Over the last 20-plus years, the Chiayi Charitable Group-working mainly on Sundays-has built over 200 bridges in the Yunlin-Chiayi-Tainan region.
"You'd better come in plenty of time. The cars won't wait for anyone!" Just past 6:00 am on a Sunday, with the sky vaguely lit by approaching dawn, dozens of people are gathered in front of the Mintsu Primary School in Chiayi. They are dressed casually, some wearing farmers' hats, others with rain boots on, looking like workmen ready for action.
See you on Sunday!
This is the Chiayi Charitable Group "bridge-building team," famous throughout Taiwan. Every Sunday, people come to participate in the bridge-building. Some drive their own vehicles; others without their own means of transportation hitch a ride with other volunteers.
Seeing unfamiliar faces, a friendly older woman tells us that whatever the vehicle-big trucks fitted out for construction work, pick-ups, or private sedans-they'll all be happy to take anyone who wants to go along for the bridge-building.
It is not long before the vehicles are jammed with people. At 6:30 sharp, as advertised, and without delay, the trip begins. The vehicles traverse small towns like Kukeng, Tungtou, and Tsaoling, and additional cars join the caravan along the way.
The mountain road winds through fascinating scenery, but most people are either carsick or sleeping. After some period of time in this daze, everyone is suddenly shaken awake as the cars starts to bounce and rock.
"Only another half hour and we'll be there," says an older woman with the familiarity of a veteran of these journeys. She says that after this section of riverbed road, we'll arrive in Fengshan. Another woman relates: "The first time I came I didn't know anything, and ate breakfast first, so that by the time I got here I threw up everything." Now, she not only doesn't dare to eat breakfast, she even takes motion sickness pills before setting off.
After being shaken up for two-and-a-half hours, at 9:00 we finally arrive at today's bridge-building site: Fengshan Village in Chiayi County's Alishan Rural Township.
Chiayi Charitable Group leader Ho Ming-te and his wife are already there, having arrived early in a nine-seater van belonging to the group. The 76-year-old Ho looks not the least bit tired, and immediately he sets off to check out the construction situation.
The rocky road to love
So this is Fengshan Village, hemmed in by mountains and scene of some of the worst damage from Typhoon Herb. Although the typhoon hit a full six months ago, there is still extensive damage all around, and the riverbed is filled with huge boulders washed down from upstream.
Huang Hsin-fa, Fengshan Village mayor, has been at the bridge-building site since early morning. He tells us that Fengshan is surrounded by several rivers-the Shikupan, the Kankang, and the Chiaolung-so getting in and out of the village has always been difficult. Early on there was only a wooden-plank bridge over the Shikupan. This was usable during the dry season, but often was washed out during the rainy season (May to October) when the depth of the water gets to five meters or more.
Hsu Ming-yueh, former chairman of the Alishan Rural Township Assembly, has an especially deep impression of what could happen when the bridge was out: "It was the first day of 1986, my wedding day. It was pouring rain, and the stream was swollen. The wedding limo was blocked at the river for two hours, and finally we had to load it on the back of a trailer truck to get it across the river." Coincidentally, a member of the Chiayi Charitable Group was in attendance at that wedding, and told Ho Ming-te that Fengshan was in dire need of a reliable bridge. Within some months, a concrete structure to span the Shikupan-Shantien Bridge-was completed.
Last July, Typhoon Herb caused severe destruction in the area; the bridge was destroyed and the road washed away, thus leaving the village "besieged," without any land access to the outside world. For a month, food had to be airlifted in by helicopter. It happened that Huang Hsin-fa's daughter-in-law's water broke at that time, so she was med-evaced out of the village in a chopper belonging to a legislator, a story that made the newspapers.
Fengshan's savior
Fengshan has 97 households and 400 or so residents, most of whom depend on tea cultivation or tourism for their livelihoods. Thus, when Typhoon Herb cut off the road, it also cut off their lifelines. As Township Assemblyman Liu Chia-chi, who runs a hotel, says, "There have been no guests since Typhoon Herb, and the only thing the hotel is good for is raising mosquitoes." He estimates that losses have reached NT$3 million in the past half year.
