Taiwanese history

Railway Station Name Change Chart (臺灣日治時期火車站新舊地名對照表)

The purpose of this website, and by extension this blog, has always been to showcase my photography and my travels around Taiwan. Over the years, I’ve been quite adamant that my photos should always be used to help tell the story of the places I’ve been visiting around the country. This article is thus going to be somewhat of a first for me and I’m publishing it mostly just to serve as a reference for a few of my other articles.

To start, I should offer a bit of a backstory: I don’t spend all that much time on social media, but from time to time, I find some real gems shared in the Taiwanese history groups that I follow. So while browsing recently, I came across a photo of (what appeared to be) something out of a newspaper. The photo appeared aged, and featured a list of locations in Taiwan that were part of a major name-change policy that took effect in the early 1920s.

This was something that automatically interested me, especially since it was primarily focused on the railway, so given that it was all in Chinese, I quickly translated parts of it, and shared it on my Twitter. I’m not necessarily going to suggest that the tweet went viral, but it did attract quite a bit of attention, especially from Taiwanese followers who commented that they had no idea about many of the original place names that they were seeing on the photo.

The photo appeared to be an announcement from the Japanese-era Taiwan Railway Bureau (台灣鐵道部), listing a number railway stations around the island that were changing their names. Most of the information that was listed on the chart wasn’t particularly new to me, but it was the first time that I had seen it put together, especially on something that looked official.

Honestly, this is an aspect of Taiwan’s history that I’ve probably touched upon more than a few dozen times on my various articles about the Japanese-era, so I thought it best that I put together this article, and make use of the chart to expand upon what took place. One of the other reasons I’m writing this, though, is because there isn’t much information available in the English language regarding some of these original location names. I thought it would be helpful for anyone interested to learn about aspects of Taiwan’s history that aren’t often mentioned.

This time, in lieu of my own photos, I’m just going to share maps of Taiwan from the Japanese-era, which are often beautifully designed, but also feature some of those location names prior to being changed.

Link: Taiwan’s Remaining Japanese-era Train Stations (台鐵現存日治時期車站)

In the early years of the Japanese-era, Taiwan's administrative districts were a bit of a mess, with about twenty somewhat unorganized prefectures (廳). By the time Emperor Taisho (大正天皇) had come to power, the situation in Taiwan had started to become much more organized, and after more than two decades of development, many of the villages, towns and cities that we know today had stated to take shape, with infrastructure in place to properly administer the island.

In 1920 (大正9年), the Japanese government in Tokyo instituted an administrative policy that standardized Taiwan’s geographic administrative areas with those in the rest of the country. Known as the ‘Dōka Policy’ (同化 / どーか), Taiwan’s administrative areas were converted from the original ‘prefectures’ (廳 / cho / ちょう) into the same ‘prefectures’ (州 / shu / しゅう) that were used in Japan at the time. It was during this time that they also reduced the original number of prefectures from twenty to eight.

As of 1920, Taiwan’s eight prefectures were:

  1. Taihoku (臺北州 / たいほくしゅう): Modern day Taipei, New Taipei City, Keelung, Yilan

  2. Shinchiku (新竹州 / しんちくしゅう): Modern day: Taoyuan, Hsinchu, Miaoli

  3. Taichu (臺中州 / たいちゅうしゅう): Modern day: Taichung, Changhua, Nantou,

  4. Tainan (臺南州 / たいなんしゅう): Modern day: Chiayi, Yunlin, Tainan,

  5. Takao (高雄州 / たかおしゅう): Modern day: Kaohsiung, Pingtung

  6. Karenko (花蓮港廳 / かれんこうちょう): Modern day: Hualien

  7. Taito (臺東廳 / たいとうちょう): Modern day: Taitung, Green Island, Orchid Island

  8. Hoko (澎湖廳 /ほうこちょう): Modern day: Penghu Islands

Within each of these prefectures, you would have found subdivisions in the form of cities (市 / し) and counties (郡 / ぐん), which were then divided up into neighborhoods (町 / まち), towns (街 / がい), villages (庄 / そう) and Indigenous communities (蕃地 / ばんち), respectively.

While the colonial government was drawing up all of these new administrative districts, another issue that had to be dealt with were the names of some of these places. While it’s true that many of the major towns and villages around the island kept their original names, the Japanese weren’t exactly the biggest fans of some of them, so they decided to make some changes.

Prior to the arrival of the Japanese in 1895, Taiwan had been inhabited first it’s various tribes of indigenous peoples, then settlers from China started making their way across the strait, followed by the Portuguese, Spanish, Dutch, English, etc. With names derived from so many different influences, the Japanese sought to create a system that was not only modern, but easier to understand.

For those of you who are interested in the changes, I’ve put together a list of some of the name changes that took place in 1922. It’s a long list, and I’m only going to provide their original name, the name they changed to, and their current name. I won’t spend time translating each of them to Japanese as many of them also appear below:

