After Tomb Sweeping Festival, a spring evening, with a gently falling rain, should be a time when the families of Puli are at rest, drinking tea and chatting idly.

But in the Hsiang Yang Museum, located on Sleeping Bull Mountain on the eastern outskirts of Puli, the lamps are burning. It's not a spring dinner party; instead there are twenty or so plainly dressed people sitting in a circle engaging in a discussion, their voices steeped in the local countryside accent. They use Mandarin, Taiwanese, and Japanese interchangeably, attentively discussing the way to prosperity for local industries with the visiting Japanese scholar Miyazaki Kiyoshi.

Professor Miyazaki, currently the chairman of the Department of Industrial Design at Chiba University in Japan, originally came to Nantou County at the invitation of the Taiwan Provincial Handicraft Research Institute to be the main speaker at the "Study Camp for the Invigoration of Local Production." One night before the camp was to be held, he was firstasked by the people of Puli to come and offer advice.

When Miyazaki discovered that among his listeners, besides businessmen,there were also painters, potters, archaeologists, and field researchers, this scholar, who had already worked to guide and assist many smalltowns and rural communities in Japan to develop local industry, exclaimed that this was a rare sight indeed.

Why is Puli, buried deep in Nantou County, with a population of no morethan 80,000, so anxious to develop local industries? And what made allthose people from cultural fields pay such close attention?

Treasure trove for field research: Puli is located right where the western slopes of the Central Mountain Range abut the western plains. It is a basin surrounded by mountains on all sides. In the winter they block the northeast winds from off of the sea; in the summer they weaken the force of incoming typhoons. Thus the area is pleasant all year round.

Besides its stunning natural surroundings, Puli is also endowed with humanistic beauty. From very early on, the Shao, Taiya, Bunung, and Pingpu aboriginal nations coming down from the mountains would come here to trade, taking advantage of Puli's convenient interchange with the plains. Han Chinese who thought to move from the plains up into the mountains also settled here, using it as a base for further expansion. Even foreign missionaries, doctors, and scholars interested in the culture and fate of the mountain aborigines would all congregate in this as yet still tiny mountain town.

The thing about Puli that most attracts people is precisely this mixed, pluralistic culture. Teng Hsiang-yang, who is in the process of writing A History of the Development of puli, points out that Puli has been seen as a treasure chest by many scholars of history in Taiwan ever since the Japanese Occupation era. Even today field researchers come here in droves. The Japanese scholar Kubura Nagiko, who often comes to Puli to research the cultural artifacts of the Taiya people, indicates that in Puli you can see an aboriginal culture quite different from that of the Han Chinese people. Under the rule of the Dutch, at a time when the daughters of Chinese were still not allowed to go to school, the daughters of the Pingpu people were already studying away, and "Taiwan's first school for girls appeared right here in Puli," she says.

Unwilling to bring production: In primitive times Puli was a vast lake; later the water disappeared, leaving a basin filled with extremely rich lake-bottom soil. This made Puli into a main agricultural center in Central Taiwan, with the major claims to fame being red sugar cane and bamboo shoots. With the development of commerce and industry, because Puli is located near mountain forests, it developed special agricultural processing industries--resins, paper manufacturing, butterfly samples, and bamboo handicrafts.

These local industries certainly won renown for Puli, and earned a great deal of foreign exchange. For example, in the 1980's, 85% of the calligraphy paper was sold to Japan. And the local resin industry, second to none in Taiwan, flourished for a time in the 1970's.

Nevertheless, as Taiwan transformed into a commercial and industrial society, Puli fell into stagnation. Because Puli was only connected to the outside world through two provincial roads to Tsaotun and Shuili, itwas not easily accessible, which meant that entrepreneurs, who carefully calculated transport costs, were not willing to go in there. Under competition from without, where costs were lower, Puli's basic industries and agriculture on which its existence depended were confronted with obliteration.

You can only see roasted sugar cane by the roadside: Although the collapse of local industries and outmigration of population are common problems faced by all small towns and rural communities in Taiwan, limitations in the objective environment have meant that Puli was unlikely to be like similar locales that found a road to survival in tourism or service industries. Because of its inaccessibility, Puli was unable to attractlarge numbers of tourists. For a long time, tour buses entering Puli were just passing through on their way to someplace else, if not Sun Moon Lake then Yushe or Lu Mountain. Very few had Puli itself as their destination. Even the many recreational areas which have recently sprung up around the Tsaotun to Taichung road have pulled up short of Puli--ShuangTung Park, Tutu Playground, Peak 99 Recreational Area, and the Taiya Vacation Village are all located within Tsaotun.

