Emigrating... Without Leaving Home
Chang Chiung-fang / photos Hsueh Chi-kuang / tr. by Phil Newell
July 2001
Emigration is nothing new; people are doing it all the time. Yet it is unlikely that those who haven't taken that step can know how hard it really is to face a language gap, cultural differences, and life in another land.
But if you are not satisfied with your environment, or are tired of stressed-out city life, what else can you do besides emigrate?
There are those who want to "emigrate" without leaving their homeland, so they search far and wide through Taiwan for their ideal living environment. They believe that if they just have the courage to change, Taiwan will turn out to still have some pure land where they can finally put up their feet and feel at home.
You can find them in remote Taitung, in the "back garden" of Hualien, in Kuanyin Rural Township in Taoyuan, in the Hakka village of Peipu in Hsinchu. They are the "immigrants" who come in search of a proverbial unspoiled land, the modern equivalent of a Garden of Eden or a Peach Blossom Paradise. In Hsinchu for example, a decade or so ago about 20,000 people moved in both directions-into and out of Hsinchu-each year. But in the last few years the influx has been ahead of the outflow. There are things in the stories of these seekers for the rest of us as well. Read on, and you will feel inspired, enlightened, and even empowered.

Dr. Teng Ko-chung, who recently left Taipei to start a practice in the small town of Tulan in Taitung, which could be seen as a gift to a place which had no doctors before, says that he has gotten much more out of the experience than he has given.
Homesteading
"A house with all the joys of a garden; a bridge points the way to the visitor." This is a couplet on the door of a house, written by the owner himself, Tu Chien-fang, who now lives in Luyeh, Taitung County. Tu has already invested more than ten years of his life in this residential compound, and it is where he expects to stay for the rest of his days.
When you pass through the gate and look around, besides the flowers, grass, fruit trees, and evergreens on all sides, you see not an ugly apartment block, or tacky self-styled "villa," but several interesting buildings, each unique, designed in a traditional fashion. This is the home that the forty-eight-year-old Tu, along with his wife and two sons, built with their own hands.
In the Jenkuang Community in Chi'an Rural Township, Hualien County, lies the house renovated by Fang Chu and Chang Tsai-yun, both in their 30s, according to their own ideal of what a "home" should be.
Why move to Hualien? "Because western Taiwan has already fallen to the enemy!" says Chang, revealing in a sentence the deepest feelings of many in-country migrants.
"It's been no easy task searching for a suitable place to live, and we eventually had to make the leap all the way from western Taiwan to Hualien here in the eastern part," says Chang. They lived in Lukang before, but when that place started to become affected by industrial pollution, they moved to Meilun in Hualien, where they rented a house. But it was impossible for them to put all their ideas about home, environment, and life into practice in a rented house, so, when they finally found a living environment in Chi'an Rural Township that really excited them, they began their own "homemakers' movement."

Walking on a country road, with mountains, streams, and crops growing in the fields, is still a heart-warming experience for Ah Wei, who moved to Peipu seven years ago. He has invested much of himself in this community.
This is where I belong
Some people find a place to settle down only after a quest of epic difficulty. But others, like the fisherman in the Jin dynasty who stumbled into the Peach Blossom Paradise and forgot to go back, have found the land of their dreams by accident, and stay because they are so happy.
In 1993, Ah Wei came to Peipu to do research with a professor of architecture. When the study was completed, Ah Wei, who grew up in the city, stayed behind to look further into some things of personal interest and to get a better understanding of the situation in a Hakka village. Seven years have gone by and he is still there.
In 1989, Ah Wei had just returned to Taipei from the US, and every night he stayed out partying until 2 a.m. When he first got to bucolic Peipu, it was a real adjustment. In contrast to fast-track Taipei, Peipu is a slow and quiet place. "When the TV soaps finish at nine, the whole village goes dark." Ah Wei, who did not have a friend or even an acquaintance in the place, felt as if the world had dropped him off and forgotten all about him. So every night at nine or ten he would call up friends, or take an aimless cruise around the village on his bicycle.
