Provincial Highway 14 leads from Tsaotun to such well-known tourist spots as Kuohsing, Puli and Wushe. Even on non-holidays, it used to carry a constant stream of tour buses in both directions. But since 21 September this traffic has disappeared, and on the way towards Kuohsing, Mt. Chiuchiu no longer greets visitors in a coat of green. The slopes which formerly remained lush and verdant whatever the season now stand stark and bald, shorn by landslides triggered by the earthquake.

If the green mountains are so scarred, how much worse have the people here fared. At nearby Chiufen Mountain #2, located so near the epicenter, mudslides of tens of thousands of tons of earth and rock buried villagers alive. The scenes of survivors crying out in despair as they dug in search of their loved ones were heartrending.

Divine protection

Yet at the Skyline Resortopia holiday resort, by the highway at the foot of a mountain at Peishan in Kuohsing Rural Township, everything seems as beautiful and peaceful as in Shangri-La-there is almost no sign of any damage from the earthquake. "We have the Earth God and the Bodhisattva Guanyin to protect us here!" General manager Chen Hsing-tien, who manages both the resort and the two Skyline Inn hotels at Sun Moon Lake and Lushan, says that this is because the Earth God and Bodhisattva at the shrines inside the resort always answer his prayers.

In gratitude, he has opened his doors wide. He has made the car park available free of charge to the township authorities to place emergency housing-made from converted cargo containers-for 40 families of survivors from the landslide. He has also offered the resort's 45 rooms, complete with three meals a day, free of charge to incoming rescue workers and volunteers. In the fortnight following the disaster, the resort provided almost 3,000 bednights.

In fact, in the stricken areas, local residents who put aside their own difficulties to first go to the help of their neighbors could be seen everywhere. "Fifteen years of work was wiped out in 15 seconds," laments Wang Tsu-hua. He and his wife Chen Fang-tsu, who together ran the Chichiao Mountain and Wild Food Restaurant in Puli Township, and also produced ceramic art, saw their restaurant, home and studio almost completely destroyed in the earthquake. Yet the next day they were out and about, joining in the rescue work. "We'd rather be volunteers than refugees," they exclaim.

Saving history from the bulldozers

As well as being motivated by their own sense of charity, these local rescue workers also bear witness to the continual efforts in recent years to strengthen community consciousness and develop community workers. Puli has been exemplary in this, and its team of community workers have a particularly strong sense of common purpose.

Wang Tsu-hua's wife is from Puli, which is why he moved there in 1985 and opened a restaurant. Because he had a great liking for the place's artistic and cultural style and for its people, and also makes ceramic art, he later got actively involved in the local artistic and cultural scene. He even helped set up a "New Puli Development Committee" to promote entrepreneurial culture there. "I've long ago forgotten I'm not a Puli native," he says. After the earthquake, many friends from outside the area urged Wang to leave Puli and set up elsewhere. But, he says: "I've watched Puli's artistic, cultural and economic life flourish over the past few years, and seen all our ideas and hopes of back then take shape. Looking at the devastation now, I just couldn't bear to turn my back and leave."

Liao Chia-chan, editor of the magazine New Homeland, has been doing community cultural work in Puli for many years. His house, which was also home to the magazine, was made unsafe by the earthquake and has had to be demolished. But he too was determined not to abandon Puli. Soon after the quake, he and magazine staff put up a tent in the park where they had taken refuge, and set up a community work station. On the one hand they helped carry supplies to where they were needed and searched for lost neighbors, while on the other they also worked to make a record of the disaster in words and photographs.

Liao, originally from Hsinkang in Chiayi County, came to Puli in 1991 with his wife Yan Hsin-chu to research the culture and history of the plains aborigines. Since the quake, he has been rushing about everywhere delivering supplies to outlying areas, as well as observing and recording the aftermath of the disaster. But at the same time he has been trying to settle his family members and save from his damaged house something of the archive of community cultural and historical material he had amassed over the years, along with a few surviving pieces of furniture, before the time limit set by the government for demolishing unsafe buildings. Exhausted by these efforts, Liao has neither the time nor the energy to speak. His voice is hoarse, and his face has been blackened by the fierce sun. When visitors arrive all he can do is wave his hand in greeting.

