Water in Taiwan’s Folk Rituals and Culture

As a cultural outsider, Matthieu Branders, director of the Belgian Office in Taipei, has noticed that the Taiwanese approach water with trepidation, installing all manner of float lines at swimming beaches and wearing life preservers for virtually any water activity. 

Yet conversely, fire doesn’t seem to faze the Taiwanese in the least. They frequently burn incense and ghost money and are even happy to launch sky lanterns and set off beehive fireworks with little thought to the potential dangers.

Liking fire, fearing water

Why are Taiwanese scared of water but not fire? There is in fact a cultural explanation. Lin Mei-rong, a research fellow at the Academia Sinica’s Institute of Ethnology, puts it plainly: “The Han Chinese are fire people.” Traditional society was agrarian, emphasizing a deep attachment to the land, and age-old practices like the burning of incense and joss paper are closely tied to ancestor worship. Indeed, many important Taiwanese folk activities, such as the launching of sky lanterns, the burning of the King’s Boat, and the lighting of beehive fireworks, reflect this attachment to fire.

Meanwhile, the Taiwanese people take an approach of “needing but fearing” water. But water is one of the three essential elements for human survival, and a reliable water supply is an absolute necessity in an agrarian society. Back before adequate water control infrastructure, floods occurred frequently. The legend of Yu the Great taming floods both highlights people’s deep fears about water and reflects a proactive attitude about water resource management.

Folklorist Lin Mei-rong believes that although Han Chinese culture often puts the focus on the land, on the island of Taiwan maritime culture is also very important and worthy of study.

In Taiwan’s folk rituals, the element of fire is striking, but water also plays an important role. In the ceremonies around the burning of the King’s Boat in Donggang, Pingtung County, both elements feature prominently. (photo by Jimmy Lin)

Water in folk culture

Traditional folk beliefs in Taiwan have long incorporated ideas about yin and yang and the five agents of traditional Chinese cosmology. “Fire” corresponds to the south and symbolizes strong yang (bright, male) energy, whereas “water” is associated with the north, embodying a softer and more humid yin (dark, female) quality. This duality helps explain why Taiwan’s fire culture tends to be bold and expressive, whereas its water culture is more subdued. Yet major festivals, such as those connected to the Burning of the King’s Boat, embody characteristics of both fire culture and water culture, demonstrating that the two are not mutually exclusive. Rather, they are two sides of the same coin: complementary forces that can coexist and enrich each other through their different perspectives.

Fire culture has long been a major focus in the study of folk traditions in Taiwan, notes Lin Bo-chi, head of the World Mazu Culture Research and Document Center at Fengtian Temple, who has a long and abiding interest in Taiwanese folk culture. Intentionally seeking new perspectives, Lin has in recent years turned his attention to water. Traveling across much of Northern and Southern Taiwan, he has explored water culture from “the first drop” at natural springs all the way down to the sea. Beside streams, rivers, lakes, irrigation canals, and the seashore, he has catalogued over 250 folk practices, rituals, and beliefs related to water.

Beyond worship of the well-known sea goddess Mazu and the deity Wangye, there exist a wide range of lesser-known rituals and ceremonies in folk traditions that occur by the water. Lin compiled these findings in his book Waterside Practices.

Temple pilgrimages featuring centipede processions are unique to Tainan. Resembling centipedes crawling across the land, the processions engage in a symbolic battle with the “green viper”—the frequently flooding and course-changing Zengwen River. The intent is to fight one slithering creature with another. (MOFA file photo)

Temples honoring Guanyin, the Bodhisattva most closely associated with water, often feature ponds or pools in front. (MOFA file photo)

Water secrets

Lin bo-chi says that much of this waterside culture has been covered up, hidden, or even forgotten.