"Then, one night eight months later, about 11:00 or so, with the full moon shining, I was riding around as usual on my bike when I suddenly realized that I knew this place. I knew where there would be dogs, where you could always smell incense. . . and then in that instant I knew that my heart belonged to Peipu," reminisces Ah Wei.

Are you tired? Are you looking for a place to settle down? The road to the countryside is a test of your courage and your desire.
You can breathe
Chen Li-yun graduated from the China Medical College in 1984 and came to the Mennonite Christian Hospital in Hualien for her internship. Little did she expect that she would form an unbreakable connection with this place. Chen now has a practice in Hualien, specializing in pediatric cardiology. She says that it was the environment that attracted her to stay. "Here there is sunshine, mountains, and ocean, and you also have the right not to be busy. After the stress of western Taiwan, I felt that I could finally breathe," she explains.
A similar thing happened to Tainan native Chou Tien-hung. He first came to Hualien ten years ago to be a substitute teacher, and the environment and friendliness of the local people made a deep impression on him. Later he went abroad to study, and, after returning, went to work in the Industrial Technology Research Institute. Seven years ago, he heard that they were looking for people to work at the Mennonite Hospital, and he boldly recommended himself for a job. He is now special assistant to the chief administrator as well as being director of the Department of Hospital Administration.
Chou Tien-hung and Chou Chih-fen met and fell in love in college, and with Tien-hung unable to bear the thought of leaving Hualien, Chih-fen had little choice but to move there if she wanted to marry him. Now they are both so attached to this place that their two sons have names that are allusions to historical terms for the Hualien area.
Chou Chih-fen says that she never expected that she would settle down in Hualien. The first problem she faced was that there was not much in the way of public transportation, so she had to learn to ride a scooter and drive a car. Several years later, Chou is completely adjusted to life here, saying only, "From time to time I miss the department stores in Taipei."

For Andrea Tognocchi and Jenny Hu, husband and wife, coming to Taitung was a "beautiful accident." From the hammock in the courtyard of their home they can see Green Island. Life here is relaxing and satisfying.
Taiwan Provence
Long-term "immigrants" eventually become "locals" with stable careers. But before they can get to that point, new arrivals have to face a period of settling in, which may require extra effort and commitment.
Jenny Hu, now in her 40s, and her husband Andrea Tognocchi are both followers of Osho, a religious philosopher. They married five years ago, and both worked in Taipei. Two years ago, they came to Taitung to visit a friend. Andrea, who hails from Italy, fell in love with Taitung at first sight. "It's like the Cote d'Azur of Provence in France." So husband and wife, without giving themselves the chance to think too much about it, migrated here from Taipei.
It is true that Taitung lacks the beautiful homes and attractive young Frenchmen and women of Provence. But, avers Andrea, Provence is too crowded and too made over by human hands, whereas Taitung is more natural.
Forty-two-year-old Teng Ko-chung, who worked for over a decade in several of the better-known hospitals in Taipei, felt at a certain point that he had enough medical experience, and it was time to go to the countryside and do something for the people. Because there are already sufficient medical resources in his hometown of Neipu in Pingtung, he decided to set up a practice in Tulan, 14 kilometers outside of Taitung City.
Teng says that local people used to have to go to Taitung City just to get treated for the flu, leaving early in the morning and not getting back until afternoon. It was especially hard for older people, who make up a big part of the population here. Local people were delighted when he opened a practice in their town, and some even wept with gratitude.
Says Teng: "I love the environment here, with mountains and ocean. And it's so peaceful. It's what I've always wanted."

Cheng Chiu-hsuan, a factory manager who relocated to Kuanyin Rural Township in Taoyuan, no longer wastes his time guzzling booze and socializing with his business "buddies." He now is more concerned with the community, and also has time to do creative things for himself.