In fact, even when the roadsides of most provincial routes have become lined with huge Karaoke Television parlors, coffee shops, and Western style restaurants, scenes easily visible in towns large and small across Taiwan, you could only see a few small stands selling bamboo shoots or red sugar cane on the sides of Puli streets.

Under these conditions, it is no wonder the local people came to feel it was urgent to pursue a reinvigoration of industry.

The last piece of "Pure Land" in the western plain: Nevertheless, there is silver lining to every cloud. Lacking the conditions for industrial development, it seemed that Puli's "march to prosperity" was slowed to a hobble. But just because of this it has been able to avoid the air pollution, propagation of sex industries, and interpersonal alienation characteristic of overdevelopment.

"Puli only has three smokestacks--a brick factory, an alcohol factory, and the Taiwan Sugar food processing plant," says Liang Kun-ming, a painter and lifelong resident. Thus the skies and clean, verdant mountains of Puli often find their way into his paintings.

Puli is also renowned for the quality of its water, which has maintained its purity and sweetness given that there are no factories dumping wastes into it. Water drawn directly from the ground is both safe and healthy; its pH level is, according to tests, right about seven (the mid-point on the pH scale), similar to treated tap water; many Puli residents still drink ground water to this day.

"The air is good, the water is clean--it doesn't even leave a mark when you spray it on flowers," says Fang Chin-tsai, director of the China Agricultural Association. He doesn't have to clean the planters he plants in, saving a lot of manpower.

Add, to this the fact that most residents of Puli are still farmers, and everywhere there are fields and trees, and the quality of life in Puli is at a level other towns can't match.

"It's like sleeping next to an oxygen tent," says Hsieh Chao-cheng, director of operations for the Puli Food Products Division of the Taiwan Sugar Corporation, who has three times passed up transfers to the Taipei headquarters because of the high quality of life in Puli. He says that he is remaining in Puli to become a "mountain deity," "because the character for 'mountain deity' is composed of the characters for 'person' and for 'mountain,' so this means you have to live in the mountains to be able to achieve longevity."

There's no money in tea houses: The atmosphere of ancient times lingering in the old town and the richness of interpersonal feeling make thecity dweller yearn even more for this place.

"When you go to Puli you can just step right up and ask your friends for a place to spend the night--there's no need for holding back," says Kubura Nagiko. Still not divorced from the rural pace of getting up and going to work at sunrise and resting at sundown, this lifestyle readily takes the pressure off of those Taipei-frazzled nerves. She thus sees Puli as "a place to fill up on vitality."

The local customs are simple and there is little luxury. "You can't make money from Puli people by running teahouses or movie houses," says Chen Fang-tsu, owner of the Chi-chiao-wu restaurant. Puli people all have tea services in their homes, and at night the family and neighbors are in the habit of making tea and chatting together. Recently, karaoke has been all the rage; although Puli has also been drawn in, homebody Puli residents would rather buy a sing-a-long set and amuse themselves at home. Most of the residences in Puli are independent structures and spacious, and there is little fear of disturbing others.

There are few people in Puli, and little traffic, so there are no traffic jams. "If you suddenly feel like getting some friends together, just pick up the phone and in ten minutes you can have thirty or forty people there," explains Chen Ming-hsun, secretary general of the Nantou County Assembly.

Besides all this, Puli also has a resource very rarely found in other rural communities--the arts.

A painting exhibition is just like a temple festival: Puli is the hometown of Lin Juei, a famous sculptor of stone.

The "Mei Stream Arts Society," organized by twelve local Puli painters including Liang Kun-ming and I-yong Hung, has continually held individual and group exhibitions since being established fifteen years ago, and has earned quite a fine reputation in the arts community.

They are even more devoted to arts education and to promoting the establishment of arts groups. There are already five painting societies in Puli. Besides the Mei Stream group, there is the "Shuishalien Workshop"organized by homemakers, the "Shan Ya Painting Society" organized by silver-haired retirees, as well as "Arts Roots" and the "Greater Puli Arts Workshop." "There are an exceptionally large number of people in 'unusual occupations' in Puli," says Liang Kun-ming with an amused tone. Life here moves slow, and besides working, most leisure time is invested in the arts. Moreover, over a long period of time one's hobby can turn into one's profession.

Take former doctor Teng Hsiang-yang, founder of the Hsiang Yang museum, who is now devoted to researching aboriginal culture. Teapot craftsman Hsiao Tung changed professions from veterinary medicine. And Wang Tsu-hwa, who used to be in the food and beverage business, was "trapped" by friends into taking up creative pottery . . . .

It's become very trendy, and, even though there are few places in Puli to hold arts activities--there is only one civic center--holding an exhibit is like holding a temple festival, and "as soon as the announcement is made over the town hall public address system, people come streaming in from all around to admire the works," says sculptor Teng Jen-kuei. Teng has high praise for the active participation of Puli people in local arts activities.