In order to restore land access to the outside world as quickly as possible, the residents of Fengshan naturally thought of the people who had helped them once before-the Chiayi Charitable Group. Thus Huang Hsin-fa, Liu Chia-chi, and Hsu Ming-yueh went to pay a call on "Director Ho."
As Liu explains, "Go to the government? That would have been way too slow!" He says that a bridge has long been planned for a spot on the Shikupan about one mile upstream of where the new Chiayi Group bridge is going up. Applications had been made to the government for two or three years until finally approval was received last year; yet even now there is no sign of construction getting under way.
Hsu notes that it is difficult to get appropriations for projects in the mountains; remote locations and few residents mean that it is not easy to see results from such expenditures. Thus, when Ho came to Fengshan last October 10, as he had promised, to have a look at the situation, villagers were so thrilled that they met him all along the road lighting celebratory firecrackers.
Owing to the urgency of bridge construction at Fengshan, Ho arrived with workmen within two weeks to begin ground-breaking. "The government could never work this efficiently," avers village head Huang.
"When the Chiayi Charitable Group builds a bridge, we don't have to have meetings, apply for appropriations, or conduct bidding, so naturally we work faster than the government," says Ho politely. He adds, modestly, that it is inevitable that there are a few things the government can't get to right away, and fortunately his group can be there to fill the gap.
Heaven lends a helping hand
"The level of the riverbed is already higher than the height of the original bridge [that had been washed away]," say Ho, pointing to the site. The previous bridge was only 40 meters long, but the new one will have to be 120 meters. With such severe damage from the storm to the riverbed itself, no wonder the Shantien Bridge had been uprooted without a trace.
Chiayi Group bridges, of whatever size or length, are all "standard issue." They are simple and strong in appearance, giving observers the same feeling that one gets from the bridge-builders themselves.
In fact, though the bridges are "nothing to boast about" in terms of looks, it is obvious that they are constructed well and with remarkable efficiency. Ho notes, "Besides the Shantien Bridge, which was washed away, I've never heard of any other bridge built by us that isn't usable." Of course, not all the work is done by the volunteers, who can only come out on Sundays to do some simple work with gravel and soil. Some technical tasks, like foundation-laying and pillar construction, must be subcontracted out. However, the Group buys all the materials itself and closely supervises the work, so that it is impossible for the common problem of material theft to occur, and the bridges end up being strong and long-lasting. The oldest, the Huisheng Bridge, has 26 years behind it, and is still being used in safety and with confidence.
The Hsingtien Bridge in Fengshan is the 222nd built by the Group. But it is the first to use a new technique-prestressed beam construction. Prestressed beams can take heavy loads; also, due to the larger spans, there is more room for water to pass, increasing safety. But this method is also more costly. It is estimated that the Hsingtien Bridge carries a price tag of NT$10 million.
Mention such a large sum, and Ho Ming-te doesn't even blink. "If people work hard, Heaven will protect them," he says with conviction as he gazes across at the construction in progress.
What makes him so sure? "The real force behind charity is the Jigong Huofo ['Living Buddha, Lord of Charity']. I'll take care of the tangible things, and he will take care of the intangibles," states Ho, with an air of profundity. The construction of bridges these many years has gone as smoothly as if assisted by providence, without work ever having to be halted because of typhoons or heavy rain. "Such mysterious little circumstances are all the result of help provided by the forces of Heaven and protection provided by the spirits."
Will work for the fun of it
After the first few weeks of work, the piers of the Hsingtien Bridge are already completed. Today the volunteers are laying the deck. At the worksite, no one is seen to be giving out orders or assigning people to tasks; everything moves forward smoothly and automatically. Some people take responsibility for digging up rocks and gravel; others, working in pairs, carry bamboo baskets full of gravel to the bridge, and come back for another load when they are done.
It turns out most of the people here are "veteran bridge-builders." One elder says that in the early years only a few dozen people took part in the bridge-building, with most riding bikes or motorcycles to the work site.
As the civil engineering accomplishments of the Chiayi Charitable Group advanced, through word of mouth others heard and joined in. There are no gender or age limits for volunteers; anyone can participate.
