Singing of an Ancient Future
By Chen Shu-hua
Translated by Violet Cheong
Photographs by Kuo Yi-te


The aging of the world population is a major problem of the twenty-first century. It is estimated that by the year 2040, one fifth of the population of Taiwan will be senior members above the age of sixty-five. Besides relying on the state to provide a good social welfare system, what can we do to tackle the situation of a world filled with gray hair? How should individuals cope with their increased longevity? These are imperative issues for the new millennium.

Old people are often the underprivileged of society, many of whom live in poverty. But the elders of the Ami tribe--one of the nine aboriginal tribes in Taiwan--who live in the mountainous area of Fataan, have learned to stand up for themselves. In their sixties or seventies, the members of the Fataan Culture and Art Troupe (right) transform their memories into songs and dances and bring new life to the aging tribe. The story of these old folks regaining their footing illustrates to us the beauty and charm we might find at the final stage of life. It also depicts the pursuits of the younger generation, their respect for the old people, and their vision for tomorrow.

A dense fog lay over the middle range of Mount Mahsi, at the border of Fataan to the west of Hualien. When the wind came, the dense vapor in the air turned into a shower of fine rain. It was a cold, wet winter afternoon, and the traditional Ami thatched houses clustered around the foot of the mountain seemed rather forlorn. But if one listened carefully, one could hear sounds of singing and laughter.

Inside the house from which the noise originated, a fire was flaming in the hot stove. The aroma of sizzling meat and vegetables and the sound of singing emanated from the thatched house and lingered in the cold air outside. Braving the rain, old folks arrived one after another and joined in the merry atmosphere of feasting, laughter and singing.

 

Treasures of the Amis

In the Ami culture, it is conventional for senior members who have retired from farming or other labors to get together regularly to eat a potluck meal, drink and chat. After a few rounds of food and liquor they begin to sing like they used to do when they were working in the fields, and then as if by reflex they dance to the rhythms.

Today, the singing and dancing of these old folks are no longer mere reminiscences, but arts that envision a future. As members of the Fataan Culture and Art Troupe, they have found a new stage on which they sing and dance to the songs of life.

This change of fate started with the homecoming of Lalam Wunak six years ago. Lalam, now forty-five, left the tribe when he had graduated from the local junior high school to continue studying in Taipei. Under the challenges of a capitalist city, he eventually finished his education, married, bore children, and became a successful businessman in Tainan. In 1990, the government began to encourage the relocation of industries to the undeveloped eastern region of Taiwan. In response to the government's advocacy, Lalam returned to his hometown in eastern Taiwan and found that his tribe had already lost the glory it used to have during his childhood days.

The Fataan Ami tribe was already well known during the Dutch colonial period in the seventeenth century. At its pinnacle, it had a population of almost three thousand, making it one of the largest aboriginal tribes in Taiwan. During the Japanese occupation (1895-1945), the construction of a main road and railway through Fataan put the tribe's traditional culture under stress. Its population began to flow outward. Nonetheless, the major outflow of population really happened in the 60s and 70s. During this time, a large number of young and middle-aged Amis moved to Taipei, the capital of Taiwan, to earn their living. Aside from a few lucky ones like Lalam, most worked as common laborers and sank to the bottom of the social structure.

In the 60s, most of the major buildings in Taipei were built with the labor of young Amis, who also formed the main labor forces in many factories. At the same time that they contributed to Taiwan's miraculous economic growth, the Fataan Ami tribe, whose history has been passed on orally for sixty-nine generations and two thousand years, was in decline.

To outsiders the Amis are just another aboriginal tribe on its last legs, but to Lalam countless treasures wait to be explored.

Coming home to his tribe, Lalam tried hard to find a kind of industry that would help develop his hometown. He also found that while the traditional tribal culture was facing a crisis, the old people who were full of life experiences and wisdom could only live out their remaining days in their memories. Looking at them, an idea emerged in Lalam's mind.

Remembering his past years, he found in the old folks the life resources that he had searched for in vain in the city. It was something that made him feel himself again. He decided he could not let the remaining days of the old people sink into oblivion. They were the treasures of the tribe and he would let these treasures shine again. He thus found the "industry" that he would like to develop in his hometown.

 

Songs of life

The first senior citizen whose life was rekindled after Lalam's return was seventy-two-year-old Chang Lien-chiao. She had borne four sons and two daughters and, like all other Ami women, she still had to do the farming while she brought up the children.