  • 1. Chúi-tng-kha (水返腳) → Sek-chí / Xizhi (汐止) Hokkien origin

    2. Sek-kháu (錫口) → Siông-san / Songshan (松山) Hokkien origin

    3. Pressinowan (叭哩沙) → Sam-sing / Sanxing (三星) Ketagalan origin

    4. Pang-kiô (枋橋) → Pang-kiô / Banqiao (板橋) Hokkien origin

    5. Sann-kak-íng (三角湧) → Sam-kiap / Sanxia (三峽) Hokkien origin

    6. Kiâm-chhài-àng (鹹菜硼) → Guanˋ si / Guanxi (關西) Hakka origin

    7. On Phìn-tsṳ́n (安平鎮) → Phìn-tsun / Pingzhen (平鎮) Hakka origin

    8. Rhong moi lag (楊梅壢) → Rhong moi / Yangmei (楊梅) Hakka origin

    9. Takoham (大嵙崁) → Thai-hâi / Daxi (大溪) Ketagalan origin

    10. Su-gi-na (樹杞林) → Tek-tang / Zhudong (竹東) Hakka origin

    11. Co-sân (草山) → Pó-sân / Baoshan (寶山) Hakka origin

    12. Tonsuyan (屯消) → Thunsiau / Tongxiao (通霄) Taokas Origin

    13. Ataabu (阿罩霧) → Bu-hong / Wufeng (霧峰) Hoanya origin

    14. Sann-tsa̍p-tiunn-lê (三十張犁) → Pak-tun / Beitun (北屯) Hokkien origin

    15. Thài-pîng (太平) → Tua-pîng / Daping (大平) Hokkien origin

    16. Holotun (葫蘆墩) → Hong-guân / Fengyuan (豐原) Saisiyat origin

    17. Gû-mâ-thâu (牛罵頭) → Tshing-tsuí / Qingshui (清水) Hokkien origin

    18. Ka-tâu (茄投) → Liông-tsínn / Longjing (龍井) Hokkien origin

    19. Khóo Ka-ióng (茄苳腳) → Hue-tuânn / Huatan (花壇) Hokkien origin

    20. Kuan-tè thiann (關帝廳) → Éng-tseng / Yongjing (永靖) Hokkien origin

    21. Huan-á-uat (番仔挖) → Sua-suann / Shashan (沙山) Hokkien origin

    22. Chháu-ê-tun (草鞋墩) → Chháu-tùn / Caotun (草屯) Hokkien origin

    23. Lâm-ngá (湳仔) → Bêng-kan / Mingjian (名間) Hokkien origin

    24. Toukouva (塗庫) → Jîn-tik / Rende (仁德) Siraya origin

    25. Tavocan (大目降) → Sin-huà / Hsinhua (新化) Siraya origin

    26. Tapani (噍吧哖) → Ta-pa-nî / Yujing (玉井) Taivoan origin

    27. Tackalan (直加弄) → An-ting / Anding (安定) Siraya origin

    28. Saulang (蕭壠) → Ka-lí / Jiali (佳里) Siraya origin

    29. Tiàm-á-kháu (店仔口) → Peh-hô / Baihe (白河) Hokkien origin

    30. Tá-bâ (打貓) → Bîn-hiông / Minxiong (民雄) Hoanya origin

    31. Muî-a-khenn (梅仔坑) → Sió-muî / Xiaomei (小梅) Hokkien origin

    32. Dalivoe (他里霧) → Táu-lâm-tìn / Dounan (斗南) Hoanya origin

    33. Phok-a-kioh (樸仔腳) → Phoh-tsú / Puzi (朴子) Hokkien origin

    34. Takao (打狗) → Ko-hiông / Kaohsiung (高雄) Makatao origin

    35. Han-chî-liâu (蕃薯藔) → Kî-san / Qishan (旗山) Hakka origin

    36. Mì-nùng (彌濃) → Mì-nùng / Meinong (美濃) Hakka origin

    37. Akaw (阿緱) → Pîn-tong / Pingtung (屏東) Paiwan origin

    38. Vangecul (蚊蟀) → Buán-tsiu / Manzhou (滿州) Paiwan origin

    39. Má-keng (媽宮) → Má-keng / Magong (馬公) Hokkien origin

In some cases the names of these towns changed completely, but for the most part most of them remained the same, albeit with simple changes in the ‘Kanji’ (Chinese characters) that were thought to make them more ‘elegant.’

To better explain what I mean, I’m going to start by offering a few specific, and probably the most obvious, examples of how these names changed:

The most obvious example of these name changes was in the southern port city that we refer today as Kaohsiung. Originally inhabited by the Makatao (馬卡道族) and Siraya (西拉雅族) indigenous groups, the area was referred as ‘Takau Island’ translating to 'bamboo forest island’ in the indigenous languages. When Chinese settlers arrived in the area, they heard the name ‘Takau’ and assigned the Chinese characters ‘打狗’, which translates literally as ‘beating a dog,’ something none of us should ever do.

When the Japanese arrived in Taiwan, the name of the city remained the same, but in 1920, they changed the Kanji from ‘打狗’ to ‘高雄’ (高雄 / たかお), which had the same 'pronunciation in Japanese. Considered far too crude to be the name of a Japanese city and an international port, the colonial government came up with something that was so good that when the Chinese Nationalists arrived in 1945, instead of changing the name from the Japanese 'Takao', they just left the Chinese characters the same, which is why the city has since been known as ‘Kaohsiung' in the Chinese language.

In a similar case, the town we know today as Minxiong (民雄) also had a name that the Japanese frowned upon - The (then) small village in Chiayi (嘉義) was originally named ’Dovaha’ (擔貍社) by the Dutch, who gave it the name in honor of the Pingpu Tribe (平埔族) that settled there. Later, the name was translated from Dutch into Taiwanese Hokkien as ‘Tá-bâ’ (打貓), or ‘beating a cat.’ Once again, instead of changing the pronunciation of the name, different characters were chosen to represent the town. Pronounced ‘Tamio’ (たみお) in Japanese, the words “民雄” (Hero of the People) were chosen instead.

There are of course other examples of how these name changes took place that didn’t have to do with animal cruelty, or the names being inappropriate. Take Kaohsiung’s district of Gangshan (岡山區) as an example. Originally named ‘A-kong-tiàm‘ (阿公店), or ‘Grandfather’s Shop’, the origin of the name of the town has a few different interpretations. One explanation was that due to its geographic location as a trading space between the ports in Tainan and Kaohsiung, the area was full of stores run by seniors. Hilariously, there are also claims that the name was actually just given to the space because there was an old guy in the middle of no where with a store.

Either way, the name ‘A-kong-tiàm’ didn’t really translate very well to Japanese, so they changed it entirely - The new name for the district of Takao Prefecture, which was being developed as a suburb became known as ‘Okayama’ (岡山 / おかやま), named after one of the Japanese main island’s prefectures. Once again, when the Republic of China took over in the 1940s, the name remained the same, with the pronunciation changed to ‘Gangshan’ instead of ‘Okayama’ and remains so to this day.

There is, however, a reservoir in the area that retains the ‘A-kong-tiàm’ name, a nod to the town’s history.

Link: 大字 (おおあざ) | 小字 (こあざ) - Wikipedia

The Tainan of the early 1900s.

My final example before moving on is one that is simply just a linguistic difference between Chinese, Taiwanese and Japanese, and most of the name changes that took place are due to these linguistic differences. If I use the Japanese-era ‘Shanjia Train Station’ (山佳車站) as an example, the original name of the area was ‘Suann á kioh’ (山仔腳), referring to its location at the foot of a mountain. The problem was that the character ‘仔’(zai), which is quite common in Taiwanese Hokkien isn’t very common in Japanese.

When it came to characters that weren’t commonly used in Kanji, like this, they simply replaced the ‘仔’ with a similar, simplified version of the character, like ‘子’, for example.

With these examples, I think you should have somewhat of an introduction to the thought process behind some of these changes. In some instances, the Japanese felt the names were inappropriate, in others they just didn’t translate well, and in others, they were simplified for convenience. Below, I’ll list each of the name changes that are displayed on the chart.

