands a marvellous view) on top of Mount Yuntai on Nangan in the Matsu Islands is now open to the public - but only to holders of Taiwan ID. Foreign residents and visitors are forbidden from entering. Perhaps they’re afraid of foreign spies….

- …and now, according to my acquaintance it appears certain local politicians want to charge foreigners more for entering Taiwan’s national parks when and if proposed entrance fees are levied on visitors.

While I’m sure the authorities are sometimes merely erring on the side of caution, after discovering these limitations which affect me simply because I’m a foreigner, I’m thinking the Taiwanese authorities would do well to re-consider the way they treat us aliens if they want us to feel as truly welcome as the average Taiwanese person on the street here invariably does.

Typhoon Morakot: (nearly) four years on

On the typhoon-damaged road to Ali village

Just over three-and-a-half years ago Typhoon Morakot swept through southern Taiwan, causing catastrophic damage and killing over 600 people. Today a memorial park stands on the site of Xiaolin (小林) village, which was completely buried by a landslide that day, while the devastation also remains obvious in many other places in southern Taiwan.

A particularly dramatic example of the terrific destruction wrought by the astonishing 2.7 meters of rain that fell on that single day can be seen in Pingtung County, at the abandoned Rukai aboriginal villages of Ali (阿禮) and Jilu (吉露).  These two neighbouring settlements were evacuated following massive damage due to subsidence caused by the typhoon floods. Luckily no-one there was killed, I was told.  The two settlements lie in a magnificent setting, clinging to the steep sides of a huge valley high above Pingtung city, and hikers heading to the remote but once popular Little Ghost Lake (小鬼湖) would have once gone right through both on the long drive up to the trailhead. The once motorable track beyond Ali (nearly 40 kilometers long) to that apparently very beautiful place was destroyed during Morakot, and the lake is now effectively inaccessible.

The village church at Ali

Ali and Jilu on the other hand can still be easily reached, and for northern Taipei dwellers, who escaped Morakot’s wrath, a visit is to this scenically magnificent area puts into dramatic focus just how terrible the destruction visited on the area by the typhoon really was.

Leaving Pingtung city (there’s a very useful shop renting scooters right opposite the train station – they’ll rent to foreigners but only those with a local scooter licence), it’s a quick sprint across the lowlands to Sandimen (三地門), where the central mountains abruptly start rising out of the flat plains. Sandimen is the gateway to Rukai aboriginal country, and is one of northern Pingtung County’s most popular tourist destinations – but it’s a Tourist destination with a  capital T, and its aboriginal dance shows and big, loud restaurants are uncomfortably reminiscent Wulai – far from authentic and rather tacky.

Jilu village

Luckily beyond Sandimen town the road soon gets deep into the mountains on its way up to the vaguely legendary settlement of Wutai (霧台). Regular viewers of Taiwan’s TV news will know this place well, since it’s often cut off for days after summer typhoons. Just last year, it made the local headlines when the road was wiped out (again) and supplies had to be helicoptered in for stranded villagers.

Part of the Headman’s house at Ali

For such a disaster-prone place, the road to Wutai is surprisingly easy, wide and gentle. Much of it is still unsurfaced, as rebuilding work continues following Morakot, but in many places it’s wide and spacious, and the gradient is pretty gentle as it climbs past the police checkpoint (just show some ID and write your particulars and you can continue), descends to cross the canyon of the Yiliaobei Stream by a temporary bridge (a huge new bridge – locals say it’ll be Taiwan’s highest when finished – is being constructed here). Finally it climbs again, narrows to a one-track lane for a short spot where repairs are continuing (this stretch of road is open for only 10 minutes each hour at the moment as the road is repaired, which means quite a long delay if you arrive at the wrong time!) and at about 900 meters above sea level enters the village of Wutai, about 45 minutes after leaving Sandimen.

Wutai church

The view into the canyon of the Aliaonan Stream below Wutai

Wutai is a great place to stay – magnificent views, a good small Rukai Culture Hall and some nice homestays, but the best scenery lies after the village, when the road narrows, climbs further and passes a couple of seriously dodgy looking cliffs and big landslides.

Old Rukai house in Ali village

The village of Jilu is first, down a short and rather steep approach road on the left. It’s completely abandoned and stands eerily silent, big cracks  (caused by subsidence) have opened in the village lanes while the  lower edge of the village has slid partly down the mountainside.

The abandoned half of Ali village

It’s another couple of kilometers – passing the most spectacular and unnerving bit of road on the route – to Ali, the settlement at the very end of the road. At the entrance to the village the road splits. The overgrown track ahead beside a huge engraved stone is the old forest road to Little Ghost Lake, while the right fork winds up the hill a little to the village, divided in two by the village church and cemetery. This first half of the village is completely abandoned. Massive subsidence has left big cracks in the houses, which were very obviously left in a great hurry. Notices warn visitors not to loot any of the belongings left inside the houses, and all in all it’s an utterly eerie place. Following a lane up behind the church, approaching the back half of the village, I hear distant voices. This half of the village was less damaged in the typhoon, and, incredibly a few families apparently still live here. On my visit the only people around were actually workers toiling on the village Headman’s house, a photogenic, traditional Rukai slate-walled building with some interesting decorative wood carving.   A few other slate Rukai houses line the streets of this part of the village, and it’s a fascinating, if slightly unnerving place to wander around.