When she was thirty-seven, Lien-chiao married her second husband, a Chinese who had come from mainland China with the Nationalist government, and went with him up the mountain to farm. Life on the mountain was grueling. The hut in which she and her husband lived is still visible from the foot of Mount Mahsi. Each time she sees it in the distance, memories of growing peanuts, ginger and bamboo shoots on the mountain flash back in her mind. She can even visualize herself walking down the mountain trails with baskets full of bamboo shoots for sale in the market.

She moved down from the mountain at the age of fifty-seven, but her physical labors were still not over. Her youngest child, who was in primary school, still needed her support. Like other outflow Amis, she went to the cities to make a living. She worked for the forestry department in Yuli and Lotung, and then she became a construction worker in Taipei. At sixty-eight, when her children had gotten married and no longer needed her support, she finally retired from her job as a hospital janitor in Taipei and returned to her tribe.

Nowadays, it has become a common sight in the tribe to see Lalam trailing old folks with a video camera. In 1996, together with other tribe members who shared his vision about their culture, he founded the Fataan Bangcha Culture Studio. With their efforts, the art of traditional woodcarving was brought back to life again. A woodcarving class was started and old folks were invited to teach this age-old art. The following year, the International Stone Carving Festival was held in Hualien. It was a time when the call to rejuvenate community cultures resounded throughout Taiwan. Lalam contracted the work of designing and erecting the festival site in the name of the Fataan community in the hope of opening up more prospects for the aging tribe.

The site of the festival was a vast tract of deserted land, up to five hectares [12.4 acres]. Lalam and a team of his fellow tribespeople, mostly old folks, worked in cold wind and scorching sun to erect traditional Ami thatched houses on the site. Lien-chiao was the oldest member of the team. She never thought that at her age she could still be of use, and she had certainly not expected that she could indeed be a gem in Lalam's eyes.

Lien-chiao remembered the cold winter morning when they arrived in Taipei after an overnight ride on the train from Fataan. The day before, when they were working at the site, Lalam had asked her if she would be free to go to Taipei for a photography session. She had no idea what kind of activity this would be, but went to the train station that night and joined the team anyway.

It was still dark when they arrived at the Taipei station. Instructed by Lalam, they put on the traditional Ami costumes that they had brought with them. Lien-chiao then realized that they had actually come to publicize the Hualien International Stone Carving Festival. When the traditionally dressed Amis--a people who lived by the mountains and the sea--stood among the modern high-rises of the city, the visual impact was simply stunning.

As expected, they made news in the papers the next day. Faces seamed with the lines of wisdom and bodies emanating the rhythms of life left a formidable impression on many readers. Lien-chiao still could not quite understand the purpose of what they did that day, but she would always remember that chilly morning in early spring when the men of the tribe had to be stripped to the waist. She also remembered Lalam said that they had to do that in order to rejuvenate the Ami culture. She said she actually enjoyed what they did that day. Gradually, her reminiscence became a song that was sung not just with the mouth but with every cell of her body.

Some people complained that the old folks were slow in their movements and that they were not the best singers in the tribe. Yet what Lalam treasured were their irreplaceable memories. Lien-chiao might be somewhat chubby and she limps slightly when she walks, but she has in her memory the songs of the Fataan Amis.

During the International Stone Carving Festival, she sang and danced joyously with her people as they performed traditional Ami songs and dances. Following her example, many other old folks in the tribe have also come out of their reminiscences. Whenever Lalam calls upon them, they readily offer their labor or performances even when there is no remuneration. At the end of the day, singing and dancing are all part of their labor and their lives.

 

Infinity

In the spring of 1999, the International Stone Carving Festival was held in Hualien again, and the Amis were again the main force behind the scenes. This time Lalam's sister, Tsai Shu-ying, also returned to the tribe to join in the work force after having lived in the city for many years.

Shu-ying was in her fifties. At the festival site, she labored to prepare great quantities of traditional Ami food. A few old women in the field pounded and husked rice. The pulsating rhythms pounded in her heart: the old folks of the tribe would wither someday and the traditions passed down generation after generation from their forefathers would in time be washed away. What saddened her most was the fact that as an Ami she knew little about the songs and language of her own culture.

From Shu-ying's experiences in dealing with matters in the city, she believed that these old folks should be organized. She gathered together Lien-chiao and five other old folks, and they often got together and performed out of their free will. The number of performers eventually increased to ten and the Fataan Culture and Art Troupe was established in August that year.

The regular casual meetings of a number of old folks in spring had been transformed into the regular rehearsals of troupe members by autumn. During their practice sessions, Lien-chiao or one of the other old folks would lead off a song that they remembered from days past, and then songs that had been in oblivion would begin to emerge one after another. Some were songs that they had sung before, and others were songs that they had heard from their mothers.

