Adjusting the pace
"The village relocation policy currently being implemented by the government operates on two key principles," says Huang Jung-te, who has been head of the Construction Section of Nantou County Government's Bureau of Aboriginal Affairs since 2002. "The first is, 'give money but don't be responsible for the construction of homes.' The second is, 'handle the acquisition of land and homes through market mechanisms.' But this approach to assistance has proved difficult with indigenous peoples."
Building a home takes money. In urbanized areas, people must usually use land or another building as collateral when applying for a loan. But banks won't accept the mountainous lands on which indigenous peoples typically live as security on a loan, and locals have nothing else to offer. "In addition, the current rules on housing assistance funds require that new homes must have been completed and passed an inspection before assistance funds can be disbursed," explains Huang. "If you have no money of your own, you can't build a home, and therefore can't apply for assistance funds."
Once the foundation became involved, the funding deficit was resolved and contracts were signed. Housing reconstruction officially began at the end of 2005. The project has not been cheap. Given the NT$180 million outlay for the housing project, the NT$200 million cost of the infrastructure work, and the additional future costs for road work, more than NT$2.5 million is being spent on each of the 139 families that is moving. "There's no denying this is an expensive investment," says Hsieh.
"Fairness dictates that we can't give them additional assistance because Han families that suffered as much from the disaster aren't getting any," says Hsieh. "However, if you recall that NT$30 million won't build even half a bridge in the mountains, but can provide 139 Aboriginal families with homes, the amount starts looking more reasonable."
Building on this idea, the villagers, the township administration, the county government and the CIP gained new momentum and were ultimately able to hold last December's groundbreaking ceremony.
After the excitement of the ceremony passed, life in the old village returned to normal. In contrast, the site of the new village began to bubble with activity as building supplies came pouring in.
Construction is expected to be completed by April. The walls of the new homes, which will be Western-style single-family and semi-detached houses, will be made with locally sourced materials, primarily wood and bamboo. The use of angled roofs and diamond-shaped designs basic to Atayal arts will give them a strongly indigenous feel.
The new village is three kilometers from the old, so the casual work in the nearby orchards and fields which is the villagers' economic lifeblood should be largely unaffected. As for the village's viability, in addition to the infrastructure that has already been completed, the construction of a large dual-use residential-commercial building for residents who previously owned shops should ensure commerce also continues.
Right now, the only signs of life in the still officially unfinished new village are the sounds of recitations and laughter from the children at the school.
Fahsiang Elementary School, Juiyen's most advanced educational institution, was moved to the new village in November 2004. Portraits of hunters with bows and arrows hang from walls decorated with traditional Atayal rhomboid patterns.
The three-kilometer stretch of road separating the old village from the new is steep and crosses a stream. For adults with their own vehicles, it poses no problems, but parents were worried about children walking it to get to school. When the school was relocated, the staff worked with the parents' association to arrange for a nine-seater van to shuttle the children to school every day.
"Life will be easier for everyone once the whole village moves over by the end of the year," says Chen Li-chun, who teaches at the school.
Though Chen is one of the few residents who isn't moving, her work places her squarely at the forefront of the effort to preserve the village's social and cultural cohesiveness after the move. Singing softly, she leads the children through the weaving song left to them by their ancestors. "We just learned this song from the village elders," she explains.
Lin Te-chuan, who has long been a leader in the village's search for its roots, hopes that the villagers will be able to recover their gaga--their traditional social mores and their relationship to the natural world--in the new village.
"For a place like Juiyen, which is almost entirely Atayal, the gaga code is probably a good starting point," says Chen Mau-thai, a research fellow in the Academia Sinica's Institute of Ethnology. "Gaga represents the village's collective wisdom. It is especially important when facing a major change, such as a relocation. Ultimately, relocating isn't just about people and goods. It also involves moving the culture, the village social structure, and the social bonds."
Initial work on the new Juiyen, which is to be located on a ten-hectare site on the terraced bank of the Peikang River, was completed some time ago. The building in the lower right of the photo is the long-since-completed village administration building.