At this time, I’m not going to go into detail about the origin of each of the names, but I will provide their original name, their Japanese-era name, and their current name so that you can better understand how these things have evolved over time. If you’re interested in the linguistic changes mentioned in the third example above, click the drop down below, where I’ve provided a list of the most common character changes:

  •  ‘(á) zi’ 「仔」was changed to ‘zi’「子」

    ‘hong’「藔」was changed to  ‘liáo’「寮」

    ‘hun’ 「份」was changed to ‘fèn’ 「分」

    ‘bei’ 「陂」was changed to ‘po’ 「坡」

    ‘shén’「什」was changed to ‘shí’「十」

    ‘tun’「墩」was changed to ‘tún’「屯」

    ‘ào’「澚」was changed to ‘ào’「澳」

    ‘gang’「崗」was changed to ‘gang’「岡」

    ‘khu’「坵」was changed to ‘qiu’「丘」

    ‘muâ’「蔴」was changed to ‘má’「麻」

    ‘diàn’「佃」was changed to ‘tián’「田」

Now, let me spend some time dissecting the inspiration for this article, the photo that appeared on my social media feed, all of which I’ve broken up and translated for you below:

To start, in the direct center of the diagram, you’ll find the vertical text: “Taisho Year 11, Taiwan Railway Station Name Change Chart” (大正十一年台灣鐵道停車場中改稱名新舊對照表), splitting the diagram into four different sections, or regions of the island.

For each of the stations, I’ll start with their original Japanese name, their name after being changed, and then their current name. I’ll also provide a link to each of the stations for any of you who are interested in learning more about the stations, many of which are now well-over a century old.

Note: In some cases, the romanization of these names could be a bit off, but I’ve done my best translating from several different languages to give readers a better idea of these changes.

Starting in the south, we have the following eleven name changes:

  1. Chushusou Station (中州庄乗降場) → Chushu Station (中州驛  / ちゅうしゅうえき) → Zhongzhou Station (中洲車站)

  2. Shinshigai Station (新市街驛 / しんしがいえき) → Shinshi Station (新市驛 / しんしえき) → Xinshi Station (新市車站)

  3. Wanri Station (灣裡驛/わんりえき) → Zenka Station (善化 / ぜんかえき) → Shanhua Station (善化車站)

  4. Hanshiten Station (番仔田停車場) → Hanshiten Station (番子田驛 / はんしてんえき) → Longtian Station (隆田車站)

  5. Shin’eisho Station (新營庄驛 / しんえいしょうえき) → Shin’ei Station (新營驛 / しんえいしょうえき) → Xinying Station (新營車站)

  6. Koheki’ryo Station (後壁藔停車場 / こうへき りょうえき) → Koheki Station (後壁驛 / こうへきえき) → Houbi Station (後壁車站)

  7. Suikuttao Station (水堀頭驛 / すいほりとうえき) → Suijo Station (水上驛 / すいじょうえき) → Shuishang Station (水上車站)

  8. Dabyo Station (打猫驛/だびょうえき) → Tamio Station (民雄驛 / たみおえき) → Minxiong Station (民雄車站)

  9. Taihorin Station (大莆林驛 / たいほりんえき) → Tairin Station (大林驛 / たいりんえき) → Dalin Station (大林車站)

  10. Tarimu Station (他里霧驛 / たりむりんえき) → Toroku Station (斗六驛/とろくえき) → Douliu Station (斗六車站)

  11. Nihachisui Station (二八水驛 / にはちすいえき) → Nisui Station (二水驛) → Ershui Station (二水車站 / にすいえき)

On the top right, we have the following eleven name changes in the north:

  1. Komota Station (紅毛田驛 / こうもうたえき) → Komo Station (紅毛驛 / こうもうえき) → (1934) Chikuhoku Station (竹北驛/ちくほくえき) - Chubei Station (竹北車站)

  2. Taikoko Station (大湖口驛 / たいここうえき) →  Kokō Station (湖口驛 / ここうえき) → Hukou Station (湖口車站)

  3. Yōbair Station (楊梅壢驛 / ようばいれき) → Yobai Station (楊梅驛 / ようばいえき) → Yangmei Station (楊梅車站)

  4. Heianchin Station (平安鎮驛 / へいあんちんえき) → Heichin Station (平鎮驛 / へいちんえき) → Puxin Station (埔心車站)

  5. Kanshikyaku Station (崁仔脚驛 / かんしきゃくえき) → Kanshikyaku Station (崁子脚驛 / かんしきゃくえき) → Neili Station (內壢車站)

  6. Okaishi Station (鶯歌石驛 / おうかいしえき) → Oka Station (鶯歌驛 / おうかえき) → Yingge Station (鶯歌車站)

  7. Yamakogashi Station (山仔脚驛 / やまご あしえき) → Yamakogashi Station (山子腳驛 / やまご あしえき) → Shanjia Station (山佳車站)

  8. Bankyo Station (枋橋驛 / ばんきょうえき) → Itahashi Station (板橋驛 / いたはしえき) → Banqiao Station (板橋車站)

  9. Báng-kah Station (艋舺驛 / まんかえき) → Manka Station (萬華驛 / まんかえき) → Wanhua Station (萬華車站)

  10. Suzuko Station (錫口驛 / すずこうえき) → Matsuyama Station (松山驛 / まつやまえき) → Songshan Station (松山車站)

  11. Suihenkyaku Station (水返脚驛 / すいへんきゃくえき)Shiodome Station (汐止驛 / しおどめえき) → Xizhi Station (汐止車站)

On the bottom left, we have the following eleven name changes on the east coast and in the south of Taiwan.

  1. Suo Station (蘇澚驛 / そおうえき) → Suo Station (蘇澳驛 / そおうえき) → Su’ao Station (蘇澳車站)

  2. Togazan Station (冬瓜山驛 / とうがざんえき) → Tozan Station (冬山驛 / とうざんえき) → Dongshan Station (東山車站)

  3. Nonnongai Station (暖暖街驛 / だんだんがいえき) → Nonnon Station (暖暖驛 / だんだんえき) → Nuannuan Station (暖暖車站)

  4. Tonbutsu Station (頓物驛 /とんぶつえき) → Takeda Station (竹田驛 / たけだえき) → Zhutian Station (竹田車站)

  5. Ako Station (阿緱驛 / あこうえき) → Heito Station (屏東驛 / へいとうえき) → Pingtung Station (屏東車站)

  6. Takao Station (打狗驛 / たかおえき) → Takao Station (高雄驛 / たかおえき) → Kaohsiung Station (高雄車站)

  7. Nanshiko Station (楠仔坑驛 / なんしこうえき) → Nanshi Station (楠摔驛 / なんしえき) → Nanzi Station (楠梓車站)

  8. Kyokoto Station (橋仔頭驛 / きょうことうえき) → Kyokoto Station (橋子頭驛 / きょうことうえき) → Qiaotou Station (橋頭車站)

  9. Akotentei Station (阿公店驛 / あこうてんていえき) → Okayama Station (岡山驛 / をかやまえき) → Gangshan Station (岡山車站)

  10. Hanrochiku station (半路竹驛 / はんろちくえき) → Rochiku Station (路竹驛 / ろちくえき) → Luzhu Station (路竹車站)

  11. Daikogai Station (大湖街驛 / だいこがいえき) → Daiko Station (大湖驛 / だいこえき) → Dahu Station (大湖車站)

Finally, on the bottom right, we have the following eleven name changes in central Taiwan:

