Revisiting Home

Published 08/14/2024 in Scholar Travel Stipend

Written by Zoe Hsu | 08/14/2024

Education is an essential pillar of the Milken Family Foundation and important for encouraging people to lead “productive and satisfying” lives. Following this mission, I am incredibly grateful and honored to have returned to my motherland, Taiwan, one decade later to embark on a personal endeavor to learn about and revisit Taiwanese culture and identity. The two elements I was most excited about exploring were street markets and temples, as they are two important sites of community building and gathering for Taiwanese people.

Street markets remain a significant element of Taiwanese culture and economy. I initially assumed that most street vendors could only be found at Taiwanese night markets, but I was surprised to see many vendors sell food and goods at small outdoor markets during the day in many villages I visited. From freshly cut watermelons to clothing items, many locals wander through markets to acquire various items. Customers and sellers chat and negotiate prices in a friendly manner as motorcycles drive up and down the street. The atmosphere is still loud, but not as lively as night markets. Most of the vendors, especially those selling food, stayed until 8 or 9 p.m. and became increasingly crowded as the night went on, encouraging locals to meet and eat with one another.

Of course, the most famous type of street market in Taiwan is the night market, or 夜市 (ye shi) in Mandarin Chinese. I visited Raohe Night Market, which happened to be right next to the Songshan Ciyou Temple. As I walked along a narrow path and passed various tents, I was immediately greeted by the smells of buns, fried foods, and stinky tofu, as well as the sounds of vendors shouting about special discounts and goods. Taiwanese night markets create an ambiance known as 熱鬧 (re nao)in Mandarin, which can be translated to “a lively place that’s fizzling with excitement.”^[1] Each of the food/drink items sold is known as 小吃 (xiao chi), which are typically small, low-cost foods in a snackable size. Both locals and tourists browsed and admired vendors while enjoying each other’s company. I witnessed how night markets in Taiwan bring diverse people together and create a happy and lively atmosphere that encourages conversation and laughter — a central part of Taiwanese collectivist culture. I felt comforted that many of the childhood Taiwanese snacks I grew up eating in America were found in the night market, and how much better they tasted in Taiwan. The crowded spaces created a feeling of closeness to strangers, family members, and friends. 

I always knew that the Taiwanese night market brought together foods from different parts of Taiwan. However, I found that the night market appeared to become more multicultural than when my parents shopped at the night market during their childhood. For instance, I saw Thai desserts, Korean corn dogs, and even Shawarma. Perhaps this growth in multiculturalism can be attributed to an increase in international tourism, and the night market is becoming a more prominent cosmopolitan gathering site. I also did not witness as much bartering as I did when I visited a decade ago, as bartering may not be customary in some cultures. From my observations, locals (and my parents) rarely settled for the market price, whereas tourists often paid the listed price for an item.

Many of the vendors have also adapted to technological advancements. For instance, people typically used to buy and sell goods solely with cash at the vendors, but many of the vendors I saw accepted up to 10 different forms of electronic payment, from Line to Apple Pay to Venmo. Despite technological advancements, many entrepreneurs of night markets have seemed to adapt to continue giving the next generation the same night market experience as my parents: the chance to eat happily and enjoy family and friends’ presence in person. Some of the older vendors, run by the elderly, did not offer the same option to pay through electronic means; I found that several customers still crowded around their stalls with cash, but less than vendors with non-cash options of payment.

Aside from street markets, I was very excited about visiting the temples in Taiwan because of their beautiful architecture and significance in developing Taiwan’s strong religious culture. Temples in Taiwan are impossible to ignore. In fact, over 10,000 of them exist across the island, each with their own deities, histories, and architectural styles.^[2] I had the opportunity to visit Longshan Temple, Guandu Temple, Ciyou Temple, and Dharma Drum Mountain, and discuss two of my temple visits below.

