Life in Taiwan

I was made in Taiwan, born in Changhua City in western Taiwan on the 7th of November, 1980. I was raised in a large family by my grandmother (Mom would probably object to that statement, but I do give her credit for financially and spiritually supporting my immediate family). Changhua was home to my "countryside" personality. There, I became familiar with the traditional, superstitious ways of praying to many manifestations of many gods. I ate cheap, dirty (but ever so delicious) food at night market stands and enjoyed the concrete slide located between my uncles' houses. All I ever cried about was the rocks and thorns that stuck to my feet when I played in the front yard. I had a typical worry-free childhood many thanks to both of my parents, who fought hard financially to put me through the best possible education and family life I could have.

Life in the U.S.

My family immigrated to the U.S. when Dad sought a post-graduate degree in computer science in the summer of 1991. The one summer and two semesters we spent in San Marcos, central Texas, would mark the beginning of a new life for me. I knew the 26 letters and the word "hat" because my English teacher back in Taiwan thought I pronounced it very well. I was the only fifth-grader at my school who lugged around a hand-held electronic English-to-Chinese translator almost all the time. Fortunately, I adapted well to the new culture and new cuisine of mashed potatoes, French fries, and chicken-fried steak. Mom didn't do as well in the beginning, though. She said she felt powerless in the States. In Taiwan, she was a woman in her prime, more than capable of taking good care of the family. In the U.S., she couldn't speak the language and she wasn't used to the food; not only that, her two children were immersed in an unfamiliar environment. She tells me that culture shock severely depressed her during that time; she even thought of suicide. Unaware of her difficulties then, I treated the time there as a vacation, thinking we'd return to Taiwan as soon as Dad got his Master's. It turned out that when my cousin's family came to visit us, they also intended to stay permanently in America.

Beginning motives

I went through middle school and almost all of high school never thinking I'd turn out to be such a photography buff. I'd wanted to become a chef when I was little. I'd also thought about becoming a computer programmer like Dad. My musical training in the piano and the flute had also diversified my opportunities for the near future. But eventually, the snowflake that started my photography avalanche began at sweet 16 when my parents bought my first camera. Dad approved of it because he also had interest in photography and Mom encouraged me to develop artistically.

I took my first photography class in high school the following semester. I then became a teacher's aide when the school ran out of photo classes for me to take. Near the end of high school, I'd acquired basic black and white darkroom skills and a fundamental knowledge of the camera. Back then, I thought photography was purely a medium of art. Later, it became more scientific and technical. I believe a good photographer needs a good mixture of both science and art to visually complete and express his thoughts. In short, art is what the photographer wants to express; science is how he gets there.

First brushes

My interest in shooting Tzu Chi events spawned from an international relief trip to El Salvador during the summer of 2002. I was to document the efforts of the volunteers and the progress of village reconstruction. I made one critical observation: what I saw and photographed was different from what I felt. I photographed the long hours that fellow Tzu Chi volunteers endured just to make breakfast for 80 other volunteers. I saw the hope and gratitude in the eyes and faces of the earthquake victims when they received their portion of wheat. I smelled the sweat of doctors who donated their time and skill to treat endless lines of seemingly helpless families. Thus, I found my mission to document the suffering, the relief, and the gratitude felt by everyone afterwards. There were so many dimensions in such a wide spectrum that I was able to record and therefore remember. Not only did I burn these mental images into my memory, I was endowed with the power to share this experience visually with many others.

The big picture

I have yet to sit down and evaluate which step to take next on this ladder of life. Coming back to Taiwan after 12 years in America is a small tread compared to the next stride I am considering taking into Tzu Chi. During the past three weeks, during which I have photographed Tzu Chi people in Taipei and Tzu Chi headquarters in Hualien, I've met some extraordinary characters. Their overwhelming devotion and loyalty towards Tzu Chi seems unshakable. Although they come from all branches of the community, they all seem to share one same school of thought: It's all in the mind. It's all about will power. And since it's all mental and actions depend on will power, hope becomes the greatest potential in the human mind. With hope, all shall prosper.

Ultimately, I believe I'll be on the right path if I continue with Tzu Chi. While writing this article, I remembered an old saying: A picture is worth a thousand words. If Master Cheng Yen's words can make a difference in our world, I believe my pictures can, too.

[The writer recently graduated from the University of Texas in Austin. In the following pages, you will see some of his photographs in the sidebars. For more images, please log on at http://www.canonboy.com.]