This year, with an intercalary fifth lunar month, Erh-lung village will burst into life twice over!

In more ways than one, the village of Erh-lung owes its existence to the Erh-lung river which flows through it.

Before the Chinese settled here, this was a plains aboriginal settlement called Ch'i-wu-lan, meaning "the place on a sandy islet." As the river silted up and the sea retreated miles to the west, another piece of land came into being farther downstream. Chinese settlers arrived here and called it Chou-tzu-wei, meaning "the tail of the little islet." Sand and mud brought down by the river gradually formed the upper and lower hamlets of Ch'i-wu-lan and Chou-tzu-wei, thus setting up the rivalry that underlies the nearly 200 year-old tradition of the Erh-lung dragon boat race.

In the early Chia-ch'ing period (A.D. 1796-1820) a group of Fukienese pioneers from Changchow and Chuan-chow, together with some Cantonese, settled on the fertile Ilan Plain under the leadership of Wu Sha. Due to its sparse population and relative isolation, excess rice production was taken to Wushih harbour at Toucheng for shipment to ports in mainland China.

Rice from Erh-lung village was also transported downriver to Wushih harbour in "red-head" boats. On the return journey these brought back stone, bricks and tiles (carried from Tangshan as ballast by ships returning empty from the mainland), which were used for building houses in the village. Today the mottled red brickwork of Erh-lung's older houses provides historical evidence of this by-gone river traffic.

Here life still goes on in a simple, unspoilt way. First thing in the morning the menfolk fetch water from the river. No wells have been sunk at the village because "Erh-lung village is the home of dragon boats, and if we bore a hole in the bottom of the boat, surely it will sink? This is why our drinking water has always come from the river." Lin Yueh-sheng (57), secretary of the Chiaohsi Rural District Office, recalls this ancestral saying. His sixth-generation ancestor Lin Ho-sheng was one of the three pioneers who first settled at Erh-lung village.

When the men have gone to work in the fields, the womenfolk squat at the riverside in two's and three's to do the family laundry. All afternoon tanned village boys duck and dive as they swim naked in the stream.

Towards nightfall, the day's work done, some villagers go fishing from the bridge for fun. Any fish too small is chucked back into the river, while any over four fingers broad makes a tasty extra dish for dinner.

The rice paddies stretching away behind the houses, like the villagers themselves, rely on irrigation from the river to grow their waving stalks of rice.

But water holds its dangers too. The Erh-lung River not only brought the village into being, it has also wiped out many lives. At least three or four people drown in the river here each year. During the heavy July and August rains the river often floods over the rice paddies, turning a season's farming work into tears literally overnight.

Torn between hopes for irrigation water and a helpless fear of flooding, the villagers of Erh-lung maintain their tradition of dragon-boat racing to ensure plentiful harvests and drive away pestilence, as well as carrying out annual sacrifices to placate the souls of those who have drowned.

In an age when dragon boat racing in Taiwan has become little more than a folk activity to highlight the Dragon Boat Festival, Erh-lung village still maintains its dragon boat race, its requiem for the drowned, and its sacrifice to the Water Spirit as integral local religious rites.

The village's dragon boats, which are considered sacred objects, are normally kept out of sight in a special boathouse. Instead of an ornately carved dragon's-head prow and stern these are ordinary "red-head" boats as used on the river, simply painted with a dragon design along the side.

A special Yin-Yang symbol on each boat's prow, stern and paddles helps to ward off evil and gives the boat magic power to banish the wicked Water Ghost. The two rival communities paint their symbols differently, the Ch'i-wu-lan boat having the Yang side uppermost while the Chou-tzu-wei boat has the Yin side uppermost.

A month before the Dragon Boat Festival the two communities decide how much to spend on the coming year's race, after which the ward chiefs get busy soliciting contributions door to door.

As the big day approaches, village sons working away from home return one by one to take part in the race. The two normally harmonious communities begin to split into two distinct camps, with schoolchildren arguing over which side will win. Villagers take care to avoid entering rival territory, especially where the dragon boats are kept. "Even the village chief has to delay public business for a few days in case he is suspected of spying for the other side," says Lin Tso, a village chief for 18 years.

At Erh-lung this year a Rural District Chief's Cup dragon boat race was held for the first time the day before Dragon Boat Festival, so as not to interfere with the village's regular celebration of the festival.

Television cameras were also on hand for the first time, and the live TV variety show put on for the event attracted large crowds from neighboring villages. By now Taiwan audiences have become inured to the strange spectacle of good-looking boys and girls dolling up the TV coverage of traditional folk festivities. Let's just hope that TV can shake off its obsession with singers and dancers and try to introduce more of the local history, scenery and cultural background into such coverage. Surely the story of Erh-lung village has as much to offer as a bevy of pop stars.

