Take the Suao-Hualien Highway (Provincial Route 9) south and after passing through Fenglin Township in Hualien County, turn right onto Provincial Route 16, and head straight for the mountains. At the very end of the road is a tranquil little settlement. When you enter the hamlet, on all sides you can see magnificent old trees piercing the sky, feel a fresh breeze, and hear the sound of birds chirping-and of nothing but birds chirping. In the moist heat of summer, it is like entering the proverbial Chinese "peach blossom paradise" and visitors from outside suddenly feel cool and relaxed. This is Lintienshan Forest, which is also known by the more engaging moniker of "home of the Chinese juniper in Taiwan."

The legend of Morisaka

Six years ago, a graduate student from Tokyo Metropolitan University, doing research on the architecture of communities and villages, accidentally "discovered" a remarkable phenomenon in Lintienshan: more than 100 Japanese-style buildings, with typical "fish-scale" tile roofs, all made entirely from superior grade Chinese juniper. Among them were some Japanese-style officials' residences, of which even Japan itself has no existing examples today. This paradise has since become a precious locale to scholars and artists both home and abroad.

Chuang Ming-yi, the soul of the Lintienshan community development movement, still recalls how a 1996 event sponsored by the Hualien County Cultural Center, called "arts come back home to the countryside," got people thinking. In this activity, outside artists were invited to take up residence in rural communities for a week to create works of art based on the local scenery and life, after which there was an exhibition of these works. "On the day the exhibition opened, villagers were astonished to realize that the place they had lived their entire lives was in fact very beautiful!" This small episode changed Chuang's life, and injected new life into Lintienshan.

The history of Lintienshan goes back 60 years. Systematic development began here in 1939, when it was known by its Japanese name of Morisaka, which means "slopes covered with forest."

When the War in the Pacific broke out, the Japanese needed more lumber for the war effort, and the Japanese government established a logging center in Lintienshan. Railroad cars giving off the fragrance of Chinese juniper crawled up and down the steep slopes on the precipitous route deep into the dark forests. The uninhabited valleys were soon criss-crossed by exploratory roads. Within a short time Lintienshan became famous alongside of Mt. Taiping, Mt. Ali, and Mt. Pahsien as one of Taiwan's four major lumbering areas.

To speed up the pace of work, the Japanese colonial government in Taiwan spared no expense to build office buildings and residences in Lintienshan. One after another, Japanese style buildings made from juniper wood and with characteristic "fish-scale" tile roofs were built in rows at the foot of the mountains. To combat dampness and improve ventilation and natural lighting, the buildings were built on stilts.

Whatever their efforts, the days of the Japanese here were numbered. In 1945 Taiwan was returned to Chinese rule, and the flag over Lintienshan correspondingly changed. First it came under the jurisdiction of the Forestry Bureau of the Taiwan Provincial Government, but was later turned over to the Chunghsing Paper Company to manage. Thus began the golden age in Lintienshan.

Way back when. . .

Tang Chung-li, now retired, who is a community volunteer in Lintienshan, recalls that from the 1950s through the 1970s, the town, like Chiufen (gold mining) and Chishan (bananas), prospered on the strength of its natural resources. Indeed, in those days Lintienshan was known as a "little Shanghai" in Eastern Taiwan. Countless people-Aborigines, Minnanese, Hakka, and even mainlanders-were all drawn here by work opportunities.

During the boom, this mini-city in the mountains had 500 households squeezed into it, and more than 2000 residents. Each and every one of them worked in the lumber industry, and everything in their lives, including food, housing, transportation, entertainment, and even illness and death, were handled through the company. They lived a self-sufficient existence that was removed from the rest of the world.

Liao Ko-jen, formerly the principal of the Ming Yi Primary School in Hualien City (he is now retired), and known as "a friend of Lintienshan," took advantage of the summer holiday and brought his wife and granddaughter on a trip here. He still remembers when the building known as Taiwan's largest juniper structure-Chungshan Hall-was completed in Lintienshan in 1954. In this rural area, that was a really incredible event. Each week two movies were shown free of charge at the hall, and they were always first-run movies appearing at the same time as they did in Taipei. Young men would pedal their bikes for an hour, with their girlfriends aboard, from all the nearby towns and villages, creating quite a bustle in this little mountain settlement.