  1. Tanakaou Station (田中央驛 / でんちゅうおうえき) → Tanaka Station (田中驛 / でんちゅうえき) → Tianzhong Station (田中車站)

  2. Katokyaku Station (茄蔘腳驛 / かとうきゃえき) → Kadan Station (花壇驛 / かだんえき) → Huatan Station (花壇車站)

  3. Daito Station (大肚驛 / だいとえき) → Oda Station (王田驛 / おうたえき) → Chenggong Station (成功車站)

  4. Tanshiken Station (潭仔乾驛 / たんしけん) → Tanshi Station (潭子驛 / たんしえき) → Tanzi Station (潭子車站)

  5. Koroton Station (葫產激驛 / ころとんえき) → Toyohara Station (豐原驛 / とよはらえき) → Fengyuan Station (豐原車站)

  6. Korisou Station (后里庄驛 / こうりそうえき) → Kori Station (后里驛 / こうりえき) → Houli Station (后里車站)

  7. Taiankei Station (大安溪驛 /だいあんけいえき) → Tai’an Station (大安驛 / たいあんえき) → Tai’an Station (泰安車站)

  8. Sansagawa Station (三叉河驛 / さんさがわえき) → Sansa Station (三叉驛 / さんさえき) → Sanyi Station (三義車站)

  9. Dorawan Station (銅鑼灣驛 / どうらわんえき) → Dora Station (銅鑼驛 / どうらえき) → Tongluo Station (銅鑼車站)

  10. Koryu Station (後壠 /こうりゅうえき) → Koryu Station (後龍驛 / こうりゅうえき) → Houlong Station (後龍車站)

  11. Chuko Station (中港驛 /ちゅうこうえき) → Chikunan Station (竹南驛 / ちくなんえき) → Zhunan Station (竹南車站)

Now that we’ve got all of that out of the way, it’s time to talk a little about the photo, and some rather obvious aspects of it that I probably should have noticed much earlier than I did.

The old adage ‘a picture tells a thousand words’ proves quite important with regard to the chart. You could argue that it’s not exactly a ‘picture,’ nor are there a thousand words on it, but after studying it for a while, I started to notice things that wouldn’t have been there if it were an original announcement from 1922. One of the first things that I should have noticed was that on the very top of the chart, under the two crests, the words “Showa Era” (昭和時代) and “Taisho Era” (大正時代).

The problem with this was that if the chart was released in 1922, it would be a bit strange to see the acknowledgement of the Showa Era there, given that it started on December 25, 1926, and lasted until the death of Emperor Showa on January 7th, 1989. Those ‘era’s are repeated once again at the top of the chart in smaller-case font with the addition of the Meiji Era (明治時代), which preceded the Taisho era. Essentially, the chart was more or less just listing the three emperors who oversaw control of Taiwan during the Japanese-era.

Historic railway stations in Taiwan, recreated by Taiwan Restoration.

What I should have noticed from the outset were the words “Taiwan Restoration” (台湾維新) - You’ll have to forgive me if what I say here seems like an advertisement, but a few years back I purchased a beautifully designed poster-like print that featured the logos that represented Taiwan’s various cities during the Japanese-era. Design-wise, I’m a big fan of them, especially compared to the ghastly logos that are used these days.

I purchased the print at a local bookstore, but it was produced by the very same ‘Taiwan Restoration’ person (or group) mentioned above. While you can still find quite a few of their designs for sale online, they haven’t really been very active updating their social media page in the past few years, so I can’t really tell you if it’s all being designed by a single person or a group of people. What I can tell you is that they’re (probably) not affiliated with the ‘Taiwan Renewal Party’, which shares the same Chinese name.

Link: Taiwan Restoration (Facebook) | Ruten Store: 台湾維新 | GJ Taiwan Store

Taking a look at the Facebook page, it strikes me that the products that they’re selling are all designed quite well, making use of some of the iconography that was prevalent during the Japanese-era. Obviously, as I mentioned earlier, I’m a fan of the logos that were created to signify Taiwan, and its major towns and cities. That being said, they’ve designed quite a few things that celebrate Taiwan’s railroad, which I really appreciate.

Now that I’ve done some looking into their products, I might actually try to purchase some more, if they’re still available. Unfortunately, it seems like quite a few of their products are sold out, have been for some time, and I’m not particularly sure if they’ll ever be restocked.

Nevertheless, before I leave you, with regard to all of the name changes that took place in Taiwan during the Japanese-era, the diagram above only features a small percentage of the location names that were changed. This is because it is only a representation of the railway stations that changed their names to reflect the changes in their community. The evolution of how these names of places around the country have changed over the centuries is a subject that is not covered very well in the English language, but it is a fascinating topic that paints a much broader story of how this beautiful island has changed as it has developed over the past few centuries.

References

  1. 台灣舊地名

  2. 臺灣鐵道旅行案內 (國家文化記憶庫)

  3. Taiwan Restoration Facebook (台湾維新)

  4. 臺灣日治時期行政區劃 (Wiki)

Taiwan Prefectural City God Temple (臺灣府城隍廟)

Given that you can find a City God temple in every major city, town or village in Taiwan, it shouldn’t surprise anyone to know that there are close to a hundred of these places of worship throughout the country, celebrating an ancient Chinese folk religious tradition.

Having already published articles about the Xiahai City God Temple (霞海城隍廟), one of Taipei’s most important places of worship, and Hsinchu’s City God Temple (新竹城隍廟), the headquarters of all City God Temples in Taiwan, I figured it was about time to do another deep dive about one of the nation’s other ‘most influential’ City God temples - the one that started it all, namely the Taiwan Prefectural City God Temple (臺灣府城隍廟) in Tainan. 

With a history spanning several centuries, the temple originated during the Kingdom of Tungning era, and has continued to thrive through the Qing era, the Japanese era, and the current Republic of China era.

To put it simply, this City God temple has lived through some of the most tumultuous periods of Taiwan’s modern history, and continues to stand today as one of the nation’s most important places of worship, a national treasure if you will.

That being said, when you see someone claim that it’s three and a half centuries old, it’s true, but not necessarily true at the same time. 

Link: List of City God Temples in Taiwan 臺灣城隍廟列表 (Wiki)

Surprisingly, there are few articles that go into much detail about this important place of worship, both in Chinese or English, so I’ll be doing a bit of a deep dive on this one having spent a considerable amount of time researching its history and architectural design. So with that in mind, I’m just going to get right into it. 