One 94-year-old woman jauntily works right along with the others transporting sand. When you ask her directly how old she is, she always replies, "I've forgotten!"
"At first we didn't want her to come for safety reasons, so we deceived her and told her to come for her ride at 8:00. After doing so several times, she finally showed up one day at 6:00!" says Ho. He adds, as he points out the old woman, that he watched her health improve over time, and her appetite increase with physical labor, so he stopped trying to prevent her from coming along.
At a rough count, more than 100 volunteers are here for today's bridge-building work. Off to one side, Mrs. Ho says, "Actually, this is a relatively low turnout." She explains that fewer people have come than usual because of the difficulty in getting out to remote Fengshan and also because one group member's daughter is getting married on this day.
When they get tired, they rest, and idle shovels and bamboo baskets are immediately taken over by other hands. It seems like everybody is fighting for the chance to do some work, being only afraid of not doing as much as everyone else. Off to one side, a woman who wasn't quite quick enough to grab a shovel puts her hands on her hips and purses her lips as she grumbles: "If they love it so much, then let them do it, what do I care?"
Happy beasts of burden
It is 10:00 am, and the sun is getting hot. Villagers send out boiled eggs, vegetarian dumplings, pumpkin cakes, cassava and aiyu bing (a drink made with gelatin and lemon juice over ice). The woman who made the cassava and aiyu bing gives her wares the "hard sell," pushing everyone to sample her handiwork. She emphasizes that aiyu is a totally homegrown product, and completely natural, quite different in flavor from any artificial compound.
Taking advantage of the fact that everyone takes a break for a snack in the rest area, we hurry forward to talk to them.
Yet, except for a few, the vast majority seem unwilling to say much. It may be because of the Buddhist belief that once one boasts of one's charitable deeds, any merit earned for them is discounted. Thus, in order to receive full merit for good deeds, one should not talk about them.
"People who don't know anything about us think that we are in a sad state because we work so hard. In fact, for us this is like a trip to the country-it's great fun!" says the white-haired Mrs. Ho as she gestures with her hands. "If it really were such hard work, nobody would come!"
"We are all slow-moving beasts of burden," jokes a Mr. Su, a retired engineer from the government highway bureau. Any intelligent businessmen, he muses, would never hire workers like these, who labor only when they have a sense of purpose. "Anyway," he adds, "we'd never hire ourselves out to anyone!"
In fact, people from all walks of life participate in the volunteer bridge-building. Some are in the police, others are teachers, taxi drivers, or what have you. Most of them do this work during time off from their regular jobs.
Li Wen-sheng drives a cab for a living. Others say of him that "he works even harder as a volunteer than he does as a driver." Besides working on Sundays, Li often does the driving for Ho Ming-te when Ho visits construction sites to oversee what the contractors are doing.
Though all the bridge-building sites are in or near Chiayi County, volunteers come from all over-Kaohsiung, Tainan, Ping-tung. . . . Members of the faithful at the Tzu Lung Temple in Yungkang City in Tainan County, just to make sure they are able to join in the bridge-building work, drive to the construction site on Saturday evening and camp out there overnight. One of these, Mrs. Tung, says, "We had always done volunteer road work, but we hadn't done any bridge-building until we saw a report about the Charitable Group on TV three months ago, so we came to join in."
Silent charity, boundless merit
If charitable people want to enjoy the full merit for good deeds, not only must they not boast, they may not accept rewards either. "In the early days we even brought our own boxed lunches with us, and felt it was wrong to accept food from the local people," recalls Ho. The group isn't that strict anymore, for two reasons: First, it is hard to refuse such good intentions on the part of local people. Furthermore, with increasing numbers of people joining in, it became hard to "restrain" everyone.
In fact, the Chiayi Charitable Group isn't really an "organization ," as there are no rules or requirements. There is no formal initiation for new members, nor are there membership IDs. There are no conditions or restrictions for entering or leaving the group. There are no meetings or "get-togethers," and indeed members rarely ask each other for names, places of residence, or backgrounds. This makes the group markedly different from others like the Lions or Rotary Club where members can "network."