At that time Lintienshan was astonishingly developed. Merely in terms of railroads, in addition to the forest line, hot springs line, and tourist line built by the Japanese (totaling 17 kilometers), in the 1960s the ROC government spent 10 years building a new rail line of 34 kilometers long at altitudes as high as 2600 meters linking up all the logging areas.

An endless flow of people came through the forest, occupied in jobs like trunk cutting (a preliminary cut of trees that were too large in order to make it easier to transport them down the mountain), gathering the lumber, inspecting and measuring the volume of timber, and so on. All of these were difficult and dangerous tasks, and there was a great sense of camaraderie and of shared mission among the workers.

"Although salaries were very low, the work had a clear objective and someone was looking out for us in our lives. It was like growing up in a warm family, and none of the men who worked together in Lintienshan will ever forget it," says Chuang Ming-yi, a true second-generation Lintienshaner who was born here, grew up here, currently works in the forestry work station, and is also in charge of the Lintienshan cultural and historical workshop.

The calm after the storm

Nonetheless, just as excessive logging took its toll on the forests, the prosperity of Lintienshan also had its day of reckoning. On March 20, 1972, there was a huge fire set off by a careless worker roasting wild game over an open fire, and the entire Lintienshan area became a sea of flame. The worst conflagration in the history of Taiwan forestry, the fire burned for a full month and destroyed 2,000 hectares of high-grade coniferous wood. This unprecedented disaster was a severe blow to Lintienshan.

The year after, Chunghsing Paper Company turned Lintienshan back over to the Forestry Bureau. Subsequently large numbers of workers left, and quiet gradually returned to the mountain town. Thereafter Taiwan's economy was transformed from relying mainly on agriculture to one dominated by light industry, and forestry lost its former importance. Forestry policy was changed from maximizing production to cutting of timber only on small areas in a planned way. Finally, in 1987 the government announced a ban on logging in Lintienshan, which was turned into an ecological conservation area. As a result, the little trains that had chugged along for 60 years came to a standstill, and silence returned to the forest. Inevitably Lintienshan fell into decline.

"Every plant and blade of grass and every tile and house in Lintienshan is the property of the Forestry Bureau. Outsiders cannot come here freely to settle down," explains Chuang Ming-yi. The Forestry Bureau has greatly cut back its operations, and currently there are only 47 employees in Lintienshan. Because the Bureau is not hiring anyone new, there's no work in the community, and the second generation have largely moved away.

The primary school was closed in 1988, leaving children no place to pursue their education. The little train that formerly gave villagers relatively easy access to the outside world, which had run seven times a day, also discontinued operations. Life became much less convenient than before, and those who could leave hurried to do so. Under these circumstances, in which people have been leaving but none can enter, by now Lintienshan only has about 100 registered households, with only about 70 households in fact living in the town. Moreover, most of these are elderly retired forestry workers, and there are very few young men in the prime of life like Chuang Ming-yi.

New life for the community

Lintienshan's glory days had gone. Yet there were still many people who treasured this pearl of Taiwan's forestry history, and looked forward to the day when it could enjoy prosperity again. In 1996, after the "arts come home to the countryside" activity, Chuang Ming-yi was assigned by his superior to attend a lecture and seminar on holistic community building. "I wasn't very enthusiastic about the idea at the time, and I didn't understand anything about architecture or community building. Anyway, I thought, what would they need with a civil engineer in that kind of thing?" says Chuang with a smile.

Community reconstruction begins with remaking people. And the first one to change was Chuang himself. Reclusive by nature, he most liked to wander in the mountains and gaze at the clouds and rivers, going entire days without saying a word. But when he understood that through community revitalization the old town could enjoy a new lease on life, he was immediately enthralled by the idea, and would never let it go again.