Taiwan Prefectural City God Temple (臺灣府城隍廟)

Few places of worship (or any building for that matter) in Taiwan can claim a history of over three and a half centuries, but if you’re looking for some, look no further than the southern city of Tainan

Tainan as an organized city has changed considerably over the various periods of Taiwan’s modern development, but starting from the Dutch era, the city became an important trading port for the European powers. Things changed considerably however when Koxinga (鄭成功) and his band of pirate ships showed up and forcibly removed the Dutch. The large fleet of ships (fleeing dynastic regime change back in China) arrived in Taiwan hoping to ‘regroup’ in order to go back to China and restore the Ming Emperor.

Koxinga, and his family quickly established a Chinese-style settlement in Tainan, which (at that time) was referred to as ’Hú-siâ’ (府城) in Hokkien, which is where the temple derives its name.

While developing the city, which would ultimately become the capital of the Kingdom of Tunging (東寧王國), it was important for the ruling class that a ‘Chinese style societal structure’ was imposed on the people of the newly formed kingdom. So, they founded a Confucius Temple, the first in Taiwan - which was tasked with training civil servants. It is said that Koxinga placed quite a bit of importance on Confucian thought and philosophy, and the construction of a shrine, where Imperial Examinations (科舉) could be held was important to the fledgling ‘kingdom’ seeking to maintain the traditions of the Ming dynasty.

With the Confucius Temple constructed in 1665, one of the next steps for the Zheng Family was to construct a City God Temple for which they could better instill the values of the newly formed system of governance. One of the things that you have to keep in mind about City God worship (I’ll explain more later) is that the City God is essentially a celestial civil servant, like a governor or a mayor - and it is the role of his court to oversee everything that is taking place within his territorial boundaries. The human rulers of a specific area were required to pay homage to the local City God, while at the same time using his example to teach people about traditional Chinese styles of governance. That being said, life in the early days of an undeveloped Tainan was harsh, and even Koxinga himself died of Malaria, so even though City God worship was beneficial to the ruling elite, it might have also been to their detriment if they weren’t living in a military dictatorship.

Constructed in 1669 as the “Sêng-thian-hú Prefectural City God Temple” (承天府城隍廟), the temple, like its Confucius Temple counterpart, was the first of its kind in Taiwan, and the City God enshrined within was considered to be the highest ranking in the ‘prefecture’, which pretty much meant the entire island of Taiwan. 

Language note: The words “Sêng-thian-hú” are the Taiwanese Hokkien pronunciation for “Cheng-tian fu” (承天府), which was the term used at the time to refer to the governing territory of Taiwan. Similarly, Chinese capitals Nanjing (南京) and Beijing (北京) were referred to as “Ying-tian fu” (應天府) and “Shun-tian fu” (順天府) respectively.

When the temple was constructed over three and a half centuries ago, it was a considerably smaller place of worship than it appears today - As you’ll see in the timeline provided below, there have been numerous occasions where the temple was renovated, expanded upon and restored, culminating in it doubling in size with additional shrines and decorations added later. 

With regard to architectural changes though, I’ll touch more on that later.

What I think is important to note about the City God temple was the special relationship it maintained with regard to the ever-changing political situation over the various eras of Taiwan’s modern history. The temple was regarded as the most important City God temple during the Kingdom of Tungning era, which lasted from 1661–1683. When the Qing took control of Taiwan, it maintained its role as the highest-ranking shrine in Taiwan until 1891 when the Qing court officially recognized the Hsinchu City God Temple as the highest-ranking temple in Taiwan. Not much changed in this regard during the Japanese-era, but when the Chinese Nationalists took control of Taiwan, they constructed the “Taiwan Provincial City God Temple” (臺灣省城隍廟) in Taipei and attempted to shift the balance of power away from the Hsinchu temple, but it doesn’t really seem like many actually paid attention to those efforts. 

These days we have a bit of a delicate situation with three high-ranking City God’s presiding over the nation - but when it comes to people’s attitudes about these temples, the Hsinchu Temple is probably the most popular as it maintains its role as the ‘headquarters’ of all of Taiwan’s nearly one-hundred City God temples. The Tainan temple on the other hand is highly respected as it is the first of its kind in Taiwan, and its history and architectural design are considered to be a national treasure, which is why it has been permitted to keep its name.

And the temple in Taipei… Well, I suppose it was useful for propaganda purposes, but it’s neither historic, nor as widely frequented as the other two.  

Below, I’ve created a timeline of some of the most important events in the temple’s long history: 

Timeline

  • 1661 (永曆15年) - The Kingdom of Tungning (東寧王國) is established in Tainan by Koxinga and his  army of Ming loyalists. 

  • 1665 (康熙4年) - The Tainan Confucius Temple is officially established nearby in an effort to promote Ming Dynasty-style governance and cultivating a local civil service. 

  • 1669 (永曆23年) - The “Chengtian Prefectural City God Temple” (承天府城隍廟) is constructed in an eastern area of the city then known as ‘Tong-an-hong’ (東安坊) near the East Gate (東門). 

  • 1683 (康熙22年) - The Kingdom of Tungning is annexed by the Qing, who take control of parts of Taiwan. 

  • 1693 (康熙32年) - The temple undergoes its first of many renovation and restoration projects. 

  • 1752 (乾隆17年) - Official records indicate that the renovation project started decades earlier is completed and the the temple design is officially a ‘Two Hall’ (兩段式廟宇) layout.

  • 1758 (乾隆24年) - 1777 (乾隆42年) - Once again, the temple is renovated and expanded on and pretty much doubles in size transforming into the layout that we see today (四進兩廂房式的廟宇建築). 

  • 1827 (道光7年) - The temple undergoes a period of repair (natural disaster related)

  • 1828 (道光8年) - The temple is officially renamed “Taiwan Prefectural City God Temple” (臺灣府城隍廟). 

  • 1862 (同治元年) - The temple undergoes a period of repair (natural disaster related)

  • 1890 (光緒16年) - The temple undergoes a period of repair (natural disaster related)

  • 1891 (光緒17年) - Hsinchu is upgraded as a city in Taipei Prefecture, and the Hsinchu City God temple is upgraded into a prefectural-level temple. 

  • 1895 (明知28年) - Japan takes control of Taiwan.

  • 1907 (明知40年) - Due to Japan’s urban renewal plans, the road in front of the temple is modernized and widened for cars, reducing the size of the front court yard. 

  • 1934 (昭和9年) - The temple undergoes another period of extensive restoration and modernization with celebrations held at the end of the project. 

  • 1937 (昭和12年) - The '爾來了’ plaque is gifted to the temple. 

  • 1945 (民國34年) - Japan surrenders control of Taiwan and the temple starts a long restoration project. 

  • 1947 (民國36年) - The Taiwan Provincial City God Temple (臺灣省城隍廟) is constructed in Taipei and the City God once again is ranked the highest in Taiwan, another awkward situation. 

  • 1952 (民國41年) - After seven years, the restoration project is finally completed. 

  • 1975 (民國64年) - The temple undergoes another period of restoration and new Door Gods are added by a famed local artist named Pan Lishui. 

