Kuanghua Market has been operating for more than 32 years now, but in the minds of young people, it's a place to buy electronic goods. It's the elder generation who associate it with used book stalls. The wild assortment of odds and ends old and new was a unique Taipei phenomenon, and the market was also a popular meeting spot for young and old alike.

When visiting the market, don't look down your nose at the tiny stalls of just a few square meters selling electronics--they make the market a place of surprising opportunities for the consumer. In fact, some even say Kuang-hua Market is Taipei's "goose that lays the golden eggs."

Strictly speaking, the merchants squeezed in this space are really order-takers--the businesses rent apartments in the alleys nearby to use as storage space. When a customer places an order, it's taken straight to the storage space to be put together and the item is tested. After school, students can often be seen darting through the market with their school bags, running orders. The place is especially crowded on holidays, when you can barely move an inch. Traffic outside is even affected. Whichever merchant has the "lowest prices in the nation" for the season's hottest electronics product will see crowds consisting not only of Taiwanese but also visitors from Hong Kong, Japan, and America. The used book vendors, however, see few visitors now.

On the eve of his Chinese New Year move to a new store, a bookseller busily packages his wares. Will the new Kuanghua Market, set to open in a year's time, be able to resurrect the vibrancy of its progenitor?

It all started on Kuling Street

Before Kuanghua Market becomes history, let us take a look at the changes it's gone through over the years.

When Kuanghua Market opened on March 11, 1974, it was mainly a market for used books. Calligraphy and antiques were also sold. Most of the vendors were from used book stalls on Ku-ling Street, or the illegally erected stands on Liaoning Street or Antung Street.

According to one Mr. Tsai, an owner of a used book shop on Kuling Street which is still operating, the book business is said to have come to Kuling Street in 1945, when an out-of-work man named Fan began buying and selling books there. Business was going fairly well, so others started up in the area. Around 1961, a dozen or so retired soldiers opened up shops there. The market grew larger still, and as word got out, business got even better. Many merchants did quite well.

By 1968, there were 58 used book stalls. A stall space went for NT$50,000--the price of a small apartment at the time--and demand was such that even those who had the cash weren't assured of a space. The customers were from every segment of society, from elementary school students to college professors. Even tourists from abroad, mostly Japan, would come. Over time, Kuling Street became one of Taipei's most colorful streets. Later, the director Edward Yang even made a film there entitled The Murder on Kuling Street (known as A Brighter Summer Day in English).

In those early days, many family treasures of refugee Nationalist soldiers ended up for sale on Kuling Street. Occasionally a crate of out-of-print books would turn up, or even works by master painter Qi Baishi or a solid-gold incense burner of an aristocratic family. Crowds would come from all over to search for treasures--and of course, many would fall victim to scam artists.

The move

Kuling Street is not far from National Taiwan University and National Taiwan Normal University, and prestigious schools like Chienkuo High School and Taipei First Girl's High School are in the area, so many students frequented the market. With the numbers of students and other book lovers, the street--less than 500 meters long--would get extremely crowded, causing traffic problems and making it an eyesore. Due to this, Taipei mayor Chang Feng-hsu reported to then-premier Chiang Ching-kuo that he was preparing to have the market dispersed.

Premier Chiang, however, felt that a flourishing used book market was a sign that people were reading, and rather than destroying it, the government ought to set it up properly. Because of Chiang's directive, the vendors of Kuling, Liaoning, and Antung Streets were placed in the city's two-story Kuanghua Market under the Sungchiang Road overpass. Now they were licensed merchants.

Premier Chiang himself cut the ribbon at the Kuanghua Market opening ceremony, and the vendors were filled with gratitude. They referred to him affectionately as "Little Chiang." Business was not good at the beginning, as the location had some problems. It was cramped and had no air conditioning. In the summer, it was hot as a furnace, and the heat and stench drove off many book lovers. The city government discounted the rent because of this, only asking NT$400-500 a month. The market's environment slowly improved. Air conditioning and restrooms were installed, and the second floor became devoted to selling antiques, electronics, and cloth.

By the mid-1990s, the used book vendors were in decline. They were moved to a corner in the basement, while sellers of computers and other electronic goods dominated the rest of the market. They even spilled out into the surrounding area on Pate Road, turning the area into Taipei's biggest electronics district. There were reports that the market did as much as NT$10 billion in sales a year. Over 30 years, however, rents only increased an average of NT$1000--meaning the city government needlessly missed out on a sizeable amount of income.

Illicit material invades

At the same time electronics were taking off, the market was flooded with illicit materials--CD-ROMS of pirated software as well as pornographic magazines, books, comics, and VCDs. These not only were harmful to the youth but also destroyed the cultured atmosphere of the stalls selling used books and antiques. The tone of the market changed rapidly. To put a halt to these bad influences, the Taipei City government and the police worked together to run frequent checks on vendors' licenses.

According to a former city official surnamed Chiu who participated in the crackdowns, the vendors got together and hired lookouts to watch for police. When they saw someone "suspicious" coming, they'd immediately report to the vendors. "They'd shout out secret codes to the vendors to alert them," he says.

Commonly used codes included calling out flood or fire, "It's time to eat," or "Move on." As soon as they'd hear the warning, vendors would simultaneously pull down the metal shutters in front of their stalls and temporarily close down. Plain-clothes police would rush in as customers wondered what was going on, but having been exposed, they'd miss their chance to make a bust.

Chiu says pornography was an amazingly profitable business--all the major gangs like the Bamboo Union, the Four Seas Gang, and the Huashan Gang were involved. Fights often broke out over territory, and crackdowns became increasingly dangerous for police. "During crackdowns, it was too dangerous for officers to go in alone. One mistake and they could get in serious trouble, so we always went in teams of seven or eight. Before we moved, we'd have to keep our cover to avoid being spotted by the lookouts. It was really a spy versus spy situation," says Chiu.

The future

The pornographic publications didn't disappear due to the crackdowns, though. Profits from them were just too high, and vendors saw selling them as a risk worth taking. In 2004, four Kuanghua Market vendors had their spaces taken away by the Taipei City Markets Administration Office for selling pornographic materials. The Office then took bids for the spots, and the winning bids averaged NT$1 million a year in rent. Rents at Kuanghua's replacement, the new Information Industry Building, where spaces will be rented under three-year leases, will be even higher.

In reality, many vendors fear losing their customers and have been unwilling to make the move to the temporary site. As early as one year ago they began battling it out for store fronts in the surrounding neighborhood. A prime spot on Pate Road can fetch as much as NT$2 million per ping (approximately 3.3 square meters).

Should the new market in the Information Industry Building retain the success of Kuanghua Market, it has a bright future ahead of it. It seems, however, that the unique scene of treasure-hunting, bargaining, and police-dodging in these crowded quarters is destined to become a thing of the past.