A Soft Revolution at the Botanical Gardens Building

Many things in life happen by chance. Chiu Yin and her husband moved to a new home across the street from the Taipei Botanical Gardens as a result of a traffic accident that occured while her son was on his way to school.

Last year, just after the beginning of the fall semester, her son got up early to go to his senior high school in Taipei. Having just spent a year as an exchange student in Germany, the boy was accustomed to the law-abiding driving habits of that country, and began crossing the street as soon as he got the "walk" sign. He was hit by a motorcycle running the red light. Not only was he injured and badly frightened, he even got insulted by the motorcycle rider: "Open your eyes when you cross the road!" Chiu's son was very discomfited by this experience, thinking: "Why abuse me? You're the one breaking the law!"

This incident pushed Chiu and her husband, Chiang Shan, into a decision they had been contemplating for some time: relocating to a place nearer to their son's school. When they came upon a small house in a middle-aged building right across from the Botanical Gardens, they needed only 20 minutes to decide to take it.

Chiu, who grew up in Yunlin County, had never lived in a highrise before, and she was excited about experiencing that riding-together-every-day-in-the-elevator lifestyle. She thought people would be even closer than described by that country proverb, "so close you can hear the chickens and dogs." But in fact residents did not know each other very well, so there was little mutual help or socializing. Chiu and Chiang, warm and outgoing by nature, thought that life would be even better if these 70-plus households could become friends and work together.

By coincidence, that was right at Christmas time, so Chiu and Chiang decided to invite everyone in the building to bring one dish or dessert to a Christmas party at their home. The invite, borrowing from a Christmas card sent to them by a friend, read: "Amidst the sea of people, we have chosen the Botanical Gardens Building as our new home. We hope that we will not simply be strangers passing in the hallways, but can share aspirations in common."

After posting their notice on the bulletin board, and preparing all kinds of snacks and hors d'oeuvres, they began to have second thoughts. Were they being, too, you know. . .? Did they tell people too late? Worst of all, if no one came, they would be eating fruit and cookies for a week!

Things went even better than they hoped. Not only did more than a dozen guests from several different families stop in, many other people made a special point of knocking on the door to say that, though they already had commitments on this occasion, they would be happy to come next time. The building superintendant brought a case of soft drinks, and everyone chatted happily from 7:00 until midnight.

After this success, Wong Chien-chung, chairman of the building administration committee, held a cocktail party to celebrate the new year. More than 70 people came, filling the basement with laughter and conversation. Wong also "appointed" Chiu Yin to be "minister of culture" for the apartment building.

The minister of culture got moving right away. Knowing that many talented and interesting people lived in the building, she decided to organize monthly lectures by people from the complex. Using cajolery, inducements, and the weight of her ministerial authority, she soon had the first six months scheduled. The first speaker, a mountain climber who had recently returned from a backpack trip with his son to Latin America, wowed the 60 or 70 people who showed up.

Thereafter came lectures on modern Chinese medicine, table tennis, cardio-pulmonary health, and photography, each delivered by an expert and each well-attended. Residents gradually began to look forward to these opportunities to learn and to socialize. By the time the first six months had gone by, the next six were already booked, with signs on the bulletin board advertising interesting yet practical lectures on marketing, geology, fire prevention, and more.

Asked about these achievements, Chiu denies that she should get the credit, saying: "There are a lot of crouching tigers and hidden dragons in our building!" But even before she has finished saying this, neighbor Liao Ming-tsu, a junior high school teacher and frequent guest at Chiu's home, interjects: "All we were missing was a Chiu Yin to bring them out!"

As everyone laughs at this witticism, suddenly Liao's daughter (who is about to succeed Chiu's daughter in holding a scholarship as an exchange student in Peru) blurts out, "Mom, let's not move this time, OK?" It turns out that Liao's family moves every two or three years on average, and, having lived in the building for more than three years, they were thinking about moving again. But now that they were part of Chiu Yin's "community revolution," they felt a sense of belonging, and couldn't bear to depart.

In fact, lately friends of building residents have been asking if there aren't any apartments for sale there. They want to become part of the Botanical Gardens Building family. Prices in the building, which had been falling in line with the overall market, have stabilized.

Looking to the future, all kinds of activities-art exhibitions, film appreciation, trips-are coming up. But what is important is not the activities per se, but the friendship organically growing out of them. The mutual concern people feel is making the cold city a warmer and more humane place to live.

So why not organize your own community or building with a party to "break the ice," so that this urban legend can ripple across the whole city.

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The house of Chiu Yin (middle right, wearing glasses) is usually filled with visitors, and lots of good ideas are arrived at through collective brain-storming.(photo by Hsueh Chi-kuang)