Kinmen's Prospects After Opening Up

Weng Min-hui, a 19-year-old girl from Kinmen, once threw her valise containing clothing and toiletries out of a second story window and stole away, vowing to leave behind the place that she felt held no promise for her. Now, 15 years later, she has returned to Kinmen to be a tour guide and docent for the Kinmen County Tourism Bureau, and by studying local history, architecture, and culture has reacquainted herself with her ancestral homeland. She now knows that Kinmen, though small, produced 39 imperial degree holders (i.e., individuals who passed the challenging imperial exams), three times as many as nearby resource-rich Taiwan. That three distinct lifestyles and cultures-traditional Minnan (Taiwan and southern Fujian), the rich emigre, and the military-all flourished on Kinmen's soil, adding to its unique and valuable historical assets. She no longer hides her Kinmen origins, but is eager to share her home island's beauty with others.

Weng Min-hui is by no means an anomaly. Back in 1987, around the time when martial law was being lifted in Taiwan, a lot of scholars realized that scaling down the military presence on Kinmen would usher in an unprecedented crisis of environmental and cultural preservation. These perceptive individuals accordingly began lobbying the government early on to protect Kinmen's unique resources. With the subsequent media-generated "Kinmen fever," a lot of Kinmen's native sons and daughters awoke to their homeland's distinctiveness and returned to seek opportunities at home.

During that time the government did in fact expend a large amount of money and energy to promote tourism in Kinmen, but the time wasn't ripe yet, and only old soldiers formerly stationed in Kinmen were interested in visiting it so as to reminisce about bygone days. During the very beginning of tourism in Kinmen, some of the locals eagerly drew on the experience of "holistic community building" in Taiwan. Some of the villages pooled their financial and land resources to build homestays, and they marketed local arts and crafts as cultural tourism. But unfortunately for them, most operations eventually folded owing to bad management.

Unable to earn money off of Taiwanese tourists and dependent on governmental support to finance the repairs for their historical homes, the people began to voice their concerns, and the government in Taipei was forced to consider Kinmen's future.

At a joint conference with government officials and journalists, Kinmen officials complained that the new post-military tourism had only succeeded in appealing to the middle-aged and elderly segments of the population. In order to attract younger tourists, they were thinking of remaking Kinmen as a seaside resort, emphasizing leisure, physical activity, and entertainment. Some even suggested the creation of a mock military camp modeled on the old, much-feared military tours of duty in Kinmen and Matsu (back in the days when these were the two most frightening assignments a young man serving out his compulsory military service could get), allowing people to relive the suspense and danger of watching the coast by night amidst a maelstrom of artillery fire. Officials on the islet of Little Kinmen, which lies between Kinmen and the nearby mainland city of Xiamen, were hoping to take a cue from the bright lights of Xiamen, updating its infrastructure and turning it into a luminescent modern spot by the sea-at the very least, they hoped to install a few more street lamps so that it wouldn't suffer too much by comparison.

Stiff competition in the domestic tourist market and escalating plane ticket prices make it very difficult to vouch for the quality of a packaged Kinmen tour. Then there's the fact that the Kinmen local government coffers are too empty to properly promote tourism, and without clever packaging it isn't easy to attract new tourists.

Moreover, back when Kinmen was swarming with tens of thousands of soldiers, the locals could make an easy living. It was a simple matter of supply and demand-it didn't take much to turn a profit with so many GIs clamoring to buy a limited supply of goods. But with the beginning of tourism on the island, the undemanding young soldiers have been replaced by hordes of shrewd, travel-experienced tourists, mostly old men and women unafraid to fight tooth and nail for a bargain. With their relative lack of experience, Kinmen's shopkeepers have been complaining about how hard it is to make a living.

Kinmen has made it through historic ups and downs with its dignity intact, but will discarding its past and remaking its image allow it to find favor with Taiwan youth? As scholars struggle to salvage Kinmen's historical legacy, and the local people are finding renewed pride in their cultural identity, the local government, meanwhile, has set its sights on mainland China, hoping that the China's opening of the "mini-three links" to mainland tourists will bring in throngs of visitors from across Xiamen Bay. With its traditions, emigre culture and military culture on the decline and its ambiguous status as a cross-strait nexus, how is Kinmen to reach a consensus when plotting its future course? When will Kinmen see the light at the end of the tunnel? In the meantime, this stouthearted little island is determined to find its destiny.

With assistance from the Industrial Development Bureau of the Ministry of Economic Affairs, Kinmen's knives, made from artillery shell casings, have become a local specialty. Around 100 of these unique knives are sold every day. (photo by Hsu Yu-feng)