So what has brought the supporters of this group all together? What makes this group of "camel laborers" work on, happily and inexhaustibly?
The answer is clearly written on the receipts given for donations. "Building bridges helps the nation and benefits society [helping others]. . . . and it can relieve all foreordained obstacles and past sins (bad karma), and lead away from the pains of life [helping oneself]."
"Some people who have suffered long or who have accumulated a lot of bad karma can eliminate this bad karma through bridge-building," avers Ho Ming-teh. Those who donate money for bridge-building simply have to note the name of the beneficiary of this merit-the contributor him- or herself, the holder of a debt of past grievance, deceased parents, the spirit of an aborted child, the Lord of Charity, the goddess Kuanyin, and so on. When these documents are reported to Heaven, the merit will be properly credited.
The Chinese bridge-building dream
The idea that one can accumulate merit through charity is part of the traditional Chinese concept that deeds (good or bad) will earn their just desserts. Prior to the modern volunteer conception of "finding joy through helping others," the idea of "gaining merit for the nether world" was long the main motive force to encourage ordinary people to do good. However, given that there are so many types of charity, why choose bridge-building?
For Ho Ming-te, who graduated from the Juifang School of Civil Surveying and has a deep interest in civil engineering, he found that the most natural thing was to choose something he was good at.
Whatever Ho's particular individual reasons, it is also true that bridge building is, along with road work, disaster relief, and food distribution, a very traditional form of charity in China.
Juan Chang-jui, director of the anthropology section of the Taiwan Provincial Museum of History, points out that, given the Buddhist belief that all deeds get their just desserts, doing something beneficial for others, or making things easier and more convenient for others, qualifies as a form of meritorious behavior. Because in the past travel was very difficult, many people devoted themselves to building roads or bridges.
Lin Han-chang, a noted amateur historian (known, for his broad learning and his basement-level bookshop, as "the underground professor"), adds that Confucian doctrine included the idea that all acts have graded values. Every act of benevolence-and every error-has a given value, with building a bridge being ranked right up with saving a life at "100 merit points."
Building a bridge is not cheap, so it is not the kind of charity that just anyone can do. But Ho has adopted the method of "building a tower one grain at a time"-accumulating a great deal of money through small contributions-thus allowing everyone to join in the bridge-building dream and give themselves "100 merit points."
"Bridge-building not only makes life easier for creatures with form, it also helps those without form." What Ho Ming-te means by "creatures with form" are tangible beings like people, chickens, and dogs. By "those without form" he means ghosts and spirits. As he says: "The palanquins and coffins of even the spirits must cross bridges."
Yet Ho himself only began with simple road building. His eldest daughter, Chen Mei-chih, reveals that around 1968 or 1969 one of Ho's close friends was seriously injured in a motorcycle accident after running into a pothole. Ho led a number of family and friends out at night, when traffic was lighter, to go around repairing potholes. This matter was discovered by a local reporter for the United Daily News. For the use of the story, the reporter gave them the name "Chiayi Charitable Group." (Though the group later substituted a different character for the original one pronounced "yi" in the word "Chiayi," the name still translates the same into English.)
In 1971, in Chungpu Rural Township in Chiayi County, two brothers were carried away and drowned while trying to cross a stream. The members of the group were deeply moved, and everyone donated money to construct the Huisheng Bridge on the spot. Thereafter, people came knocking on the door looking for help one after another. Thus one bridge led to another, and the work has never ceased.
However, the group's bridge-building activities have never expanded beyond Chiayi and neighboring Tainan and Yunlin. The reason is that most volunteers are Chiayi folk, and, much as they would like to, they cannot make day trips to more remote places to work.
Three bridges for one hundred dollars
It is now past 11:00 am, and a car brings out a lunch prepared by the Fengshan villagers. There are entrees, rice, soup, and noodles, and everybody helps themselves to whatever they want. As a thoughtful gesture to the not-insignificant number of vegetarians among the volunteers, some non-meat dishes have been specially prepared.
After a morning of robust physical labor, the volunteers wash their hands and then plunge into their food with ravenous appetites.