A world fit for man once again
Most people decide to move to a place because they like the environment. But there are also many cases of people "falling in love after tying the knot"-moving to a place before they realize it is exactly right for them.
Cheng Chiu-hsuan, in his 40s, works in the velcro industry. In 1990s, in response to a request from his main client, he relocated to Kuanyin Rural Township in Taoyuan County. Leaving behind the crowded and narrow streets of the Wanhua district of Taipei for the warm and friendly people of the countryside, Cheng was struck with the sense of having "discovered the value of life." He has been there for about ten years now. He has long thought of himself as a Kuanyin resident, and he tells his children that "we are Kuanyin-ites."
Ah Wei, who came to Peipu by chance, compares himself to characters from The Unbearable Lightness of Being. He used to be like Sabina, floating from place to place, but became like Tomas, who, though at times indecisive, finally found a center for his life.
The woman who owns the iced fruit shop across the street from Ah Wei says, "He really knows how to get things done." He successfully applied for funding from the Council for Cultural Affairs and the Construction and Planning Administration of the Ministry of the Interior so that the pipes and wires along Lower Street, which runs in front of his house, could be put underground, and the street paved with flagstones.
"Some people say I have given something to Peipu, but I feel Peipu has given me even more," says Ah Wei. Besides the care shown to this "outsider" by locals, life in Peipu has also been an opportunity to learn, relax, and think.
Ah Wei, who lived in the US for 11 years, describes relations in Taiwan between people and people on one hand, and people and the environment on the other, as "brutish." But in Peipu he has found refinement, and a more human lifestyle. "This is a very civilized place," he says. "Though people here are not highly educated, they are warm and caring."
Ah Wei lived in Kaohsiung for the first 18 years of his life, but to call Kaohsiung his "hometown" would be "stretching a point," he says. The places once familiar to him have all changed, and he feels no sentimental attachment anymore. He concludes, "You have to give something of yourself to a place to have strong feelings for it." Though he is not certain that he will reside in Peipu all his days, it is already an inextricable part of his life.

The blue skies, aquamarine sea, sunshine, and beaches of Taitung call to mind Provence in France. If you want to "emigrate" or go on vacation, you needn't leave Taiwan.
A place to build a dream on
Taitung, with an area of 3500 square kilometers, has a population of only 240,000, for an average of 70 or so per square kilometer. That's not very many compared to more than 9700 in Taipei.
Andrea Tognocchi, a sculptor in marble who needs free time to create, says: "Taipei is very intense, whereas in Taitung you have more time to do the things you want to do."
Fortunately, he and Jenny Hu have found a great house in Tulan, which sits on a bluff overlooking the ocean. The view is fabulous. "In the morning you can see Green Island from our window, and when the weather is just right you can even clearly make out the houses there," relates Hu.
After moving here, they also rented a bit of beachfront property next to a beach recreation area, where they put up a structure with their own hands and opened a restaurant.
The two of them did everything themselves, from designing the restaurant to clearing the land to laying the foundation to building the building. It took them ten months, but they now have a beautiful bistro with a decidedly Mediterranean ambience. For this couple, making this restaurant from scratch is part of doing something creative with their lives. "We are people building a dream!" says Hu.
"The quality of life in Hualien is something that money just can't buy," says Chou Tien-hung. There's never any problem finding a parking place; there is plenty of room and clean air; you can see the mountains at home and the ocean from your office; it takes only ten minutes to drive to work; and on holidays you can get to places like Taroko Gorge, the beach, and Lake Liyu in 30 minutes.
Chou tells us that the Mennonite Christian Hospital plays up Hualien's living environment to the max when recruiting people. It's one of their most powerful carrots.
In fact, "outsiders" make up a growing part of the population in Hualien, where, because of outmigration by locals, overall population is actually falling. Chou says the between one-third and one-half of all hospital staff were born outside the county, and in his department, only one of seven employees hails from Hualien.