"If a local artist goes elsewhere to have an exhibit, neighbors, friends, and family will rent a chartered tour bus to be on the scene," says Wang Tsu-hwa.

Art town: The beauty of the landscape and the flourishing of the art shave attracted many artistic and cultural personages to Puli, buried deep in the heart of Taiwan. The late painter Hsi Teh-chin spent many days in Puli drawing from nature. Liu Huan-yueh, editor-in-chief at Tai Yuan Publishers, who specializes in field research into the popular customs of Taiwan, has been going back and forth collecting data on the Pingpu people for a decade.

Local watercolor painter I-yung Hong has become famous with his artists' "sign-in" books. Hong's father had managed an inn, and after going out of business, he had more than 400 heavy blankets, so his home became a frequent place to "crash out" for artists coming to Puli. Hong rigidly requires that guests leave remarks, and sign their names; in the past ten-plus years he has accumulated six thick souvenir albums.

Many artists, enamored of Puli's mountains and waters, go from being "passers-through" to being residents who "come home" to Puli. Take for example the sculptor Yang Ying-feng, who set up a studio in Puli nine years ago. Sculptor Chu Ming, painter Yang Yuan-tai, and the former National Palace Museum Assistant Director Chiang Chao-shen have all followed suit. Three years ago, Taipei artists Kao Hsin-chiang, Tsai Jung-you, Cheng Ching-jung, and nine other creative workers came together in this place, planning to map out and make Puli into an "arts village."

Another household of "new Pulians" is that of former Taipei magazine photographer Liao Chia-chan and his wife Yen Hsin-chu, as well as his younger brother Liao Tsun-jen. They came to Puli a year or so ago, and felt the "sensation" of the local aboriginal arts and the "special people" there, and decided to make a record of what was happening in Puli through literary reports and videotapes.

Whoever comes here is a Pulian: The entree of these new neighbors was in fact deliberately encouraged by the art-loving people of Puli.

Seven years ago, Teng Jen-kuei moved his whole family to Puli to study under the sculptor Yang Ying-feng. Four years later, he finished his training. Originally he intended to go further south to develop, "but I was held back by the warmth and intensity of my Puli friends," he says. His 1000-plus p'ing studio was only finished with the financial and physical help of Puli friends.

"In order to keep artists around, landlords in Puli will take the first step and lower land prices," says Teng Hsiang-yang, who often helps artists buy land to set up studios. Teng Jen-kuei and another potter Hsiao Chin-hsing both came to Puli through this relationship.

Fang Chin-tsai, owner of Chunghua Horticulture, who came to Puli in 1972 to develop the flower-growing business, also deeply understands this point.

At that time, Fang Chin-tsai and a few friends from the Pingtung College of Agriculture, saw that Puli had a stable climate, and was located in the mountains, so that in a drive of half an hour you could go from 500meters above sea level to 1000 or 2000 meters. These conditions were excellent for planting a variety of flowers, so they brought the horticulture business to Puli. Thereafter, local Puli people saw the benefits and began learning the methods, jumping in in large numbers.

Not only did the local and "outsider" flower farms not destroy each other in competition, on the contrary--upon discovering that the domestic cut flowers sales system was a wreck and exploitation by middlemen was severe, they organized the "Horticulture Cooperative Association" and worked together to sell and to set quotas to adapt to production and harvest cycles. "In this way, the average income of the flower farmers rose about 20% or so," points out Fang Chin-tsai.

Expectations but fear of getting hurt: It's unique natural and human resources have given Puli its special local characteristics, and have thus attracted a lot of attention. But, looking at Puli's development situation, local people feel a contradiction.

The planned Chinan University has become a focal point of local discussion. And in the process, it has stimulated reflection about Puli's future development direction.

When it was first rumored that Chinan University might be set up in Pull, the local people, paying out of their own pockets, asked an engineering consulting firm to do a regional environmental survey, which they provided to the local officials as reference, in hopes of getting a lock on constructing the school in Puli. Because of Puli's moderate climate, scenic beauty, and clean environment, plus the fact that the size of land being offered by Taiwan Sugar was appropriate, the Chinan Planning Committee chose Puli out of 20 different sites from all over Taiwan.

But, as the saying goes, "you should be careful what you ask for--you may get it."

One-eighth impact: The painter Wang Hao argues that Puli's total population is less than 80,000, and Chinan anticipates recruiting 10,000 students, taking the ratio all the way up to one-eighth. These outsiders would definitely have an impact on Puli.