Before going to the Raohe Night Market, I visited each floor of the six-story Songshan Ciyou Temple in order to pray and offer incense sticks to each of the gods. The temple was built in 1753 mainly as a dedication to Mazu, the famous sea goddess, but it also honors other deities.^[3] This was my first time visiting a temple that had more than two floors. The physical architecture of the temple was magnificent and the high ceilings left me in awe. The sea of bright, colorful paintings, lanterns, and statues of mythical beasts and deities gave me the impression that this temple highly valued and respected the gods, as all of the work dedicated to building the temple was towards honoring the deities. Due to its location (being next to a popular tourist night market), the temple had more international visitors than I would have imagined in a sacred space. But it appeared that most of them were there with an open mind and curiosity to learn about Taiwanese temples and their histories, serving as a space of education for those who do not identify as Taiwanese.

Each of the gods represented a different aspect of life, such as good fortune and birth. In addition to incense sticks, people offered food, such as fruits and snacks, to the gods in the main room on the first floor. After I finished praying and placing one incense stick in front of each deity, I decided to seek advice from the gods in the main room by communicating with them through red wooden crescent-shaped blocks known as jiaobei in Mandarin Chinese. The blocks are meant to be thrown on the ground after asking a question. If both of the blocks flipped on the same side, the answer was “no,” and if the blocks landed on opposite sides, the answer was “yes.” After introducing myself, asking for permission to seek advice, and presenting my question, I was guided to choose a fortune stick, which directly corresponded with a paper message. The advice I received to reach my goals is to fulfill the duties that life has given me and to rely on my own confidence to overcome future challenges. Funnily enough, the temple was also adapting to technological changes, as it offered a kiosk to translate a printed version of the Chinese sayings in more than 10 different languages. The kiosk felt like an outlier in such a traditional and antique space; yet, it increased access to Buddhist teachings to me and others who could not read Chinese characters.

I learned more about Buddhist teachings after driving over an hour to visit the Dharma Drum Mountain (法鼓山). Founded by a veteran-turned-monk, the area serves as a center for Buddhist learning as well as a place for worship. As I entered the buildings, I saw Buddhist lessons along the walls, in the form of calligraphy, that explained teachings such as how to let go of regrets and negative feelings, how to practice humility and respect, and how to live life without greed. The area also contained statues of different deities, in which I kneeled and prayed in front to show my respect. Similar to what had happened at Songshan temple, people could also seek advice from the gods; however, instead of using the crescent-shaped wooden blocks, I was asked to read a series of Chinese characters in a humming manner before asking my question and picking a fortune drawer. Unlike the temples in the urban areas, the buildings at Dharma Drum Mountain were much more simplistic and modern. Songshan Ciyou Temple, for instance, was decorated with complex and colorful statues and carvings of gods and mythical creatures. However, the Dharma Drum Mountain’s areas of worship only contained one large statue of a deity in the middle of the room with seats available for kneeling during prayer. The simplicity of the buildings reminded me of Buddhism’s lessons on living a humble life, without asking for more than what we need.

In addition, the serenity of the temple and surrounding mountains and forests reflected Buddhist teachings’ emphasis on finding inner peace, joy, and gratitude in our lives. While Buddhism’s teachings are valuable, they are quite challenging to follow and require years of training. However, the temple visits still served as an important reminder to me, and hopefully to the other visitors, to lead a meaningful life with the values of respect, compassion, and humility, even when times are challenging.

Above all, the street markets and temple visits reminded me of the importance of having spaces to cultivate meaningful relationships with others and practice gratitude — two core tenets of Taiwanese identity. Most importantly, my visit to Taiwan has shown me how Taiwan’s growing multiculturalism reflects my dual identities as a Taiwanese American, and that I have the ability to appreciate both identities equally despite their differences. Examples include eating and sharing American dishes rather than eating a dish alone, and showing appreciation for family, particularly those older than me, while also asserting boundaries respectfully and celebrating my personal independence. My Taiwanese identity has shaped my personal values — building community, practicing humility, showing respect for elders — while my American identity and upbringing has taught me to appreciate and exercise the freedom of choice and thought I have in the U.S.