Taiwan, 1943: Hunger and Kindness in the Mountains

This is a Yu family story.

For the past two weeks I have been in Taiwan. 

Did you know that the USA bombed Taiwan in the 1940s? I didn't either...

But it happened, and affected thousands of families including ours. This is a short story of re-connecting with family history, and yes, there will be some food too.

The history...

To refresh our memories: China ceded Taiwan to Japan in 1895 after a naval battle. Taiwanese folks in my Dad's generation were born Japanese colonials whether they liked it or not. 

With the attack on Pearl Harbor, Taiwan was considered an enemy of the United States and starting in 1942, people streamed in a panic out of Taiwan's cities to avoid American bombing. 

Bombs fall on Taipei, 1945. From Cheung, Han. "Taipei Air Raid: A Forgotten Tragedy", Taipei Times, June 7, 2015. 

https://www.taipeitimes.com/News/feat/archives/2015/06/07/2003620104

Photo: Center for GIS, RCHSS, Academia Sinica, Taipei.

On the run

There weren't many places for these thousands of refugees to hide. My grandmother's brother had a small orchard in the remote central mountains and told her to bring the children. 

They left their village of Dadu with little more than the clothes on their backs, and for years lived in the mountains on whatever they could find: bugs, rats, snails, berries...they were plagued by diseases and parasites, but like kids everywhere, found the energy to play. 

Kindness of a stranger

The Yu family survived because Grandmother (Amah, in Taiwanese) was very resourceful and because local villagers at the foot of the mountain were kind to them. My Dad and Uncle Taka, now 86 and 84, remember one man with great fondness: Wang Man. 

White Orchid Temple, in the tiny hamlet of Keli (pronounced Kuh Lee), Tainan County, was the staging area for refugees trekking up 'Kantoushan' or 'Cover Your Head Mountain'.

Mr. Wang was a fruit wholesaler, for the orchards on the mountain. He gave fruit to the starving children whenever they were in Keli. 

Finding some roots.

80 years later, just 2 weeks ago, Dad, my Uncle Taka, and I drove around trying to find this tiny village and the mountains where the kids spent their formative years. 

It's not easy to find, it's not on any maps. But a nice lady on a scooter showed us the way. We were in luck: Wang Man's family still live there, and know the stories of the refugees!

Mr. Wang's daughter and sons greeted us with a huge smile. They take care of the little temple now.

Uncle Taka and Dad, reminiscing about tough times and kind hearts in the 1940s.

The Wangs offered to show us where the old mountain trail is nowadays, so we followed them by car up a steep, twisting road to a lovely mountainside temple.

The trail, now popular with recreational hikers, now has stairs and signs. But its beauty and steepness are unchanged. 

The once-strong legs of Dad and Taka can no longer handle hiking, but I went up the trail that they used as children. You can see how deeply entrenched it is from decades if not centuries of use. 

Karmic lunch

The mountainside temple of Xiangong kindly feeds strangers for whatever we could donate. It's an awesome Buddhist tradition! We had lunch together, swapping more memories. I only wish I spoke Taiwan hua, the countryside language...

Taiwan remains a hotbed of Buddhism, never having experienced Communist bans. The vegetarian cuisine, such as this squash soup, sauteed greens, bamboo shoots, mushrooms, and various tofu and nut dishes, is packed with flavor and textures.

As we took a group picture with the Wangs, my uncle said: "I remember this mountain was so much taller!"

Two families, one mountain, one history. 

All grown up, around 1956. My Auntie Gwan, seated left. Dad, center, Taka, right. I do not know the others.  Note the lady doing her washing in the river in the background!

A flower grows on the mountain. To me, it symbolizes the resiliency of Taiwan and her people.