"I've lived in Lintienshan for more than 40 years, and I know its natural and human beauty, its history, and the sense of unity in the community. Also it enjoys certain facilities and the people possess relevant know-how and skills, which are things that other communities lack. I felt that we should treasure this place, and could not let it wither away." In order to get support from the outside, Chuang got up his nerve and left the forest, visiting various ministries and universities in search of assistance. After returning to Lintienshan, he visited every household individually, in hopes of reigniting a sense of mission among the older people so that they would work together.

During this period of time, outsiders expressed a great desire to help, and a number of proposals were floated including establishing a provincial park, a forest recreation area, a local fine arts center, and an international arts village. Unfortunately, Lintienshan is in an Aboriginal protected zone. Although when logging first began, the Japanese government ordered most of the local Aboriginal people, who were Bunun, to leave the area, large numbers of Atayal, Amis, and other indigenous people came in as forestry workers. Today there is growing consciousness that land taken from Aboriginal peoples should be returned to them, so anything that involves changing zoning categorization or land use will immediately create controversy.

Light up your life

Because of the elegance and tranquility of Lintienshan, one of the most persistent ideas has been that for an arts village. In order to promote the arts village and develop a greater sense of aesthetic appreciation among residents, Chuang Ming-yi, assisted by Ku Yu-chun, an associate professor at National Dong Hwa University, created a "citizens' arts class" and invited outside teachers to come and give lectures. He hoped that through their pens and through colors the elderly local residents could explore their own feelings and open their hearts. Indeed, many of the works they produced were very touching, so that fine arts educator Liu Hsiu-mei, who came all the way down from Tanshui to teach, praised the people as "artists of the forest."

Chuang also proposed a plan for putting the large number of empty structures in town to use. There are many of these, because when a forestry employee and spouse move away or both pass away, their government-owned residence reverts to the state. With the help of the Council for Cultural Affairs, the former company store and medical office were changed into an exhibition hall for forestry industry artifacts.

In addition, under the name "friends of Lintienshan," retired elderly residents and local elders are being invited to serve as volunteer guides. Visitors not only are able to enjoy the beauty of the forest but also to hear the personal reminiscences of the guides themselves, so that they can recreate in their minds the glory that was once Lintienshan.

There also lies a deeper motive behind getting elderly people up and moving. Not long after the founding of the cultural and historical workshop, Chuang Ming-yi's own mother fell ill with cancer. During the two years of running back and forth between the mountain town and hospitals, Chuang developed a deep understanding of life and death.

"In an isolated place like this, watching the old move out one by one and the place fall into disrepair, many old people felt useless, and their lives were reduced to just counting the days waiting to die. But when they really had to leave, you got a strong feeling that they couldn't bear to go." Seeing such emotional turmoil made Chuang Ming-yi move even faster to revitalize this community. "Rather than complain, it is better to use what strength remains to bring some splendour back into your life!"

The forest for the trees

And as for the future? Last year the Forestry Bureau approved a plan that would create Taiwan's first "Forestry Culture Park" in Lintienshan. It is expected that over the next five years NT$450 million will be invested to create a park of 21.7 hectares.

Ko Yao-hui, director of the Wanjung Work Station of the Hualien Forestry District Administrative Office, the man in charge of Lintienshan, points out: "Bidding has already been completed for the first phase of work, which includes Chungshan Hall and the forestry industry exhibition hall." The entire project will focus on restoring the original appearance, except that old and rotted lumber will be replaced by new juniper beams and pillars. There will be a complete collection of handsaws, chainsaws, forklifts, and rope and pulley systems (used for the dangerous work of ferrying goods and people across gorges) in the exhibition hall, so that children will be able to understand what it must have been like exploring and opening up the mountain forests.

If the town can be considered a living museum of the forestry industry, then the vast expanse of nature behind it is even more of a "treasure mountain." The Wanjung Forestry Road which passes through Lintienshan and extends for 47 kilometers is connected to the Tanta Forestry Road to the west. Together they will make one of the main trunk roads in the "national trail system." The Taiwan Power Company, which is cooperating in the project, has already begun cleanup and reconstruction work. Lake Chitsai, which sits next to the forest road, is wreathed in a sense of the mysteries of the Aboriginal peoples. Moreover, the nearby Wanjung Hot Springs area boasts a famous high altitude ferrous-carbonate spring. And when you also figure that the little train is being put back on line, Lintienshan can offer visitors attractions that are in no way inferior to those at the major tourist site of Mt. Ali.