The old folks practiced their singing and dancing time and again. Eventually, their perseverance in preserving the tribal culture was known throughout the tribe and what they did kindled the interest of more middle-aged and elderly members. Today, the troupe has expanded to more than fifty members, their age ranging from forty-five to eighty, and there are now male members as well.

The Ami tribe is a matriarchal society where women head the family but men still take charge of public affairs. Traditionally, festive or ritual singing and dancing were all-male affairs. The women could only watch or join in towards the end. The troupe changed this situation. Affected by the passion of the originally all-female troupe, several men, mostly in their fifties or sixties, have become members too.

When night falls and the working members of the troupe return from their day's work, they are all set to begin another practice session. Their years have left different marks on them. Though they dance to the same rhythm and make the same movements, every body expresses a different story.

The participation of each and every body, fat or skinny, is irreplaceable. The dance of a young, beautiful body is enchanting, yet that of an aged body is a kind of indescribable infinity.

Lalam understands this infinity. He felt it when he began to record the old folks with a video camera and when he invited Lien-chiao to join him in preserving the tribal culture. He knows that the only way to perpetuate this infinity is to give the old folks a happy life. The incessant practice has brought great progress for the troupe and has even brought about the formation of another culture troupe in the tribe. However, the cohesive kin network of the tribe has been inevitably disturbed due to the competition. This situation has put some of the old folks in a dilemma and makes Lalam apprehensive.

 

The future grows from the land

The sugarcane plantation by Fataan Creek was ready for harvest in December. In the late afternoon, fifty-eight-year-old Huang Ah-jung and his wife, Chang Chiu-ying, were busy preparing snacks for the plantation workmen, who would soon finish their work for the day. Huang and his wife were farmers by day and members of the Fataan Culture and Art Troupe by night. In their free time, they also appeared at banquets or other important occasions as trumpet players for a musical band.

The Huangs dancing in the troupe were the same as the Huangs working at the plantation. Only bodies that had labored on the rugged land of Fataan could produce such immense power when they danced under the gloomy glow of fluorescent lights in the evening. It was a power that touched onlookers' hearts in a way that was beyond words.

The Huangs have been closely attached to the land since they were young. The Amis have a tradition of exchanging labor whereby families share their manpower in farming or cutting firewood in the mountains. Young Huang met Chang, who had just completed her primary school education, when he came to her family during one such labor exchange. He fell in love with her at first sight. However, bearing the tribal admonitions for the young in mind, he could only hide his feelings and focus his attention on his work. His labor slowly turned into a beautiful song and an enchanting dance. She was already a mature young lady when he returned from his compulsory two-year military service. He confessed his feelings to her and they were married soon after.

Besides being away from home for a short period of time when he worked on a construction team in Singapore, Huang has always worked on the land together with his wife. They have farmed, danced and played their trumpets together. Now their children have grown up and left home to work in the cities, because none of them want to farm anymore. In time to come when they have both passed away, their children will probably sell the land that they had worked hard for most of their lives. Although they are aware of that, it is still their firm conviction that they will work and dance on their land until they die.

Like Lien-chiao and other old folks, the Huangs are discernibly people who grew from the land. Facing their coming old age with calmness and confidence, they dance bravely and passionately towards the future while "infinity" is already in the making.

Lalam's heart is still full of apprehension and the future promises to be full of challenges, but the power of infinity has already been activated. It is a power that existed before and has now been recovered. It makes one realize the beauty of being old--a beautiful state of life worth looking forward to.

The ancestors of the Amis had indeed demonstrated to them such an ideal way of life a long time ago. An Ami male belongs to the family from his infancy to his youth, after which he belongs to the tribe. As his life progresses according to his age group, he takes up a new life challenge every five years until the age of fifty, at which time he is experienced in the way of life and enters the stage of old age. If he lives long enough, at the age of eighty he can release himself from the obligation of guiding the young people and step down from the public sphere to enjoy being taken care of by the younger generations. An Ami female always belongs to her family. Her life is divided into various stages according to the physical changes of her body rather than age, and it proceeds in the same direction towards old age as with an Ami male.

This is what life is all about. People always contribute their energy when they are young. When they become old and weak and can no longer contribute physically, they have all their wisdom to share. It is the duty of the younger generations that benefit from this wisdom to take care of their elders. The forefathers of the Amis did not pass on their culture and wisdom through written means. Their cultural inheritance was carried out orally, through actual practice in daily life and through conversations between souls. That is why the care and veneration the Amis give to their elderly are as natural as the songs and dances that flow out from their bodies. Only in this way can they continue their lives.

The infinity radiating from the old folks and the road traveled by their forefathers are thus the visions that help Lalam and other young Amis to carry on. In their vision, the old folks who are coming to the end of life will see a future again.

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