The view from the broken road down to Jilu village

The following day I discover that these aren’t the only villages that have been abandoned in this area. Staying the night at a homestay in a new settlement built on the edge of Sandimen specially to house the aboriginal community displaced from Haocha (好茶) village, I’m quickly made to feel like one of the family, and have some amazing discussions with these wonderful people. Several villages in the hills nearby such as Haocha have now been permanently evacuated, and their inhabitants now live in this or  similar new developments. I’ve never seen anything like it this place in Taiwan before: the housing estate consists of neat lines of attractive detached  houses complete with small gardens and reminds me strongly of England. Happily, although the new lowland setting can be no match, scenically, for their former homes, my hosts and their friends all seem very comfortable in their new homes.

Visiting them was certainly the highlight of an extremely vivid weekend exploring Morakot-ravished Pingtung, and I’m eager to go back, with a guide, to make the 2-day return trek up to their ancestral home, the slate-house village (and Grade Two Historic  Monument) of Old Haocha (舊好茶).

A house on the brink of the abyss at Jilu village

Poseidon’s Palace and Diana’s Pool (海神宮,黛娥娜神池)

Poseidon’s Palace (during a drought)

The river just downstream from the gorge and Posidon’s Palace

A three-day trip south this weekend probably wasn’t the best idea, considering I should be resting my hand after straining it while practicing for my piano recital, but with vast amounts of nervous energy built up during the long  build-up to the event, plus the frustration and disappointment at having to postpone the recital four days before the big day meant staying in Taipei wasn’t an option this last couple of days….

Ethiopia’s Erta Ale Volcano and the Danakil Depression

The incredible Erta Ale lava lake

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Erta Ale is something else entirely. I seriously doubt there’s a more primeval, raw permanent example of the Earth’s volcanic forces than this utterly awe-inspiring place, anywhere in the world. Erta Ale is one of only a couple of permanent lava lakes in the world, and probably the only accessible one at present (the other, at Virunga National Park in eastern Congo (formerly Zaire) is affected by civil war and out-of-bounds to tourists at present, while tourists can’t walk up to the edge of the two on Kilauea volcano in Hawaii for a look inside. although of course the point where the lava flows into the ocean is a famous tourist draw).

The fact that Erta Ale lies in an extremely remote and inhospitable place (statistically the hottest place on earth) makes visiting it an even more unforgettable experience. There are no handrails, no marked footpaths to be kept to, and no park rangers blowing whistles if anyone gets too close to the edge. You’re free to stand right on the lip of the crater and goggle at the ovoid lake of molten lava just 20 meters below, its congealing surface constantly cracking as the liquid rock beneath forces its way through, while sprays of molten rock burst out of a cave on the far side of the crater like a geyser.

The crater and lake at dawn

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Ethiopia’s extraordinary Rock-hewn Churches: Abuma Yemata Geh and the Tigray Churches

Outside Abuma Yemata Geh rock-hewn Church

Climbing up to the church

Abuma Yehmata Geh church is cut into the pillar on the right

The final approach to the church

It’s less than an hour from the end of the 4-wheel-drive track to the fabulous rock-hewn church of Abuma Yemata Geh in Ethiopia, but what an hour! This incredibly perched place, carved into the side of a huge, vertical pillar of rock, would be a wonder in any country (although tourists would never be allowed to make the dodgy climb up there in many), but in Ethiopia, where the jaw-dropping physical location is complemented by a fairly remote and utterly spectacular setting, fascinating people, and a way of life (and worship) that feels as though it belongs to a time in the far distant past, the trip to Abuma Yemata Geh is probably one of the most extraordinary, fascinating, and occasionally terrifying couple of hours I’ve spent in my life!

Ethiopia’s Simian Mountains: an easy trek in mindbogglingly spectacular scenery

Gelada baboon at Chennek

Final descent to Chennek, day 3

Walia ibex at Chennek

The summit of Inatye (4,070 meters), the highest point of our four-day hike

Kilimanjaro, Mount Kenya, the Otter Trail, Toubkal: Africa has some incredible hiking; sad to say I’ve done none of them yet (although I did make it half way up Toubkal many years ago).     Add to that list the Simian Mountains in Ethiopia. Ethiopia doesn’t immediately spring to mind as prime hiking country, yet although well-known these days for the incredible rock-hewn churches of Lalibela (a popular candidate for the ‘Eighth Wonder of the World’) and as the alleged site of the Arc of the Covenant (said to contain the Ten Commandments: remember it from the end of Raiders of the Lost Arc?), it has two world-class trekking destinations.

Mount Dadao (Big Knife) and the Neidong Forest Road, Wulai

On the Neidong Forest Road

The peaceful Neidong Forest Road

I’m slowly finding out that there’s a lot more to Wulai than the waterfalls, hot springs, and a couple of good but shortish hikes, such as the Big Knife Mountain walk, which is a popular favorite these days. Starting at the main village, the trail (the first bit  was ‘improved by the authorities – curse them! – a few years back and has lost the mildly wild quality it once had) climbs to a domed little peak (the ‘big knife’) perched on the edge of the great river gorge, and then descends through the jungle to the head of Wulai Waterfall, to finish with a cable car ride back down. Sadly this is no longer free, since the park owners have long got wind that the cable car is no longer the only way up here, but if you can take the steep NT$150 fare for a ride lasting a couple of minutes, it still makes a very enjoyable (and unique) end to a half-day hike!

Near the summit of Mount Dadao

On the forest road