In the Tainan region, there are the “Five Great Temple Pilgrimages of Nanying” (Xiaolong, Xuejia, Tucheng, Madou, and Xigang), which are famous for their unique “centipede” processions. Wooden-plank parade floats are linked together in these long, zigzagging processions. Children dressed as historical or mythological figures sit atop the floats, which are either carried on the faithful’s shoulders or are mounted on wheels and pushed forward on both sides.

The origin of the local tradition that “no pilgrimage is complete without a centipede procession” is closely connected to water. These centipede performance troupes developed in the area between the Zengwen and Jishui rivers. The Zengwen River has always been an abundant water source for the region, but it also used to regularly flood and change course, causing locals to liken it to a “blind snake” slithering wildly in all directions. As a result, the centipede—believed to counter snakes—was chosen for ritual performances, in the hope of subduing the floods.

Lin Mei-rong explains that Guanyin, known by titles such as “Great Bodhisattva of the Southern Sea” and “Merciful Bodhisattva of the Ship of Compassion,” is often depicted holding a purification vase with a willow branch that can sprinkle water to purify all beings. The connection with water is further emphasized through the various manifestations of her, such as the “Water-Moon Guanyin” and the “Flowing-Water Guanyin.” Notably, temples dedicated to Guanyin often feature ponds or water pools in front, reflecting this watery imagery. Across Taiwan, Guanyin is also frequently worshipped near natural springs.

In contrast to natural springs, man-made wells are primarily associated with worship of the Earth God. He is widely believed to be able to guard water all the way from its source to its end use. Traditionally, shrines dedicated to the Earth God were oriented to face in the direction of the water source, protecting local water resources and ensuring that “nourishing waters don’t flow into others’ fields.”

This Taishan shigandang tablet erected in Yunlin’s Xiluo Township is inscribed with five characters that are slightly modified from their standard forms. (courtesy of Lin Bo-chi)

Objects used to suppress or control water come in many forms. In addition to shigandang protective stones and stone tablets, large trees, xiziting (incinerators for disposing of written documents), and pagodas can also be dedicated to the symbolic control of water. (courtesy of Lin Bo-chi)

Among objects invested with symbolic powers of water control, this divine elephant at Gongqinliao in Tainan’s Annan District counts as a rarer example. (courtesy of Lin Bo-chi)

Lin Bo-chi has a deep interest in folk culture. In his travels across Taiwan, he has discovered that the folk customs practiced near bodies of water are particularly vibrant and fascinating. (courtesy of Lin Bo-chi)

Divine objects to control water

Lin Bo-chi believes that among the various representations of water culture, stone tablets and shigandang (protective stones) that one often finds by bodies of water “symbolize the most direct connection between people and the land.”

Taiwan’s early Han Chinese settlers, both scared of water and dependent upon it, urgently sought water sources. Up against an unpredictable natural ­environment, they worked together to carry out water management projects. Guided by an animistic belief that all things possess spirits, they held solemn riverside ceremonies year after year, employing amulets and talismans to ward off evil and invite good fortune.

These items varied in size, scale, and form depending on the locale, but stone tablets and shigandang were the most common.

The Zhuoshui River is the longest river in Taiwan. A shigandang on the river’s southern bank in Yunlin’s Xiluo Township stands 169 centimeters tall and features a carving of a lion biting a sword, with the sword pointing directly toward the river.

A shigandang by the Zengwen River in Annan District, Tainan, takes the form of a stone elephant. Posed as if drawing in water, the elephant is thought to symbolize an ability to control or stop floods. Lin Bo-chi likens it to the Yellow Crane Tower by the Yangtze River, which was intended at least in part as a symbol of control over water and floods.

Respectfully referred to by locals as “Grandfather Banyans,” “Lords of Tree Virtue,” or “Lord Dragon Trees,” the large trees found along rivers in Taiwan have extensive root systems. These trees grow many aerial roots that can anchor into the soil and rocks, helping to resist flooding.