  • 1982 (民國71年) - Qingnian Road is widened to 15m, reducing the size of the front courtyard (廟埕) and putting the road next to the front door. 

  • 1983 (民國85年) - The temple undergoes a period of restoration paid for by the government.

  • 2005 (民國94年) - The temple is officially designated as a protected historic site (國定古蹟).  

Now that we’ve talked a bit about the history of this temple, to better understand the deities enshrined within, I’ll introduce them individually as briefly as I can. Before I do, keep in mind that even though this temple is primarily a Chinese Folk Religion place of worship, you’re also going to find figures commonly associated with Taoism and Buddhism. The great thing about this is that unlike other areas around the world, here in Taiwan the mixing of religious traditions isn’t a big deal, and everyone has happily gotten along for the past few hundred years. 

The City God (城隍爺)

Most often referred to as the City God (城隍) in English, "Cheng Huang Ye" (城隍爺) is an influential figure in Taoism, and even though he’s considered a ‘tutelary’ deity (and isn’t one of the figures that frequents the Jade Emperor’s celestial court), he is still an important figure within the hierarchy of deities, especially within Chinese Folk Religion.  

Worship of the City God is thought to have originated over two thousand years ago, but is a religious tradition that has evolved over time with changes in political ideology, in addition to societal changes, and the concept of a modern city or town. Once a minor figure within Chinese Folk Religion, worship of the City God was popularized during the late stages of the Ming Dynasty, and continued well into the Qing Dynasty.

Considered to be a protector deity, the City God acts as a liaison between the living and the supernatural and plays an important role in assisting the earthly bureaucracy in making the ‘right’ decisions in addition to assisting governments in maintaining order. The function of the City God, whose name literally translates as the god of "walls and moats" (城 means 'city' while 隍 is a 'moat') was to act as a supernatural 'magistrate' who would make decisions about a city's governance (along with human colleagues). He was also responsible for acting as a judge for those citizens who lived within the borders of the city, in addition to working to keep it safe.

Essentially, the City God is not unlike a traditional court official governing from a throne room with a long list of assistants helping to maintain order. As a supernatural magistrate, City God shrines typically appear in a similar design to what you’d expect from a throne room, and the City God is always surrounded by his officials and protectors. From his throne room, the City God would help to oversee development of the city and its defense, and assist in solving issues for the citizens living within his jurisdiction and more importantly handing out judgement for those who have done wrong. 

Link: City God | 城隍 (Wiki)

The traditional role of the City God has evolved over time and these days fills the role of an ‘all-purpose’ deity who holds authority with regard to matters of life and death within his specific territory, but also offers assistance to people suffering from poor health, or other contemporary issues. With the societal shifts mentioned above, the City God has changed with the times and has transformed from a simple village guardian to a figure regarded as a protector deity of the modern-nation-state. 

One area that sets the City God apart from many of his supernatural colleagues is that in the early days of City God worship, if people prayed for rain and the god failed to 'bring the rain', it was within their ability to hold the god 'accountable' and punish him. Punishments for such heinous inaction on the part of the City God could include leaving his statue out in the hot sun, or having the local governor or magistrate whip him.

This is something that is pretty much unfathomable for the high-ranking members of the Jade Emperor’s Celestial Court, but is an interesting concept where even supernatural beings are able to be held accountable for not holding up their end of the bargain!

These days, worship of the City God has changed considerably, and the notion of dragging him out of his throne room to torture him is probably impossible. Even here in Taiwan where there are ninety-five temples dedicated in his honor, no one mistreated any of his statues during the most recent several-year long drought which caused water shortages around the country.

One thing that most people don’t actually realize about the City God is that his supernatural powers are divided up based on the area that he represents, which is something that is quite significant to this temple; To put it simply, if you come across a City God temple in a small town or city, his influence isn’t as powerful as that of a ‘prefectural’ or ‘national-level’ version.

The City God’s official divisions are as follows: 

  1. National Level City God (都城隍、府城隍), known formally as the Duke Xiang (享公爵)

  2. State / Provincial Level City God (州城隍), known formally as the Marquis of Xiang (享侯爵)

  3. County / Town Level City God (縣城隍), known formally as the Earl of Xiang (享伯爵)

Given that this is the ‘Taiwan Prefectural City God Temple’, the City God that is enshrined within is the National Level City God, who is regarded as the “Duke of Wei” (衛靈公) and is one of the highest ranking in Taiwan. 

Having already read the history of the temple above, you’ll know that when it was first constructed, during the short-lived Kingdom of Tungning era, where its purpose was to serve in the capital of the kingdom, which was located in present-day Tainan. With that in mind, it’s important to note that there is also a ‘Duke of Wei’ level City God in the Hsinchu City God Temple, which is currently the most influential City God temple in Taiwan as it acts as the headquarters for the rest.

Ultimately when it comes to the City God, there is a considerable amount of politics that needs to be taken into consideration, and that is usually something that takes place here with us humans who use these images to our own advantage.  

The Civil and Martial Judges (文武判官)

Accompanying the City God in the main shrine of the temple you’ll find standing statues of two of the City God’s most important officials, the Civil and Martial Judges. Starting on the right, you’ll find the “Civil Judge” (文判官) with the ‘book of life and death’ (生死簿) in one hand and a brush in the other. The function of the Civil Judge is to record both the good and bad deeds in ones life and judge them accordingly when they pass away. On the left, you’ll find the “Martial Judge” (武判官), who is responsible for the enforcement of the City God’s judgements. Holding a mace in his left hand, this judge is a much more opposing and serious-looking figure and is responsible for the scarier aspects of a City God’s duties.  

The City God’s Twenty-Four Officials (二十四司 / 司爺)

Located within a glass-covered compartment on walls to the left and right of the main shrine you’ll find twenty-four statues of the rest of the City God’s spiritual assistants. According to tradition, the twenty-four officials are an imitation of the ancient official system of governance in China with each of the officials performing a specific duty. In a contemporary sense, they are basically ‘department heads’ or ministers of each of their respective bureaus. For brevity, I won’t be going into detail about each of their names or their responsibilities, but for example you’ll find someone who takes care of labor rights, household rights, education, national defense, etc.

For reference: Their names are as follows: 陰陽司、速報司、稽查司、賞善司、罰惡司、註福司、註壽司、功曹司、良願司、提刑司、地獄司、驅疫司、感應司、文書司、檢簿司、掌案司、考功司、保安司、查過司、學政司、典籍司、督糧司、巡政司、儀禮司。

Unfortunately there isn’t very much information available about these guys in English, so if I find some time in the future, I might go into a bit more detail about them with a dedicated article. They’re actually quite interesting and are essentially a supernatural mirror into the way people perceived governance a thousand or more years ago.  

