Liu Hsing-chin was born in 1934, in Hengshan, Hsinchu. Down to the present, he maintains the simple and hard-working attitude of a Hakka. When looking back at the moments in his life that Liu feels are most worth remembering, he recalls incidents from his impoverished childhood that sound a lot like what his character Ah-Chin endured. For example, carrying his sister on his back while leading the family's water buffalo on a several-mile journey to school. The experiences of his childhood are etched deeply in his mind.

Reflecting on those times, Liu says, "The toughest times were right after Taiwan returned to Chinese rule." There was a drought for two years, when they would sometimes have to eat ferns instead of rice. These travails are movingly related in the comic book Stories of a Farming Village. The Stories of Ah-Chin has also moved readers to countless tears.

Liu Hsing-chin patented over 140 inventions in a decade. These are a few of his creations.

The king of ideas

"The incidents in that comic book all deal with real-life stories involving me and 'The Water Buffalo Principal,' Tsai Yuan-ching." Liu has enormous respect for the principal of his elementary school. "To allow us to focus on our schoolwork, the principal would help tend our water buffaloes, so we called him the water buffalo principal." During the harvest, the principal and his wife and two daughters once even helped Liu's family harvest tea. They picked all day but wouldn't accept any wages for their work.

As a small boy, Liu Hsing-chin was always the smartest kid around and brimming with ideas. In The Story of Ah-Chin there are many stories in which the principal asks for Ah-Chin's help. For instance, Ah-Chin designs a simple water distributor for him. For this reason, the principal had a special fondness for Ah-Chin and would help his family with their troubles. The pride that this special care instilled in Liu would motivate Liu to attain his later success.

Many people have their own vivid memories of Liu's comics, recalling a sense of having entered Liu's world. When parents give these to their children, it's like they are teaching them Taiwanese history. For instance, in Ah-San and Big Auntie Travel to Taipei, you see that there used to be a row of employment agencies right behind the train station. "If you walked by in a suit, you'd be swarmed by people asking if you were hiring." This comic is also a personal favorite of Liu's, "because Ah-San is really me and Big Auntie is really my mother. The book is full of funny conversations we had."

Just how good are Ah-San and Big Auntie? Put it this way: perhaps none of the various comic book characters that have attained popularity in Taiwan in recent years-from Doraemon to Chibi Maruko to Crayon Shin Chan-are their equal.

Long-time reader Harrison Hsueh remembers that when he was little and first started reading Liu's comic strips in newspapers, he would often burst out laughing, totally incapable of containing himself. He still vividly remembers when Ah-San got thumped when he asked Big Auntie to show others how she ate.

Ah-San and Big Auntie Tour Taiwan was the name of a regular strip that Liu penned for the Taiwan Daily News. After it started coming out, circulation visibly increased. The paper gave Liu a press badge so he could go anywhere he wanted to draw. For a time, Taiwan's famous historical sites all became the backdrop for Liu's strips. Liu says proudly, "God probably took pity on me when He saw me bent over my work at home day after day, hardly ever going out, and so He decided to let me go out and play."

When Liu graduated from Junior High School, he passed the entrance exam for the Taipei Municipal Teachers School. He enrolled not because he wanted to become a teacher, but rather because of the free room and board: "I never had a lot of ambition. Other kids may have wanted to become the president or a doctor or a scientist, but I never had such thoughts. When I graduated from Junior High I wanted to keep studying because otherwise I would have to go help people slaughter pigs. I was quite afraid when I asked my parents to let me continue my studies. My father said that I could but that I couldn't get any money from the family. How could I eat? Where could I live? My only choice was to go to a teachers' school.

Hengshan Township has turned two of Liu's characters, Ah-San and Big Auntie, into local tourist attractions.

The path to glory unintended

Liu's eventual career as a cartoonist had a lot to do with his going to the Taipei Teachers School. His father told him that if he flunked out and had to repeat a year he would have to come back home and get to work. To avoid that fate of hard labor, stooped in the fields under the scorching sun, Liu worked hard. Other students only turned in 20 sketches a semester, but he turned in 100.

Liu's classmate Hsu Chi-lin, who also ended up creating comics, explains that although he had the highest score on the entrance exam to the art program in the school, Liu ended up graduating first in the class. Back then schools required students to take midday naps, but Liu never slept, Hsu recalls. Instead he would go by himself to the art studio and sketch. Doing this day after day, Liu got better and better. At the end of the term, the teacher bought a present for Liu and said that in all his years of teaching he had never met a student who was as diligent as Liu. The teacher was truly fond of Liu. In Hsu's memories, Liu comes across as a determined hard worker, who goes all out once he decides to do something.