In the countryside, religious pagodas, other stone towers, and even the xizi pagodas (incinerators for respectfully disposing of paper bearing written words) commonly found in Hakka communities actually carry a hidden function of controlling water. Lin Bo-chi points out that these incinerators are especially prevalent in southern Hakka areas like Liudui, Meinong, and Zhutian. There they can be seen in nearly every village where water flows nearby.

Water is essential for human survival, and different ethnic groups and cultures have developed their own unique water-related traditions. One example is the Yuanshan Water Shrine, which dates to the Japanese colonial period. It still stands beside the Yuanshan Reservoir, part of the Caoshan water system in Taipei's Shilin District.

It used to be common for people to lose their lives in accidents at sea, in floods or when crossing rivers. On the eve of the pudu (universal salvation) ceremony, water lanterns are lit to guide the lonely souls in the water to the shore, where they can receive offerings. (MOFA file photo)

Facing the sea

Apart from ethnic Han Chinese, Taiwan’s indigenous peoples, who have been on the island much longer, have many traditional cultural practices connected to water.

Lin Mei-rong gives examples such as the sea lament ceremony of lowland indigenous peoples along Taiwan’s southwest coast. During the ceremony, female spirit mediums chant mournful O-roraw songs in their native language, paying tribute to the spirits of ancestors who perished at sea. In the Tainan area, lowland indigenous communities hold a “water-fetching” ritual at water sources, praying for favorable weather and abundant rain. For the Tao and Amis peoples, young men traditionally underwent training in the ocean, whereas ­Rukai youths in the mountains would train in rivers under the guidance of elders as a rite of passage to manhood. Then there are archaeological findings, such as the shell mounds at Kenting, which serve as direct evidence of prehistoric people living on the coast and relying on the sea for their livelihood.

Over longer spans of time, beliefs can continue to evolve and develop unique characteristics distinct from their place of origin.

Wangye worship in Taiwan evolved from the worship of local guardian deities on the Chinese mainland. From the rituals to send these deities off to Heaven on boats, many drifted onto Taiwan’s coast. As a consequence, Wangye gradually transformed into a maritime deity worshiped by fishing communities.

Worship of Zheng Chenggong (Koxinga) is also unique to Taiwan. In areas along the Zhuoshui River and Dajia River, one can find stone tablets inscribed with honorific titles such as “Sacred King Who Opened Up Taiwan” and “Lord of the Imperial Surname Who Opened Up Taiwan,” erected as water-controlling monuments that rely on Zheng Chenggong’s spiritual power. According to historical records, during his brief time in Taiwan Zheng Chenggong only traveled in the area near Tainan. Yet because of the belief among Taiwanese people that he is the incarnation of a whale capable of dispelling floods, his spiritual influence now extends far beyond his physical presence in history.

The “rediscovery” of water-related practices has brought new perspectives on traditional culture and new evidence of how Taiwanese culture has embraced both land and sea, integrating the two into a unique cultural identity.

In traditional Han Chinese culture, water was often seen as a barrier and even believed to harbor “bad things.” Yet, centuries ago, pioneers who crossed the sea to Taiwan saw in the vast ocean a glimmer of hope—a space filled with endless possibilities.

The land represents tradition, roots, and origins; it should not be forgotten. But the ocean offers a direction for active development and a domain worth exploring and deepening our understanding of. The examination of “water-related practices” may just be the first step. As Lin Mei-rong puts it: “The goal is not to break from tradition, but to create a window onto the cultural vitality underpinning our existing culture, a channel for absorbing the essence of world civilizations, and a pathway for connecting to the global village.”

The Lin Xiansheng Shrine in Ershui, Changhua honors a mysterious Mr. Lin who is said to have helped build the Babao Irrigation Canal.

The O-roraw ritual of the Siraya people is primarily performed by women. Crossing hands in a circle, they chant ancient tunes in their native language, expressing gratitude to the ancestral spirits. (MOFA file photo)

On the island of Taiwan, folk traditions complexly blend fire culture, which represents land-based thinking, and water culture, symbolizing maritime traditions.