We spent three days in Taichung in central Taiwan for a team-building exercise for personnel of the Manila Economic and Cultural Office, which has offices in Manila, Taipei, Taichung and Kaohsiung.
En route to the venue situated in upland Taichung we passed by an old railroad tunnel built by the Japanese in 1900 when for 50 years the island was its colony. Nothing really remarkable about the tunnel, which was constructed of bricks using the hard labor of the Atayal natives.
The old railroad tunnel, just about 460 meters long, no longer in use because it was single-track and outmoded, was converted into a tourist destination with simple son et lumiere effects.
Along the way, there were Atayal descendants selling native delicacies, mostly dried fruit and vegetable produce of their villages, from dried guava to plums to persimmons.
In the hotel where we held the team-building exercise, we were fed “local” food, which meant mushrooms, bamboo shoots, highland veggies with very little meat and seafood. I was told by the tour operator who organized the visit that these were the simple fare of the aborigines.
In a visit to other parts of Taiwan, I noticed that the natives took pride in their cuisine, their customs, their produce, and except for the capitals, there were hardly any fast-food joints, whether local MOS burgers or McDonalds. Some were excellent, like the Jiaoxi chicken roasted in brick and mortar urns using lychee wood as fuel. As I write this piece, we are on our way to a roadside eatery that served mushroom shabu-shabu, with some 10 different varieties of locally grown mushrooms flavoring the broth. Some of the food may have tasted so-so, but nonetheless, the Taiwanese took pride in these and served their local fare to tourists.
So very unlike the Philippines, where provincial cuisine had been “killed” by execrable fast food joints. I used to travel to the countryside to savor good native delicacies, such as maliputo in Taal and Lemery, goto in Lipa, tawilis from Lake Taal in Tanauan, longganisa from Lucban in Candelaria, sinigang na ulang and adobong kanduro in Calumpit. Nowadays, all you see dotting the highways are Jollibee and McDo.
Similarly, their local handicrafts are promoted, from teacups made of fired ceramic to tea kettles and ladles made of beautifully crafted bamboo.
In fine, there is pride of place, heritage and culture.
On the other hand, we copied Hollywood, period.
Que lastima!, the old folks would exclaim.
Taiwan is not as beautiful as the Philippines, far from it. But the Taiwanese take extra effort to make their island postcard-pretty. They reforest their mountains with evergreens and bamboo and there is hardly a bald patch of earth your eyes would rue.
They plant vegetables and fruits everywhere they can and tend to these with loving care. Their macopa is sweet and large; while we have hardly any macopa trees left. Their balimbing is apolitical, large and sweet, not tart, because as the fruit begins to flower, they individually wrap these in plastic or paper, to protect it from rain or dew, and warm the outside temperature for the fruit to grow better and sweeter. In short, tender loving care.
This article is not intended to slur or denigrate our culture; nor is it to pander to my host country. It is an eulogy to our nationalism, an essay on our forgetfulness of roots, our ignorance of heritage, our cavalier attitude towards culture.
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Let me wish our President, Rodrigo Roa Duterte warm felicitations on his 72nd birthday tomorrow.
As is his wont, he intends to celebrate the day simply, with no fanfare, no party, just another day. As he loves to say, “usa ka tuog ra na,” loosely, “lilipas din iyan” as the Tagalogs would put it.
May the President be granted his simple wish: More strength to serve his people and our country.