The reason why the indigenous peoples have reservations is because their traditional life-style depends almost completely on land. The Mountain Reservation Management Law of 1948 was passed to guarantee that they would have land to live on, to limit the flow of Han Chinese into the mountains, and to buffer the direct competition between them.

At present, the area of the mountain reservations covers 240,000 hectares, about one thirteenth of all Taiwan. One fifth of the land is agricultural, and the rest is forest or pasturage.

According to Kuo Hsiu-yen of the Taiwan Province Department of Civil Affairs, which administers the reservations, every indigenous citizen, no matter what age or sex, can possess up to 0.4 hectares of paddy fields or 0.8 of dry land, together with an additional hectare of forest land. The rights to the forest land must be registered every ten years, while those for the agricultural land can be obtained unconditionally ten years after the initial registration--but the land may not be sold or rented out.

With a windfall like this, are the aborigines jumping for joy? Not really. "'Our' land has gotten smaller," they almost all say.

Except for the Paiwan and Rukai, whose land was owned by the nobility, the other indigenous peoples of Taiwan have traditionally held their land in common, farming, fishing, or hunting collectively and sharing the yield. The indigenous peoples have thus had a weak concept of individual property but a very strong one of collective land and boundaries.

"Before the Han people came, all the land was ours," a Tayal man says, thinking only of collective land lost and not of private land gained.

In fact, it was not until 1928, during the Japanese occupation, that the first attempt was made at ordering the situation. The 250,000 hectares of land set aside for the aborigines then formed the basis for their reservations under the law of 1948. Between 1958 and 1967 the Taiwan provincial government surveyed all the lands under reservation, carefully calculating, based on village populations and adjacent lands, just how much land each person could receive.

The government had intended the reservations to protect the indigenous peoples' society and way of life by cushioning the assault of the outside economy. However, as transportation and communications expanded over the years, the economy of the reservations has become more and more fused with that of the larger society outside, exacerbating the problem of buying and selling or renting out reservation lands.

Land is a symbol of wealth, but if it's not put to use, it's worthless. And making use of land requires agricultural skills, capital, and marketing know-how, all of which most aborigines have lacked. In addition, four fifths or so of the reservation land is dispersed in steep, high-altitude locations difficult to cultivate. As a result, many of the indigenous peoples have chosen a safer way to go--renting their land out to lowlanders.

This practice was especially prevalent during the 1960s and 1970s. According to Kao Ch'un-mu, a Tayal who works in the Jenai Village government, renting out reservation land to lowlanders and working on it, thereby collecting wages in addition to rent and learning some skills at the same time, would seem an excellent deal to many aborigines--except it's illegal.

In fact, the practice has been limited largely to areas located along the three cross-island highways. One of the places it has occurred most is around Lishan, where veterans who built the central cross-island highway in 1959 stayed on to teach the indigenous peoples how to grow temperate-zone fruit trees like apples, peaches, and pears. When lowland businessmen found out there was money to be made there, they were quick in making enticing offers to the aborigines to rent out their lands. One hectare of fruit trees was estimated at the time to net from NT$500,000 to NT$1 million (about US$12,500 to US$25,000) a year in profit.

In the early 1970s, as the Tayals acquired better agricultural techniques from government training classes, many of them began to take back their land and work it themselves, and some became quite rich. In 1979, however, the price of apples plummeted when imports were opened up. Since then, the Tayals have concentrated on pears and peaches, one hectare of which can clear from NT$30,000 to NT$50,000 a year.

Except for places with good transportations, like Lishan, the indigenous peoples of other areas are still worse off than most lowlanders. Statistics of the Taiwan Province Department of Civil Affairs show that the indigenous peoples' per capita income is just one third that of the average citizen, a discrepancy which has led to a serious outflow of the younger generation to the cities. Some 50,000 to 60,000 have left the reservations so far, around one sixth to one fifth of the total aboriginal population of 300,000.

Nearly ten years have passed since the reservation lands were distributed to the aborigines. But many of them seem indifferent about applying for permanent possession. Some may have failed to comply with the soil and water conservation standards required for reapplying. And many of those who have moved out may no longer care much about the land up in the mountains.

Whether or not they obtain permanent ownership papers would seem to matter little to those aborigines who have sold or are renting their land--or to those lowlanders who covet it. In fact, the rental and sale of reservation lands is a kind of open secret that rarely comes to light unless there is a dispute between the two parties.

Although many younger aborigines have sold their land to buy taxicabs or set up small businesses in the city, it seems that even more, after completing their educations, would like to return to the mountains and work the land. As Kung Wen-po of Jenai Village says, although the location, conditions, and market prices may not all be to one's liking, the reservation land is, after all, one's own. "And if you don't put out, it's like being too lazy to pick up gold--you'll never get anything anyway," he says.

[Picture Caption]

Temperate-zone fruit trees have brought prosperity to many aborigines.

Soil and water conservation is particularly important upstream from reservoirs.

Aborigines developed these paddy fields beside a river.

The future prospects of "cold-weather" vegetables grown in the mountains are considered promising.

Black mushrooms and corn are currently the most common aboriginal cash crops.

There's not much to do for entertainment up in the mountains besides napping in the day (above) or having a few with friends in the evening (below). (photo by Vicent Chang)

Another Kind of Couple, 1985 　We've got no mate 　but we've got a friend. 　Sisters, 　with a world of our own.

Dog's Best Friend, 1985 　Mister, mister, don't be mad. 　If you're angry, then I'm sad, 　If you're lonely, then I'm blue. 　If you're tired, then I'll lead you.

The Taiwan Ku Fish.

Temperate-zone fruit trees have brought prosperity to many aborigines.