Chen Li-yun, who calls herself a "busybody," has taken Hualien as a stage where she can employ her abilities to the full. She is especially active in community work. Though she also has a medical practice and kids to look after, she feels "very free" in her own mind.
Not as hard as it looks
The biggest worry for "immigrants" is: How am I am going to make a living?
In fact, many say, "There aren't nearly as many problems as you might imagine."
This is because some people stop working altogether and follow a different path, others forsake fame and fortune and happily do less profitable jobs, and others bring skills with them that they can transplant to their new localities.
Take for example the restaurant opened by Jenny Hu and her busband, which skeptics said would close in three months. Because of its authentic cuisine, it is already getting well-known in the area, and quite a number of visitors to Taitung make a point of going there for Italian food. Hu says that in the nine months since the restaurant opened business been good enough to keep them from running at a loss, not to mention the accomplishment of their building standing up to the test of Typhoon Bilis.
Best of all, even just going to work is a joy. "The stretch of coast from Little Yehliu to Tungho is the most beautiful in all of Taiwan," claims Hu. Every day as they travel from home to the restaurant, the magnificent view of the vast ocean gives her renewed vitality and hope.
What about after work? "I lie in the hammock in the courtyard, light up a cigarette, gaze at the moon and stars, play with the dog. . . . My life is very satisfying, and I have no extravagant desires," says Hu.
When Dr. Teng first got to the village of Tulan, in order to accommodate the hours kept by local folks he started opening for business at 7:30 a.m. "A lot of old people living in the mountains come down to see the doctor first thing in the morning, because they are afraid of the snakes at night. Others come early because they still have to work the fields in the morning." Teng goes jogging between five and six every night. "Every day I go to 'Uphill Stream' [where the water, owing to a quirk of topography, seems to flow uphill], following the road along the sea coast. It's really exhilarating."
A month after opening his practice, Teng calculated that he averaged 42 patients a day, far behind the 200-300 on a typical day in Taipei. Though his income was off by more than NT$100,000 per month, he is happy: "Incomes are lower, but the cost of living is lower too." He adds: "Here, the patients often take care of me! People bring me lobsters and other food all the time." His main ambition now is to buy a piece of land in Taitung and build a house where he can pass his days in tranquility.

In Peipu, kids can run around in the grass and play. How many city kids can do that?
Defending their homes
Not only do immigrants fit in to local society, but some feel a deep responsibility to defend their new homelands.
Take Hualien for example. While the environment is certainly lovely, newcomers often find that there are also many problems. Chen Li-yun points out that Hualien has a high divorce rate, serious child prostitution, widespread juvenile delinquency, outbound relocation by the middle generation (often leaving children in the care of their grandparents), a poor employment structure, and the highest incidence of domestic violence in Taiwan. And while there has been lots of hoopla about getting companies to relocate to eastern Taiwan, only one major firm has done so.
"If everyone wants to stay in Hualien, then they have to get involved and solve problems," says Chen, who thinks that the root of the problems and also the key to their solutions lie in the community. Six years ago, she and several like-minded friends established the Hsinhsiang Community Interaction Association. Though her medical practice, her own children, and her community activism keep her very busy, she says, "I feel very free." Her greatest hope is that in the future she can reduce the time she spends on her medical practice and devote more time to community work.
"We came to eastern Taiwan seeking a Peach Blossom Paradise, but were startled to find out that local people don't treasure what they have here, and they think we are nuts," says Chang Tsai-yun. When the Hoping Cement factory began to be built in Hualien five years ago, she notes, more than 90% of the people who protested against it were "immigrants," whereas the locals were not nearly so up in arms about the whole thing. While that protest failed, Chang believes the seeds were planted for Hualien folk to defend their own homes in the future.
Cheng Chiu-hsuan, who now considers Kuanyin his hometown, says that, having been warmly looked after by local neighbors, he felt that he should give something back to the community. Six years ago he joined the Kuanyin Cultural Work Front. He entrusted his business to his wife, and began to devote most of his time and energy to community work, local culture, and environmental protection. Besides being the editor-in-chief of the local Kuanyin Magazine, he periodically sponsors community activities and does all he can for the locality.