Generals Fan and Hsieh (范謝將軍)

Located at the entrance to the temple, you’ll find shrines dedicated to General Fan (范將軍) and General Hsieh (謝將軍), who together are more commonly known as the “Seventh and Eighth Lords” (七爺八爺), or the “Black and White Impermanence” (黑白無常), and are common figures within Taiwan’s religious scene, especially at temple festivals.

Often appearing in parades with long waving hands, the two generals are important members of the City Gods court and are charged with carrying out the task of escorting the dead to trial to be judged by the City God. 

Link: 范謝將軍 (Wiki)

How does one go about telling the two generals apart? 

Well, their name “Black and White Impermanence” as mentioned above is probably one of the best indications given that one of the generals appears in white while the other is black. General Hsieh, who greets you at the entrance to the temple (right side) is tall and thin, and wears while robes with long eyebrows and a beard. His counterpart, General Fan, on the other hand is short and chubby with dark skin and a black robe. 

Given that the two of these generals play an important role in carrying out the judgements of the City God, (especially with regard to the afterlife), having them at the front door is a constant reminder to anyone who enters that they should be on their best behavior. 

General Hsieh: Wearing white robes and holding a feather fan in his hand. 

General Fan: Wearing black robes and holding a square card connected to a chain that has tiger heads painted on it.

Generals Gan and Liu (甘柳將軍)

Accompanying the smaller statues of General Fan and Hsieh are two of their associates, General’s Gan (甘爺) and Liu (柳爺), who are famously part of the fierce Eight Generals (八家將), and can be commonly found roaming the streets (in human form) during temple festivals. 

Both generals are part of the “Front Line” (頭排) of the group of underworld immortals and are responsible for carrying out executions.

Interestingly, they take turns supervising people’s good and bad deeds during the day, which means that you won’t often find them appearing together unless there is an important event. 

In statue form, they appear quite menacing, but when they’re in human form in front of you on the street with their weapons used for torture, they’re even scarier. Still, they’re part of one of the coolest aspects of Taiwan temple culture, and their appearance at any event is an important occasion. 

The City God's Wife (城隍夫人)

In the rear hall, you’ll find a second City God-related shrine dedicated to his wife, who is known simply as “The City God’s Wife.”

Despite the obvious arguments of gender inequality that come with this, the City God's Wife is an important fixture within any City God temple, and a temple dedicated to the City God couldn’t be complete without a shrine to his wife, who also performs official state functions like her husband. 

While the City God is busy being the all-important political figure, his wife deals with matters of the heart and is known as a ‘Chinese Cupid’ of sorts. Tradition has it that if you’re praying for love, marriage or having children, she’s the one you’ll want to visit in order to take care of all your needs.

Making things even better, if your husband has undesirable habits such as gambling, drinking or sleeping around - she'll also help take care of that!

While it may come across as a sexist tradition to some, the City God's wife is highly respected, and with a palace of her own, she’s just as important as the City God himself. And as mentioned above, taking into consideration that these temples are often a reflection of the ancient Chinese court-system, their shrines mirror that of the roles that leaders of the past would have had.

Interestingly, in many City God temples you’ll often find photos of happy couples posted nearby the shrine to the City God’s wife thanking her for her assistance in helping people to find true love. 

In the case of this temple, the City God’s Wife is located in the Rear Shrine (後殿), but she isn’t located in the main shrine in the centre as you’ll find in other City God temples. Her shrine is to the right of the main shrine, and in another departure from what you’d typically see in one of her shrines, she is accompanied by a statue of her husband, who sits side-by-side with her. 

The Goddess of Child Birth (註生娘娘)

Following along with shrines that are predominately dedicated to women, visitors will find a statue dedicated to the ‘Goddess of Childbirth’, also known as the ‘Goddess of Fertility’ (註生娘娘), who is of the most highly respected fertility deities in Chinese Folk Religion, especially for those hailing from the Southern Fujian region of China - where many of the first immigrants to Taiwan originated. 

Holding a notebook in one hand and a brush in the other, she is in charge of recording the births of every household, and does her best to assist anyone having trouble having children. 

Ms. Linshui (臨水夫人)

Sitting next to the Goddess of Child Birth, you’ll find another Southern Fujianese goddess, “Ms. Linshui” (臨水夫人). With regard to the English translation of her name, I decided to go with “Ms.” instead of “Wife” as is the case with the City God’s partner above.

This is due to the fact that I’m not particularly sure who her husband is supposed to be and the word “夫人” doesn’t necessarily have to mean “wife” as it was a sign of respect (for women) hundreds of years ago.  

According to legend, Ms. Linshui was a well-known Taoist priest named Chen Jinggu (陳靖姑) who became a goddess after death. Known to the Hokkien people as a protector of villages, she is also known as the patron saint of women and children.

Mazu (天上聖母)

Rounding out the shrine dedicated to Southern Fujian goddesses, I’ve saved the most important for last - Mazu (媽祖), or the Goddess of Heaven (天上聖母) is arguably the most important religious figure in Taiwan, and is regarded as the patron saint of the country.

Finding a shrine dedicated to the ‘heavenly mother’ is a pretty common thing in Taiwan, and even moreso in Tainan, but it’s important to remember that when this shrine was constructed, Mazu worship in Taiwan was still relatively new.

The statue of Mazu here certainly isn’t as grand as what you’d find at the nearby Goddess of Heaven Temple (天后宮), but given that she’s situated next to some other amazing Hokkien goddesses, its a pretty important one that represents the power and important role that women play in society.  

Guanyin (觀音菩薩)

Located within the middle shrine in the rear hall is the Buddha of Compassion, known throughout the Mandarin speaking world as Guanyin (觀音菩薩).

Within the Mahayana Buddhist tradition, the Buddha of Compassion is a Buddha who is constantly reborn with the mission to ensure that all of humanity has the opportunity to reach enlightenment. 

In Tibet, the Buddha of Compassion is none other than the Dalai Lama, but in Taiwan, China and other parts of Asia, the Buddha manifests as the mother-like Guanyin. Here in Taiwan, Guanyin is one of the most highly regarded Buddhist figures, and her worship transcends Buddhism, which is why you’ll often find shrines in her honor within Taoist and folk religion temples, like this one. 

With that in mind, as the Buddha of Compassion, whenever something bad happens, Guanyin is always one of the first religious figures that people think of, so it shouldn’t be surprising that there is a shrine in her honor in this temple.

What does surprise me however is that her shrine is located in the middle position, which in most cases should be reserved for the throne of the City God’s Wife. Unfortunately I’ve been unable to find any explanation as to why it was set up in this way. 

The Eighteen Arhats (十八羅漢)

Given that the main shrine in the rear palace is primarily dedicated to Guanyin, a Buddhist figure, you’ll find statues of the ‘eighteen disciples’ of the Buddha located along the left and right walls, with nine on each side. The eighteen arhats are interesting figures, so if you’re visiting the temple, I recommend taking a close look at each of the statues as some of them are likely to appear a bit differently than what you’d expect from one of the Buddha’s disciples. 