An example to follow

"Chia-chan is very perceptive. Before the earthquake, he published an article in New Homeland called 'A Sinking Lotus' [the basin around Puli is shaped like a lotus flower], in which he said that despite its beautiful scenery Puli had many problems, including a rising crime rate and youth drug abuse. People were too materialistic in their outlook, and there was a lack of cultural depth. It was time for self-examination and reflection." So says Associate Professor Chiang Ta-shu of National Chi-Nan University's department of public administration, who is one of those manning the community work station. He continues: "Actually he was talking about things on the spiritual plane, but who'd have thought that so soon afterwards Puli would be left in such an appalling state by an earthquake, as if it really was sunk. So we all joked that he has 'second sight.'"

"In fact he had been extremely despondent, and that's why he was eager to turn from mere thinking and observation to action, by doing some concrete community work. Hence after the earthquake, when we discovered how bad things were, we all got together and discussed the situation, and decided we would not only help each other rebuild our homes, but would also look after other people who needed help," says Chiang. For instance, many people in the town were getting more supplies than they needed, but some remoter places weren't even getting the basic necessities. So the group decided to ferry supplies to the more outlying areas.

It was only in August 1998 that Chiang had left Taipei's Tamkang University to come and work at Chi-Nan University, because he liked Puli's beautiful natural scenery and rich cultural atmosphere, and felt the place was special in many ways. He never imagined that after little more than a year here, he would face such a major catastrophe. But although his own rented flat in the town was completely destroyed, amid the chaos he immediately got involved in work to help the community. Later, when Chi-Nan University decided to resume teaching in Taipei in classrooms made available by National Taiwan University, he negotiated a reduction in his teaching hours so that he could join in the task of helping Puli rebuild.

Puli is relatively well endowed with charitable organizations, cultural and community workers and academics, and with their help the Puli community work station was the first non-governmental organization in the disaster areas to draw up a specific plan of action for local reconstruction. When Academia Sinica president Lee Yuan-tseh toured the stricken areas in his capacity as convenor of the Civilian Alliance for Coordination and Monitoring of Post-Disaster Reconstruction, he said that Puli could serve as a practical example for other areas to follow.

A challenge for community workers

"We decided to keep the community work station open in Puli long-term to do liaison, coordination and planning work, so as to direct incoming resources to wherever they can really be used to best effect," says Liao Chia-chan, who believes that before the government drafts plans for reconstruction, non-governmental organizations and academia should quickly perform tasks such as surveying needs and available resources, to provide the government with a basis on which to carry out the planning work. This requires a long-term, thoroughgoing effort by community workers on the ground.

As for the work of documenting the disaster by photographing collapsed buildings and rescue workers in action, interviewing victims and so on, Liao says: "This kind of event only happens once in a hundred years, so even if it means letting the work of sorting out and rebuilding our home wait a few days, I want to get out there and record it." He says that since the whole of Taiwan is prone to earthquakes, similar disasters can happen again anywhere. Hence it is necessary to understand how to respond, how to reduce casualties to a minimum, and, during reconstruction, how to co-ordinate all the different relevant areas of expertise. The first-hand record of this disaster will be useful in the future for establishing approaches to disaster prevention and disaster response.

Chiang Ta-shu notes that a disaster on this scale creates more needs than can be met in the short term. At present, as far as supplying the basic physical needs of the population in the stricken areas is concerned, things are already functioning fairly smoothly. "But after that there are even more problems, such as the victims' psychological rehabilitation, along with education and culture, and promoting any of these requires intensive, long-term work." For example, he says, an expert on the Kobe earthquake who gave a talk in Puli said that Japan's experience was that in the first two years they could only restore basic housing in the stricken areas, while it took five years to completely restore public facilities, and at least five years for all housing to be rebuilt. "For all industrial and economic activity to be revived was going to take ten years or more, so evidently the process of recovery is a very long one."