The residents of the small mountain town are worried that these students--most of whom will be overseas Chinese--will have different customs from the local people, and what about language problems? It's true that the cultural atmosphere and job opportunities the university will bring are attractive. However, the consumer trends which a large group of young people might bring--like karaoke, MTV, and discos--might change the simple local habits. Moreover, because of the establishment of Chinan University in Puli, land speculators have already turned their attention to the town.

"Will we be able to avoid the universal model of local development in Taiwan? Towns and rural communities are either chasing wealth or sealing themselves off." That's the very question that caused Teng Hsiang-yang to hold this seminar on development of local industries.

Is there a third alternative?

Unity of culture and industry: Few travellers who cross over into Puli from Taichung and Tsaotun will miss going to the "Niuer Sculpture Garden." This first ever fine arts garden in Taiwan mainly displays the work of the local stone sculptor Lin Yuan.

Heavy, rough-hewn stone carvings are placed not in glass cases but out on the grass or under trees, and children can go and run their hands allover them as much as they like.

Walking past one bamboo cottage after another, you can see the manufacturing process of hand-made paper, honey, pollen, camphor oil, and other special local products.

Although this park has no ear-splitting rides, it has drawn 150,000 visitors per year since opening four years ago. "I think it shows the spirit and rhythm of life of the agricultural society of an earlier day," says Sculpture Garden chairman Huang Ping-sung, taking off his jacket and sitting in a cart with his visitor. "Last spring we held a breakfast underneath that tung oil tree. The white, fragrant flowers were continually drifting down on the wind, covering the ground all around us. Truly sensational."

The Niuer Sculpture Garden is a new model for bringing together local culture and local industry in Puli. This is exactly what Puli people are hoping for.

In discussions about Chinan University, Puli people would say that thisis not necessarily a serious worry.

Puli mayor Tsai Ho-hsien believes that the economic development brought by this external stimulus will have positive effects like drawing population back to Puli, which could outweigh the negative. Further, Puli residents can go over to the attack themselves. Painter I-yung Hung suggests that Chinan set up a curriculum in native arts, and give support to Puli's human and local resources at regular intervals. Many Puli people are willing to provide housing to students to invite the students to enter with them into "Puli culture."

Do it and see: Pulians, who are used to seeing arts of all kinds coming and going, in fact are not afraid of outsiders.

"In the past a group of students from fine arts departments came to Puli to see Lin Yuan. Lin said to them, 'Do you bookworms dare to live as I am living? Do you dare? Come and do it and see what it's like!'" Hung Ping Sung, who is also the founder of Hometown Feelings magazine, says in Taiwanese, "In Puli we have land, and talented people, so everybody come and have a look!"

The beautiful mountains and rivers and the confident people of Puli are the resources on which Puli can rely as it takes its next step.

[Picture Caption]

Famous Puli hand-made paper faces the problems of a shortage of labor and rising costs, and the amount produced has declined year by year.

Sweet, juicy red sugar cane is still a major agricultural product in Puli.

Because the climate is moderate and the altitude just right, horticulture has become a newly rising industry in Puli.

The priority for Puli's horticulture is the planting of foreign flower seeds.

Teng Jen-kuei (right) often looks out over the mountains and clouds from his studio's panoramic view in order to understand how to put his carving technique to use.

Drinking tea and conversation are the after-dinner recreation for residents of Puli.
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 Hard-to-come-by scenes of cattle doing their business. (Right) Enlargement of a print by Liang Kun-ming.

Puli cannot avoid the changes brought by modern construction.

With Puli's weak winds and empty roads villagers become quite adept at holding an umbrella while riding a bike.

Half of Ta-tieh Street, an avenue with a long history, has been torn down to widen the road.

Blessed with rich and prosperous land, how to move towards wealth while preserving its pure original face is the challenge now facing Puli.

Famous Puli hand-made paper faces the problems of a shortage of labor and rising costs, and the amount produced has declined year by year.

Sweet, juicy red sugar cane is still a major agricultural product in Puli.

Because the climate is moderate and the altitude just right, horticulture has become a newly rising industry in Puli.

The priority for Puli's horticulture is the planting of foreign flower seeds.

Teng Jen-kuei （right） often looks out over the mountains and clouds from his studio's panoramic view in order to understand how to put his carving technique to use.

Drinking tea and conversation are the after-dinner recreation for residents of Puli.

Hard-to-come-by scenes of cattle doing their business. （Right） Enlargement of a print by Liang Kun-ming.

Puli cannot avoid the changes brought by modern construction.

With Puli's weak winds and empty roads villagers become quite adept at holding an umbrella while riding a bike.

Half of Ta-tieh Street, an avenue with a long history, has been torn down to widen the road.

Blessed with rich and prosperous land, how to move towards wealth while preserving its pure original face is the challenge now facing Puli.