A stage to bring out potential
Besides enjoying an environment that urban dwellers can only dream about, leaving behind the city and its crowds of highly skilled people has yielded an unexpected bonus for immigrants to the countryside. Chou Tien-hung notes that in Taipei there are many skilled people, and a refined division of labor, so each person can only explore his or her own specialization. But in Hualien there are many more opportunities to learn and come into contact with new things. Chou has learned about fund-raising, hosting a radio show, and public relations, and is even director of the Hsinhsiang Community Interaction Association. "Now when would I ever get to be a director of anything in Taipei!?"
"By nature I am a busybody, and have little need for material comforts, so Hualien is an excellent stage," is how Chen Li-yun puts it. Some people have found a stage on which they can display existing talents, while others have discovered previously untapped potential.
Cheng Chiu-hsuan says that with his "everybody is my buddy" personality, he could easily drown in Taipei. "In the past if my wife saw me at home by 3:00 am, that was pretty good." In Taipei he lived a hectic, decadent life. But now he has settled down, and besides engaging in community work he also writes poetry and novels and draws comics. Even his wife, to whom he has been married for many years, is amazed: "Where did you ever learn to do this kind of stuff?"
Chen concludes: "In the past I was so busy I couldn't think straight, but now, though still busy, I know exactly what I am doing." Not only does the bucolic life in Kuanyin give Cheng a chance to think, it also allows him to spend time with his children and look after his mother, a stroke victim. For Cheng, who lost his own father when he was only seven, this is something that no amount of money could replace.
Manifest destiny
There are also many cases of people who, believing they have found paradise, encourage their friends to follow them, or whose example is taken up by friends on their own. There are even whole families who have migrated in this way. Chen Li-yun is one example.
Chen was born in Tainan, and her father moved to Touliu for business reasons when she was very young. After Chen moved to Hualien, her father came to visit her three times, and was so taken with the local stone that he decided to immigrate as well. The whole family moved here in 1990. On the day they arrived, Chen's father instructed her younger brother to write on a stone: "Arrived in Hualien on such-and-such a date to enjoy a happy childhood." Chen's father was 60 at the time.
A couple from Kinmen moved in to the left of Tu Chien-fang's home in Luyeh last year. Seeing Tu's example, they decided to stay permanently. They begged a bit of land from Tu on which to build a small cabin. To the right of Tu's property, a multi-story house is going up. This was also land that Tu let a friend have, with Tu finally giving in after repeated requests. The house is nearly finished, though Tu's friend has already been living in their place for some time while waiting for completion.
"Everyone has the chance, it's only a matter of whether or not they have the courage to try," argues Chang Yu-feng, who moved to Taitung half a year ago. You make your own way in this life. Anyway, with the cost of living being much lower, it is not hard to make ends meet. "When you are in the city, it seems strange to go a whole day without spending money, but here there's nowhere to spend your money even if you want to!" Chang estimates that the cost of living is about 40% lower in Taitung than in Taipei.
"You can live very simply," says Ah Wei, who confesses that his greatest expense is cigarettes and alcohol. People often give him fish, vegetables, and fruit as gifts; sometimes these are just left hanging on the door, so he doesn't even know who sent them.
Besides enjoying her life, Jenny Hu is currently writing a book to share her experience with others. "A lot of my friends have emigrated to New Zealand or Canada, and there are cases of people coming back because they couldn't adapt," says Hu. The environment in Taitung is by no means inferior to that abroad, and people looking for a slower-paced life can find it here.
Are you so dissatisfied with your surroundings that you plan to emigrate? Are you so busy that you don't even know what the point is anymore, and you have long since stopped enjoying life? Then try searching out a Peach Blossom Paradise of your own right here in Taiwan!