"This is a challenge for me too!" Chiang Ta-shu says that for many community workers this is an opportunity to rethink their conceptions of community, mutual support, coexistence with nature, and environmental protection. These all have to be learned and practiced in the most basic education, culture and social interaction, and not just remain at the level of mere ideas. "Thus we will get involved quite seriously in the work of reconstruction over the next few years, to make sure it is not just a material or economic reconstruction but also an ideological one. I believe that only then can the experience contribute positively to society throughout the country," says Chiang.

A place to dream

As for the other communities affected by the earthquake, though they are not as fortunate as Puli in having so many existing community workers, they too have seen a variety of positive factors emerge for their remaking.

In Chichi Township, at the quake's epicenter, damage was so severe that 80% of the housing stock is unusable. Thus the town will inevitably have to be entirely rebuilt.

"The Ministry of the Interior's plans to boost domestic demand had already included a scheme to spruce up Chichi and the surrounding countryside," says Chichi's mayor, Lin Ming-jen. He explains that Chichi is located between Mt. Chichi and the Choshui River; during the Japanese occupation it prospered thanks to its rich forests, wildlife and agricultural resources, and a branch railway line was specially built to transport the area's products. It was also a well-known tourist spot, and in former days was no less popular than Sun Moon Lake.

In recent times, due to the limited productive value of its mainly agricultural economy, the township had become rather run-down and had been losing population to other areas. Nonetheless, it still had many distinctive historic features such as Chichi Railway Station and Minghsin Academy, along with traditional rural scenes such as tobacco fields, banana groves, fruit orchards and tree-lined roads. These assets had long ago given Lin the idea of using them as tourist resources to breathe new life into Chichi. "A lot of these scenic attractions were damaged in the earthquake, but most of than can be restored." Lin believes this will be the orientation of Chichi's reconstruction program following the earthquake.

"I believe the rebuilding of Chichi Township could set an example for urban and rural townships throughout Taiwan," says Chen Chi-peng, director of Chung Yuan Christian University's department of interior design. Chen led a team of staff and students to Chichi in response to the National Science Council's request to architecture, design and other departments at 20 universities islandwide to conduct pre-reconstruction surveys of the earthquake-damaged townships in central Taiwan. He is also optimistic about future community work in Chichi: "Chichi is a place where you can have dreams."

Chen does not live in Chichi, but he has long had a special liking for the place, and two years ago he was commissioned by the Council for Cultural Affairs to prepare a planning study for Chichi Railway Station and other historic buildings. In the process, as well as recording local cultural, historical, natural and other resources, he also organized numerous activities involving interaction with local residents. "People in Chichi tend to be rather reserved, but once we got to know each other better, they got more enthusiastic, and opened up." He says that because of this, he and his colleagues and students long ago built up a deep bond of affection with local people. "As soon as we arrived in Chichi this time, a shopkeeper offered us space free of charge to set up an office, and a bicycle shop owner lent out his bikes free for the students to use."

Memories should be preserved

The first phase of Chen Chi-peng's work is to catalog local social and economic resources, and, by means of a questionnaire-based survey, to understand local needs, in order to provide data on which to base reconstruction plans.

"Fortunately, we had previously already made a record of Chichi Township's more distinctive historical sites and buildings. For instance, we had made very detailed architectural drawings of the Railway Station, as well as maps of the town." He believes these can all serve as data for remaking Chichi.