Liu never really never made a decision to pursue a career as a cartoonist. He created his first strip Records of the Search for Immortals in 1955. When he recalls his motivation for creating the strip, he can't help but laugh.

"Little comics" were all the rage back then. These palm-sized comic books were filled with stories about martial artists, fairies and demigods. A lot of kids fell completely under their spell, and it got to the point where they would even leave home and walk into the hills, hoping to find masters who would teach them kungfu or tell them how they could turn themselves into immortals.

Finally, the Ministry of Education issued an order for teachers to take care that their students weren't reading comic books. Liu, who was then teaching at the Yunglo Elementary School, sat up and took note. He discovered that children were ignoring their teachers' and parents' injunctions and using their allowance money to buy these comic books. So when the principal of the school asked Liu to come up with some sort of plan to prevent the kids from reading these despicable "little books," Liu decided to fight fire with fire. He created Record of the Search for Immortals, a comic book whose message was that kids shouldn't be reading comic books filled with fantastic beasts and demigods.

Little did he expect his comic book to become a best seller. In 1955 his monthly salary was NT$380, and the publishers paid him NT$2,000 for Record. There weren't that many books being published back then, but once his books started selling well and he started to gain some name recognition, numerous publishers sought him out. Overnight, Liu went from being an unknown elementary school teacher to being the hottest comic book creator around. As soon as Liu realized that writing comic books would raise his income appreciably, he started writing them in earnest. All these experiences ended up as material for The Story of Ah-Chin.

Later another cartoonist told him that when he got stuck in a rut and wasn't producing any good work, the best medicine was to go to a coffee shop, bar or dance hall and go a little crazy. Liu, the clean-living country bumpkin that he was, said that he had never gone into one of those "dark" places and that he had no inclination to go.

Liu thought to himself that a comic strip must have its own unique character to attract people's notice. "What was my special quality?" Liu asked himself. He suddenly realized that he could take his most oafish side as the basis for Ah-San. Then he used his mother's personality to create another character for the comic strip: Big Auntie.

Liu says that his mother was born loud and strong. At the age of 93 she would walk up stairs faster than teenagers. When she sang at a Hakka folk song competition at the age of 95, her voice was as sonorous as a church bell and she ended up taking first prize. She had a straightforward no-nonsense personality that couldn't abide idlers or gluttons. When she came across gangsters or others who lacked a sense of righteousness, she wasn't shy about giving them a piece of her mind. She never feigned civility.

When these two funny and clearly defined characters of real substance appeared, it was hardly surprising that they attracted readers' attention. You could find posters promoting their comic books on streets all over Taiwan. With his publishers constantly at him to produce more, Liu could only wish that he could grow another two hands.

Liu's comics were so uniquely his because Liu was drawing from his own experiences and basing his characters on the people that he had known and the funny things that he had witnessed at every stage of his life. It was only in his earliest comic book Records of the Search for Immortals and the later Robot that he tinged the happenings of every day life with a bit of the magical. Who would have thought that Robot, this little helper whom children adored, would cause Liu to become an inventor?

Bragging rights

In the early 1970s, Liu created Robot at a publisher's request. As a result a young reader told him: "You're telling a tall tale! Unless you want to show some proof, I don't think that such a thing as Robot exists. " So as not to invite a child's reproach, Liu plunged into the world of invention. The first thing he invented was a robotic learning aid. It would clap for the right answer, and would shake its head for a wrong one.

Back before most people had ever seen a computer, this device really seemed marvelous. An American company ended up licensing the rights to the device for two years, giving him tens of thousands of NT dollars every month. Though just an educational toy, it earned Liu NT$6 million more than two decades ago. With that as his start, Liu threw himself into inventing things, and by 1978 he had 138 patents to his name.

He invented all manner of devices, from a hot and cold water faucet that can still be found in many homes, to a mechanical pencil, to a multi-headed clothes-drying rack. But educational toys were what comprised the majority of his inventions and made him the most money. These included "wisdom beads," which children could divide between various colors, shapes and animals, as well as a toy called "Little Driver," a paper toy that helped teach people how to drive. Liu took everything he experienced during his nearly ten years as an inventor-from looking for inspiration, to finding the right partners and enjoying his family's support, to even the occasional setback such as being cheated-and used it as material for his last series of comics: Weird Tales of Invention. After finishing this series, he felt that he had met his obligation to himself and to society, and so he stopped writing and looked for some other way to "have fun."

Many people have asked Liu why he is so smart and inventive. Liu always explains that as a little boy he developed the habit of thinking his way past obstacles. "Necessity is the mother of invention," he says. For instance, he once invented some electronic musical shoes even though he hadn't previously known anything about electronics.

