Treasure in a time capsule
So as to unearth stories that are "simple and true," Peng Yaling has, in addition to conducting oral history fieldwork, also set herself up in various fixed locations in Taiwan, where she has invited old people to put memorabilia related to unforgettable experiences of their own lives into time capsules. The goal is to preserve some special memories of their eras in these wooden boxes.
In a remote village in Chiayi, Peng is preparing to interview a 70-year-old man, but neighbors crowd around to say: "He's a lonely old man; he doesn't have any stories!"
This old man was a laborer his whole life. When he was young he had to carry more than 7000 bricks to earn just NT$12 a month. In that same era, Peng's mother earned NT$600 a month as a nurse. Everyone thought that the old man "ought to be forgotten," but tears came to Peng's eyes when he pulled out his son's wedding photograph: someone that everyone regarded as a lonely old man was the patriarch of a family of 50.
Peng also discovered that for the elderly who came from the mainland, the most unforgettable life experiences were those involving war and escape. Take, for instance, the story of Mei Lizhi.
When he was ten years old, the village chief gathered everyone together and issued papers on which was written "refugee so-and-so, from Tuanshan Township, Xuancheng County." Everyone was supposed to pin them on the clothing over their chests and leave. Amid the confusion, Mei Lizhi's father walked first, with a supply of rice tied to one end of his carrying pole and quilts on the other. Next came Mei's mother, who had clothing on one end of her pole and pots and pans on the other. Then came little Lizhi himself, carrying a chicken, and finally his little sister, who clutched a doll. When they reached the river, it was already dark, and there were only two places on the last boat crossing. Their father was insistent that Lizhi and his mother take the seats, but they refused. Finally, their father decided to enter the water holding his little sister, while clutching onto one of the boat's ropes. It was very dark, there was a strong wind, and the river water was very rapid. It was more turbulent than expected out in the middle of the river. To make certain that his father was maintaining his strength, his mother repeatedly called to him and he replied. It went on like that back and forth until they got to the middle of the river and his father's voice disappeared in the wind.
Peng Yaling laments that over the course of 70 or 80 years each of these old men and women who had experienced war adopted a common survival strategy of forgetting what had pained them. Some people trembled as they exposed their experiences of humiliation or imprisonment during the era of "white terror." Unable to bear the psychological and spiritual pressure, some announced that they were leaving and then "disappeared," no longer willing to accept interviews. Others, because their family members had told them "not to bring all that up," kept their mouths closed. Peng found it hard to conceal her regret about the uncompleted time capsules, and she felt worse about the seniors who had buried painful memories deep in their minds and were unable to talk about them and thereby release the pain.
After the time capsules were completed, Peng brought some of the old folks to schools and cultural centers for exhibitions and talks. When these regular people suddenly became sought after for interviews and important focuses of students' school work, they lit up.
After the major earthquake of September 21, 1999, Peng spent eight months in the temporary housing set up for quake victims, listening to the stories of old people who, despite the sad and fearful atmosphere in Taiwan back then, would nonetheless pass their days chatting and laughing and not lose themselves in self-pity and regret. Social workers calling in on them were moved to tears.
Yet Peng discovered that these optimistic grandmothers would nonetheless cry and shout out in their sleep. It turns out that they were women who would make jokes while suffering greatly.
On one occasion, when a time capsule performance was being given at an elementary school in Taipei, one of the children said, "The house collapsed and Grandmother died...." Most everyone thought he was making up a story, but his homeroom teacher began to sob. It turned out that the boy was originally from the earthquake zone and had refused to speak to his classmates before. The treasure box unlocked his memories, and comforted his hurts.
Not your typical theater company, Uhan Shii presents stories from the lives of Taiwan's older generation. Peng Yaling collects stories from the elderly and turns them into moving stage performances. In the process she changes the lives of many of her performers.
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