Having built roads and bridges in relative obscurity for two decades, in 1995 Ho (nominated by the ROC Office of the President) was awarded the Magsaysay Prize by the Philippines. Suddenly the Chiayi Charitable Group was famous.
Receiving the Magsaysay Prize gave Ho his first ever chance to go abroad. It also led to a sharp rise in the number of group members to 120,000 from the previous figure of 80,000.
In the tiny "office"-the living room of Ho's house-every day people come to donate money. In the bags of donations, often the money is wrapped in calendar paper, with the name and address of the contributor and the person to whom the merit is to be credited written in large, distinct characters on the outside. Ho insists that every NT$100 contribution accepted include a name and address, "Otherwise, if Heaven comes to check up on where the money came from, how am I to respond?"
Ho's daughter Chen Mei-chih explains that each time a bridge is finished, they draw up a list of the names and addresses of all contributors, and make for each a so-called shuwen (a formal report), to give the Jade Emperor in Heaven a clear accounting.
The form of the shuwen, with red writing on yellow paper, was devised by Ho himself. Mei-chih takes responsibility for entering the contributors' data into the computer for the final printouts. Mrs. Ho jests that "these documents won't need stamps!" That's because, when the shuwen is completed, it is enough that it be burned to be sent up for Heaven's perusal.
Most charitable organizations accumulate donations, but Ho has a different outlook. "What would we do with so much money? We are not building up assets. All we need is to collect enough for each bridge."
In the early days each supporter would donate NT$30 or $40 each time; now the amount is NT$100 (just under US$4). Says Ho: "Money is limited, but the number of people is not." A donation of NT$100 for every three bridges is something everyone rich or poor can afford.
When there is money left over after bridge-building, the group donates it for coffin materials. As Ho reasons, "When someone dies they want to go happily into the earth; they cannot be left waiting for a long time." Thus, providing coffins to help people is also highly meritorious.
Not spoiled by success
It is now past 12:00 noon, and Ho finally has a chance to go to the van to eat the boxed lunch his wife prepared for him.
"I never thought I'd be doing this for this long, and I never thought about finding a successor," Ho tells us, eating as we chat. As of February 1997, the Chiayi Charitable Group has built 222 bridges, with six more projects ready to get started. As for how long Ho will keep going, he himself doesn't know: "Until I can't move anymore!" he laughs. These days the thought often comes up: "I'm old, and can't keep doing this."
The number of pledged contributors currently totals 168,000 (one individual may pledge more than once). For each contribution, a receipt and a shuwen must be drawn up. Says Mrs. Ho, "It's too much, and when I get frustrated, I really wish that there weren't so many contributions." With her mobility limited by bad feet, she usually takes charge of recording and organizing the data on contributions, and just rests without much to do at the construction site.
Off to one side, her son-in-law Hsiao Feng-yen tells her: "Mother, don't do anything. I just moved a few extra loads on your behalf."
Though the group has reached a scale of operations that no one anticipated at the beginning, it has never changed its laid-back way of doing things: "Whatever happens, happens."
Hsiao Feng-yen, taking a rest as he eats, finally relents and agrees to talk with us, in order to clarify the donation situation. "The Chiayi Charitable Group has not established any legal foundation, nor are there any fixed memberships, nor is there capital accumulation. First we draw up a bridge-building proposal, and then send out a request for donations saying how much we need." The advantage of this is that there are no hassles associated with managing funds, and work can terminate at any time.
"This can only be done by people with self-discipline and self-cultivation," says Hsiao. In his eyes, Ho Ming-te's personal integrity gives the old man great charisma and character.
Nothing better to do?
In just one morning, the surfacing work is already completed on the first section of the bridge. The next section is farther away from the cement mixer, so, with a shout to get started, everybody lines up on the bridge to pass along the buckets of wet cement from hand to hand.
Although Fengshan residents are generally delighted with the work of the group, there are exceptions. An old woman, some of whose betel nut trees had to be cut down to make way for the bridge, can't help but complain: "These Chiayi people seem to have nothing better to do, and no place to spend money, so they come here to build a bridge and I end up losing my betel nut trees."