Ko Yao-hui says: "What we are hoping for is 'a coming out for the forest, a drawing in of the people.'" Their goal is to give people who come here a deeply pleasurable experience and a full understanding of the beauty of Taiwan's mountain forests. Already a considerable number of visitors come here on weekends.

A culture park, combining travel, fun, and learning. . . this really sounds great. However, some scholars remind us to consider the question: "Whose Lintienshan are we really talking about here?"

As one elderly Amis Aboriginal man who has lived here for half a century protests: "We're not animals in a zoo!" Many visitors treat this place as a "folk culture village," peeping through windows, making as much noise as they like without regard for people trying to sleep, and leaving loads of trash, making the local residents feel that they are not being respected.

Another problem is that because of regulations governing state-owned land, only small dry-goods shops and cold-drinks stands can be set up here. Profit-making operations like restaurants and hotels are not permitted. Because local residents are not able to profit from the tourist trade, they are naturally even less enthusiastic about visitors.

Looking ahead

In order to really restore the vitality of Lintienshan it will be necessary to allow outsiders to come in. Recently Lintienshan proposed a "sustainable employment project" to the Council of Labor Affairs. The goal will be to use ecological engineering and development of tourism to attract manpower and create new business opportunities in Lintienshan.

However, even as renovation work in Lintienshan was just getting underway in dribs and drabs, the enormous fire of a year ago was undoubtedly a huge setback.

"Lintienshan's Forestry Culture Park plan had just been sent out at the end of June last year, and then right after that, at the end of July, a fire destroyed eight Japanese-style officials' residences, which were the most beautiful sight in town," says Chuang Ming-yi, whose heart aches just thinking about it. This Kangle New Village, as these two rows of structures were known in Chinese, was nicknamed "Little Chiufen" (in reference to the historic and now heavily touristed town of that name in northern Taiwan, which likewise sits on a steep slope), and was one of the finest spots in Lintienshan. Today it has been completely destroyed, adding an obstacle on the road to the revitalization of Lintienshan.

Although this has been a bitter test, after six years of experience, Chuang Ming-yi and the entire community now feel a strong sense of mission. This major fire has only made them even more aware of how fast things can change, so they are even more determined to move forward.

Chuang, who after the fire spent a month building a memorial park one blade of grass and one stone at a time, stands on the charred ruins of Kangle New Village and says, with steel in his voice: "We must rebuild Kangle, and make it into a symbol of the revitalization of Lintienshan!" This old forestry town is not willing to go quietly into that dark night, but is struggling for renaissance. It is in places like this that one sees the real strength and vitality of Taiwan.

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The forest railway is one of the most interesting sights in Lintienshan. Besides the forestry line into the mountains, there is also a local train for people to travel in and out of the town.

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Six years ago, armed only with a deep love for his hometown, Chuang Ming-yi single-handedly set the community revitalization ball rolling, with impressive results.

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Lintienshan's Kangle New Village, also known as "little Chiufen," was destroyed in a fire a year ago. Chuang Ming-yi has created a small park on the site so that visitors can at least imagine what it must have been like.

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Liao Ko-jen, a former school principal who lives in nearby Fenglin, often came to Lintienshan in the early days to see films and stroll through the streets. Today he is a strong supporter of the community movement there.

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Black tile roofs and green walls with vegetation all around. . . you can't even find Japanese-style structures like these in Japan anymore, only in Taiwan!

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The first stop when you hit the mountains is Lintienshan's one and only dry goods shop. The owner's friendly wave brings you back to a simpler time.

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Follow the rail line straight to the spine of the Central Moun-tain Range, and dense forests and hot springs will ease your mind.

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Wanli Creek, surrounded on all sides by mountains, has crystal-clear water, though the area is subject to landslides during heavy rains.