"First I drew up plans, then I added things based on what I learned from others, and finally I had someone make up a sample. After trying this and that, we finally ended up with electronic musical shoes." Liu notes that painters make up a larger percentage of inventors than any other group of people. Liu believes that when you draw up accurate plans for an invention, you're half the way to success.

Liu Hsing-chin has three daughters and a son, three of whom are living in the United States. Pictured here are Liu, his wife, their third daughter Liu Wei-chi (first on right, living in Taiwan), her husband, and their son.

Returning to Neiwan

Now living in the United States, Liu comes back to Taiwan once every six months to pass along the fruits of his research to nursery school teachers. Liu often says that the thing he regrets most is that he didn't give a sketch to his old principal before he died. He feels an attachment to his homeland that is hard to break. Even though he's been out of the country for many years, he still can't forget his hometown, and when the town needs his assistance, Liu does all that he can to help.

Last May Hengshan announced that it was promoting a new commercial district in Neiwan Village, and that it was interested in using Liu's humorous cartoon characters as local mascots to be featured on tourism billboards and promotional materials, and thereby help boost tourism. As soon as Liu learned about this plan, he immediately agreed and gave the town the rights to use his characters Ah-San and Big Auntie without any conditions. For this project, Liu also twice returned to Taiwan to discuss project details. The district was expected to officially open in March.

Peng Jui-hsueh, who works for Hengshan Rural Township handling cultural and historical matters, says that the town has a lot of beautiful scenery for tourists to enjoy, but that it scores lower in terms of cultural atmosphere. As a widely known cartoonist who is a native son, Liu has brought honor to the whole town. By using him to promote the town, they have an opportunity to give more local flavor to the new commercial district in Neiwan Village.

Although he long ago stopped drawing comic strips and patenting inventions, Liu is not idle. For the last several years, he has been enraptured with inkwash paintings. Starting from scratch in a new field, Liu pooh-poohs the skeptics who say that he's too late to start and quotes the classical Chinese poet Lu You: "In my sixties I suddenly longed to write poetry. My mastery is for me alone to know. Sitting under the lamp in the cold of night I smile. That's when I take the gold pill of sextagenarian wisdom." Liu says that it's only at this time of life that one really starts producing excellent work.

Rather than turning to the beautiful mountain scenery in front of his American residence for subject matter, Liu has been mining his childhood. Scenes of his hometown's past are featured in works such as Ginning Rice, A Coir Raincoat and Rolling Logs. "These are all precious components of our Taiwanese past," he says. And yet, he spent his life drawing pictures and rarely toiled in the fields. But most farmers and laborers can't draw and paint. Born to a poor farming family in hard times, he had God-given artistic talent. Not wanting waste this gift, he has found an outlet for it on paper, allowing future generations of Taiwanese to know how their ancestors spent their days toiling and getting calluses on their hands. Collected together, these paintings make for a lively history of life in a Taiwanese farming village of the past.

This new sense of mission has reinvigorated Liu, who has just as much strength and energy as ever even in his 70s. He says that there was one period after he had attained total financial and career success that Liu nonetheless felt like dying. It was as if there was nothing more for him to accomplish. Day after day, he was a glutton and idler and had no interest in living. In comparison, wasn't he better off as a child, with 20 patches on his clothes, but happily drawing with flower oil, resin and charcoal?

Fortunately, his daughter, a doctor and devout Christian who lives in America, showed him the light of the Gospels. With his mind and spirit at peace, he has once again started to paint, taking as subject matter all the activities of a traditional Taiwanese farming village. His life once again has purpose.

Liu notes that as you walk across the sands on the beach of life, it's best neither to follow the tracks of others nor walk in one's old footprints. The ocean's waves wash away all traces of the past, so that everything returns to new beginnings. It doesn't bother him that he has to start all over again. He's just listening to what the voice inside is telling him to do.

Perhaps this enlightened outlook on life, and his desire to serve others has allowed Liu, who brims with humor and creativity, to forever resemble the character of Ah-Chin in our minds: unpretentious and intelligent, with cowlicks in his hair, forever making the world laugh.

Liu returned to his grade school, Tashan Elementary School, to take a picture, but the school has long since closed its doors. He spent the happiest years of his life there. Our hats are off to Principal Water Buffalo for enabling a remote grade school like this to turn out an author whose name has become a household word.

There are lots of places in Neiwan that are worth a visit. This is the Yuluo Creek, a popular recreation spot for the locals.

Robot was Liu's very first invention, and it made him his first million 30 years ago.

Liu Hsing-chin was baptized into Christianity in the beautiful blue waters of Hawaii. (courtesy of Liu Hsing-Chin)

Liu Hsing-chin often skipped school as a kid to go play in this cave. It was his own little paradise, but unfortunately his paradise was later turned into a temple. He regrets not having bought the "paradise" before others got to it.