On the day of Dragon Boat Festival itself the villages carried their boats to the riverbank and fitted them out. Not many people came to help, and some young fathers played with their children inside the boats, taking photographs. Only when the master of ceremonies appeared on the scene were the children told to get off the boats. These oncesacred boats, which no woman or person in mourning was allowed to approach, now hold no awe even for little children.

Before the race actually gets under way, the boats are paddled down the village for ritual offerings to be made. This time not many households had set out tables of offerings en route, and the musicians accompanying the boat seemed to beat their gongs rather half-heartedly.

As the boats passed beneath the bridge the crews had no objection to cameramen standing above them angling for good shots. According to folk researcher Wu Ts'an-hsing, a long-time observer of the dragon boat ceremony whose grandfather came from Erh-lung, "Once the boats have been purified and the eye painted in, no one is allowed walk across the prow." Videos he has taken over the past five years show how a number of old men used to keep onlookers back as the boats passed under the bridge. Now the spectators are gone, and the old men are too worn out to care.

Things seemed to be going smoothly enough amid a pleasantly harmonious atmosphere. Suddenly one team all dressed in same blue shorts are seen turning their boat round having just lost a race, when someone with a microphone calls from the bank: "Just turn back half way, we want another shot of snatching the winning flag--this time you be the winners." It dawns on the spectators on the bank that a drama series is being filmed with the local boat races as a colorful setting.

An old fellow from Chou-tzu-wei angrily shouts across the river: "This is a traditional folk festival, outsiders aren't allowed on the boats! Who arranged for these people to take part and decide who the winners are?"

Village chief Lin Hung-chih, who gave permission for the film company to use the boat, has always been an energetic supporter of the local dragon boat race. His four brothers come back every year to take part, and there is no doubting his sincerity even though his arrangement might have caused offence. "In fact, letting the film company take advantage of the break between the end of the river procession and the start of the boat race proper did not affect the formal races at all, while introducing our local custom to the general public," suggests Wu Ts'an-hsing.

In the evening, the villagers of Erh-lung parade their hospitality and feast tables are set out at every house. The sound of drums and gongs echoes from a makeshift open-air folk opera stage, although only a handful of children loyally watch the show. A larger audience of the curious are attracted to a new electronic mobile stage nearby. Still, not to be outdone, the folk opera performers are dressed in cool clothes and sing pop songs to try to lure their audience back.

The old customs are changing, and one just wonders what the spirits in the river are making of it all.

[Picture Caption]

As the Tetzukou River management project proceeds, the green riverbanks of Ch'i-wu-lan will soon become cold concrete walls as at Chou-tzu-wei.

A small group of village children bang gongs to tell the villagers "come and row the dragon boat!"

Once brought out of its boathouse, the dragon boat acquires magic power through the rituals of dedication and painting in the dragon's eye.

Village chief Lin Hung-chih (first right) and his four brothers are fine oarsmen who have never missed a race.

The Yin-Yang emblem painted on the oars can subdue the River Spirit, and capturing the winning flag ensures peace and plentiful harvests.

Women and those in mourning used not to be permitted to approach the dragon boats. Today that taboo has gone, and even children site playfully astride the hulls.

The dragon boat procession is an important ritual aimed at placating the River Spirit so that he will do no harm and leave the community in peace.

Cold concrete flood levees cut the villagers' vital link with the river, but at the same time dispel their fears of flooding.

Such huge crowds and colorful riverside scenes as this are part of history. (photo courtesy of Wu Ts'an-hsing)

This villager with his net seems to say, "There are still plenty of fish in the river, but no one wants to eat them!"

The traditional dragon boat ceremony at Erh-lung village regularly draws a host of photographers, ethnologists and even painters.

Tradition is no match for the Present, and except for three children and the River Spirit all the villagers have been lured away by the electronic mobile stage.

A small group of village children bang gongs to tell the villagers "come and row the dragon boat!".

Once brought out of its boathouse, the dragon boat acquires magic power through the rituals of dedication and painting in the dragon's eye.

Village chief Lin Hung-chih （first right） and his four brothers are fine oarsmen who have never missed a race.

The Yin-Yang emblem painted on the oars can subdue the River Spirit, and capturing the winning flag ensures peace and plentiful harvests.

Women and those in mourning used not to be permitted to approach the dragon boats. Today that taboo has gone, and even children site playfully astride the hulls.

The dragon boat procession is an important ritual aimed at placating the River Spirit so that he will do no harm and leave the community in peace.

Cold concrete flood levees cut the villagers' vital link with the river, but at the same time dispel their fears of flooding.

Such huge crowds and colorful riverside scenes as this are part of history. （photo courtesy of Wu Ts'an-hsing）

This villager with his net seems to say, "There are still plenty of fish in the river, but no one wants to eat them!".

The traditional dragon boat ceremony at Erh-lung village regularly draws a host of photographers, ethnologists and even painters.

Tradition is no match for the Present, and except for three children and the River Spirit all the villagers have been lured away by the electronic mobile stage.