Another town where community workers have a strong desire to preserve memories is Tungshih. Over 70% of Tungshih's population is of Hakka ancestry, and both civic organizations and ordinary people have preserved large numbers of Hakka artifacts and much historical material. After the earthquake, the Taichung County Hakka Cultural Association realized that these valuable cultural and historical assets might be destroyed by the bulldozers as damaged houses were demolished. They urged the Tungshih Township authorities to slow down the demolition work, to give them a few days' time to save what they could. One old local gentleman, Liu Chia-shih, organized clan members to rescue over 20 Hakka ancestral tablets from the Liu Chi-kai ancestral temple. These tablets, almost 200 years old, bear witness to the history of how the Hakka ancestors first came and settled in Taiwan.

Tungshih Township's new town plan was the first official reconstruction blueprint to appear after the earthquake. But the plan, which was prepared by the Council for Economic Planning and Development and included provision for a broadband computer network infrastructure, aroused much doubt among members of the community.

"In terms of reconstruction, building a new town is very easy. Prefabricated homes can be put up very quickly, and the Taiwanese are just as good as anyone else at building houses," says cultural historian Chen Pan. He agrees that the main effort should go into building a new town, but he also wants memories to be kept alive. He queries: "Will new buildings and new public spaces be able to evoke the memories of two to three hundred years of history? In the beginning, people may well be pleased to have a brand new town and home, but after a while the disappearance of collective memories may leave them with a sense of loss."

Chen Pan has even joined with various heavyweight cultural figures, including dissident writer Po Yang, poet Li Min-yung and legislator Fan Hsun-lu, who specializes in cultural and educational issues, to set up the "21 September Collective Memories Group," which calls on society not to forget the 21 September earthquake: "A society without memories will never grow spiritually, or know how to show compassion!"

"As far as the reconstruction of a whole locality goes, you can't demand immediate results as you can when putting up prefabs. There is much we can learn from the rescue effort in Kobe. But if you look at subsequent developments there, particularly how they've handled the job of rescuing historic monuments, many experts believe they haven't set much of an example. They haven't done enough to restore monuments and preserve the city's memories." Chen says that the planning process takes a long time, so we should be prepared to wait a little; only then will the actual construction work go ahead more smoothly. He fears that under pressure, the government will rush the planning process. "It would also be best if the reconstruction work is not directed by the government alone. This time they should let ordinary people participate and show what they can do. The academic world can also serve as a liaison channel."

Determined not to be left out

"It is in the nature of things that the different aspirations of government, academia and community residents are hard to reconcile. But with close attention and high expectations from all sectors of society, opportunities for communication and integration really have emerged," says Professor Chen Chi-nan. During his period as vice-chairman of the Council for Cultural Affairs, Chen vigorously promoted integrated neighborhood development, and now as dean of the College of Humanities and Social Sciences at National Chiao Tung University he has set up a community reconstruction volunteer corps and encouraged many architects, local historians and community workers to go to the disaster areas to help in the task of rebuilding.

"Locally-based people and outsiders alike have to be able to listen to residents' wishes, and need to understand their lifestyle, their history and their traditions. This is essential if they are to create neighborhoods with vitality," says Chen. The ultimate goal is to enable local residents to act on their own initiative and take charge of their own affairs; only then are communities sustainable.

In fact, in an age when the desire for self-determination is becoming ever stronger among all Taiwan's ethnic and social groups, it would be difficult to persuade them not to voice their opinions. The Shao are an aboriginal tribe with only 280-odd members. Banu Gabamumu, president of their cultural development association, spent many days inspecting the damage in the Shao ancestral lands around Sun Moon Lake. On seeing how the earthquake had almost split Kuanghua Island into pieces, he said: "This place, which we call Lalu, used to be the home of our highest ancestral spirit. But later it was occupied by the Han Chinese spirit the Old Man Under the Moon. Perhaps now our ancestor has grown angry, and wants to take back the land He lost."