On hearing complaints such as these, Ho doesn't get upset. He says that "The Chia-yi Charitable Group doesn't try to impose any conditions before bridge-building, and we don't ask for anything in return. We'll help out anywhere there is a road, a river, and people." He adds that, so long as the group is not manipulated by anyone for selfish interests, any other complaints are left to the residents; the group does not get involved.
It is coming on 3:30 in the afternoon, and the surfacing work has reached a stage where work can pause for the time being. Ho encourages everyone to hurry up and clean up the worksite to prepare to go home. "We are far away from everything up here, and when it gets dark the mountain roads are dangerous, so we have to pack up as quickly as we can."
On the return trip, everyone is tired. Having spent 20 years of Sundays in this way, Ho is asked whether he has any especially deeply etched memories. He smiles and shakes his head: "I've forgotten most everything."
Forgotten past, known future
To restore the livelihoods of the people of Fengshan Village, work was hastened to complete the bridge before the Chinese New Year in early February, with the formal opening ceremony scheduled for after the holidays. "When the bridge is finished, then it's none of our business anymore!" says Ho. A solemn ceremony is held to open each bridge to traffic, while the villagers also plan a banquet on that day to thank the volunteers.
Ho Ming-te rarely looks back on any of these bridges that he has designed on his own and devoted so much effort to constructing. "In fact, there is rarely even an opportunity to see them again," he says, unless he happens to be passing over one.
After the ceremony opening the bridge to traffic, the Hsingtien Bridge is lifted from the shoulders and minds of the Chiayi Charitable Group. Next week they will be somewhere else, beginning work on another bridge.
p.122
In the early days, only 10 or 20 volunteers were around for bridge-building. (photo courtesy of Ho Ming-te)
p.123
Rivers surround Fengshan Village, making for great scenery but difficult access. The photo shows the Hsingtien Bridge, which spans the Shikupan River, while under construction.
p.124
Because of transportation limitations, the Charitable Group only builds bridges in the Chiayi vicinity.
p.125
The Chiayi Charitable Group sets no requirements for or limits on membership, and the volunteers who provide vehicles for working excursions will give a ride to anybody who wants to go.
p.126
Ho Ming-te, a deep believer, takes the ceremonies for ground-breaking and opening to traffic very seriously, always inviting a medium to dispel malevolent influences.
p.127
In a ground-breaking ceremony, Ho, as always, respectfully asks Heaven for help that the work might progress safely and smoothly.
p.128
In the atmosphere of the work site, everyone competes to do things, fearing only that they will do less than others, or lose "merit."
p.129
Besides the construction work, the Group holds no meetings or get-togethers; members only have a nodding acquaintance with each other and rarely ask each other personal questions.
p.130
In the small office, people come with donations virtually every day, with the names and addresses of contributors clearly indicated on the paper.
In the beginning, no one ever expected things to get so big. Yet a roomful of congratulatory plaques and awards has not made any apparent change in Ho's life or charitable inclinations.
p.132
For many volunteers, charitable work absolves accumulated bad karma.
(opposite page) One small bridge can make a big difference to villagers' lives. Wherever the bridge-builders go, there also goes love.
Ho Ming-te, a deep believer, takes the ceremonies for ground-breaking and opening to traffic very seriously, always inviting a medium to dispel malevolent influences.
In a ground-breaking ceremony, Ho, as always, respectfully asks Heaven for help that the work might progress safely and smoothly.
In the atmosphere of the work site, everyone competes to do things, fearing only that they will do less than others, or lose "merit.".
Besides the construction work, the Group holds no meetings or get-togethers; members only have a nodding acquaintance with each other and rarely ask each other pe rsonal questions.
In the small office, people come with donations virtually every day, wit h the names and addresses of contributors clearly indicated on the paper.
In the beginning, no one ever expected things to get so big. Yet a roomful of congratulatory plaques and awards has not made any apparent change in Ho's life or charitable inclinations.
For many volunteers, charitable work absolves accumulated bad karma.
（opposite page） One small bridge can make a big difference to villagers' lives. Wherever the bridge-builders go, there also goes love.
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