Because of the severity of the devastation and the huge expense of reconstruction, Sun Moon Lake, formerly a scenic area administered by the county government, has now been redesignated a national scenic area under the central-level ROC Tourist Bureau, which will be responsible for its rehabilitation. This "promotion" is at least one good thing to come out of the disaster. "In the past the area was run by a management office under the county government. Their planning never took any account of the history or cultural traditions of the indigenous Shao people, and in the past the Shao had no right to voice their opinions. Now that there is this opportunity for reconstruction, we will no longer tolerate being left out." Banu Gabamumu has recently also been actively taking part in related public hearings and forums, to monitor plans put forward by the government and academics.

The lotus will bloom again

"My friends, it has now been more than a month since the earthquake. I hope you can find the courage to stand up again. We have to gradually put the pain and sorrow behind us. We have to turn the page, and look towards a new future." Despite the stream of outside help, since the disaster Mayor Chang Ching-hu of Tungshih Township has been constantly telling local people that to rebuild their homes and lives they will have to rely on their own efforts. "The government isn't all-powerful. They can only help us 70 or 80%. The rest is up to us."

Today, a little more than a month after the 21 September earthquake, we have once again seen the full moon hanging round and bright in the sky, more beautiful still than the Harvest Moon of the Mid-Autumn Festival a few days after the disaster. Just as the Moon is not always round and bright, human life in this imperfect world brings sorrow as well as joy. But since time immemorial people have hoped for survival, and for the safety of their loved ones however far away. Only by facing reality and stretching out our own hands to rebuild can we hope to create a life as fulfilled as the Moon is round.

p.41

(facing page) The 21 September Chichi earthquake caused horrific casualties. But while grieving for the dead, a still more important task facing people in the stricken areas is overcoming the present difficulties and rebuilding their homes and lives.

p.42

Thanks to the concerted efforts of many cultural workers and entrepreneurs over the last decade and more, Puli Township enjoyed a bustling tourist industry. But the earthquake reduced its facilities to rubble in seconds. For instance, the warehouse where Shaoxing wine-the best-known product of the Puli Distillery-was stored, was badly damaged. It may be a year or two before people in Taiwan can taste this brew again. (photo by Diago Chiu)

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Banu Gabamumu, president of the indigenous Shao people's Shao Cultural Development Association, stands on Kuanghua Island in Sun Moon Lake, the home of the tribe's highest ancestral spirit. He thanks the spirit for showing his anger and reclaiming lost territory, and declares that the Shao will no longer tolerate being excluded from decisions which affect their ancestral lands.

p.45

Chichi Railway Station, built under Japanese rule, is a well-known local historical landmark. Although it was left leaning by the earthquake, as a wooden structure it should be possible to restore and preserve it as a focus of memories for local people and people throughout Taiwan.

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School buildings lie in ruins, but education must go on. One after another, schools in the stricken areas are all resuming classes. Shown here are pupils having their first lesson at Tungshih Elementary School-appropriately, a class on earthquakes.

Thanks to the concerted efforts of many cultural workers and entrepreneurs over the last decade and more, Puli Township enjoyed a bustling tourist industry. But the earthquake reduced its facilities to rubble in seconds. For instance, the warehouse where Shaoxing wine--the best-known product of the Puli Distillery--was stored, was badly damaged. It may be a year or two before people in Taiwan can taste this brew again. （photo by Diago Chiu）

Banu Gabamumu, president of the indigenous Shao people's Shao Cultural Development Association, stands on Kuanghua Island in Sun Moon Lake, the He thanks the spirit for showing his anger and reclaiming lost territory, and declares that the Shao will no longer tolerate being excluded from decisions which affect their ancestral lands.

Chichi Railway Station, built under Japanese rule, is a well-known local historical landmark. Although it was left leaning by the earthquake, as a wooden structure it should be possible to restore and preserve it as a focus of memories for local people and people throughout Taiwan.

School buildings lie in ruins, but education must go on. One after another, schools in the stricken areas are all resuming classes. Shown here are pupils having their first lesson at Tungshih Elementary School-- appropriately, a class on earthquakes.