Like the twenty-four judges above, I won’t be going into too much detail about the arhats as there is already an ample amount of information about them online. If you’d like to know more, click one of the links below. 

Link: Eighteen Arhats | 十八羅漢 (Wiki)

Ksitigarbha (地藏菩薩)

Kṣitigarbha Buddha, known in Taiwan and China as “Dizang” (地藏菩薩), and Japan as “Jizo”(じぞうぼさつ), like Guanyin mentioned above is another Buddha who has vowed to continue being reborn until his mission is complete. In this case though, Ksitigarbha’s mission is to ensure that all of the people suffering through ‘karmic hell’ are eventually guided through to enlightenment. The role this Buddha plays in countries across Asia differs slightly, but taking into consideration how Taiwan has been influenced by both Chinese and Japanese Buddhist traditions, his worship tends to be a mixture of the two.

Link: Kṣitigarbha | 地藏菩薩 (Wiki) 

In Japan, he plays a role similar to Taiwan’s Earth God (described below), and is also a protector of women and children, and pays special attention to unborn children. In the Chinese tradition, he is the person people visit to pray for blessings to the souls of their ancestors.  

The Earth God (福德正神)

Located along the passageway to the right of the rear shrine you’ll find a shrine set up another one of Taiwan’s most important deities, the Earth God (福德正神).

If I was to make an analogy about deities in Taiwan, shrines dedicated to Mazu would be a bit like Family Mart (全家) while shrines dedicated to the Earth God are like 7-11 convenience stores. This is to say that there are certainly more 7-11’s around the country, but Family Mart is still pretty awesome.

Even though Mazu is regarded as the patron saint of Taiwan, the Earth God remains to be one of the most highly worshiped deities around the country, and temples and shrines in his honor can be found pretty much everywhere. Shrines to the Earth God are likely to be found in almost every major temple, so even though the shrine here isn’t at the forefront of the temple, his inclusion is still a necessity.

Accompanying the Earth God is one of my favorite folk religion figures, the Tiger General (虎爺將軍), who you’ll find located just below the shrine to the Earth God. Legend has it that the Tiger General is so ferocious that only the Earth God can contain him. While it may appear that the Tiger General is the Earth God’s pet, I wouldn’t say something like that out loud.

When it comes to evil spirits, the Tiger General is especially skilled at scaring them off. He’s also known as the protector of children, and is known for his skills when it comes to helping people make money. 

The God of Matchmaking (月下老人)

Last but not least, the temple features a modest shrine to the ‘God of Matchmaking’, known literally as the “Old Man Under the Moon” (月下老人) or “Yue Lao” (月老). You might be thinking, “Hey doesn’t the City God’s Wife already cover that?”, and you’d be right. But within Chinese Folk Religious traditions, the God of Matchmaking is your go-to person for all romance-related problems, whereas the City God’s wife focuses much of her power on taking care of women. 

The shrine to the God of Matchmaking is located along the western wall of the rear hall, and you’ll notice that there are lots of photos of couples next to the shrine. Sometimes the photos of these couples are fun to look at, because they’re all people who visited the shrine looking for love, and came back later to thank the god when they found someone. 

Architectural Design

Even though the layout of the temple has changed considerably over the past three and a half centuries, it continues to maintain what you’d consider a traditional architectural design. Constructed in a North-facing-South (座北朝南) direction, the layout consists of ‘three hall and two-passage-way’ design (三殿兩護龍). What this means in layman's terms is that the temple was constructed according to Feng Shui, and is rectangular in shape with three different sections, a common design for temples.

With regard to the three ‘halls’ (殿), the front reception area (山門) acts as the one of the halls, while the City God shrine is located in the ‘Main Hall’ (正殿), and the ‘Rear Hall’ (後殿) is located behind that and features another shrine room. The two ‘passage ways’ on the other hand are located along the east and west-side walls, and in contemporary terms would be referred to simply as ‘walkways’ (走廊), but in a folk religion setting they are given the official name, ‘protector dragons’ (護龍), and allow visitors to make their way from the front entrance all the way to the rear courtyard in a counter-clockwise direction.

Starting from the front of the temple, you’ll find that the entrance has three doors, known locally as the Dragon Door (龍門), Middle Door (中門) and Tiger door (虎門). Located on either side of the Middle Door you’ll find a pair of beautifully carved Stone Lion Guardians (石獅), each of which date back to 1937 and amazingly continue to have their Japanese-era dates displayed on the base, which reads “Showa Era Year 12” (昭和丁丑). 

The roof of the front hall is designed with a traditional single-layered swallow-tail design (單脊燕尾造型), and is decorated with green porcelain dragons on each of its rising ridges. On the apex of the roof you’ll find the famed ‘Sanxing’ (三星) deities Fu, Lu and Shou (福祿壽) who are considered to the be embodiment of ‘Fortune’ (福), Prosperity (祿), and Longevity (壽), and are commonly found on temple roofs all across Taiwan. You’ll also find other cut-porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕) along the roof, which have become indicative of traditional Hokkien-style architecture in Taiwan.   

Links: Sanxing | 三星 | Hokkien Architecture | 燕尾脊 (Wiki) 

It’s not often that I actually learn new words when I write these articles, but as you enter the temple you are met with an area reserved for prayers referred to as a ‘Chuan-tang prayer pavilion’ (川堂拜亭), admittedly a loose translation.

This part of the temple features an area where guests are free to sit on one of the provided cushions to worship the City God. The reason why I’m learning a new word here is due to the fact that these prayer areas aren’t as common in temples anymore as most people complete their prayers while standing. 

Coincidentally in a lot of temples, this particular area would be a roofless court-like area that allows for natural light to come into the temple and the burning incense to leave. However, as this is a City God Temple, it differs in its design as temples like this are traditionally constructed to be a bit ‘darker’ than your average temple, creating what should be a more solemn and mysterious space like that of a governmental office.

With this in mind, you’ll probably also notice that the elaborate designs and bright gold decorations that you find in other Taiwanese temples aren’t utilized here as the City God prefers a much more subtle throne room given that he has little use for luxurious decorations.

Taking into consideration that there is an open space along the eastern and western walls between the Front Hall and the Main Hall, its important to take note of the network of pillars located between the ‘Chuan-tang’ pavilion and the Main Hall. In total there are eight stone pillars, with four on each side, and while they are decorative they serve a more functional purpose in helping to keep the roof above in place. 

Once you’ve passed through the Main Hall and go to the rear, you’ll find a much more open space  and brighter space featuring an open roof that allows an ample amount of natural light into the rear shrine room. One of my favorite features of the rear hall though isn’t its more bright and spacious design but the round open passage doors along the eastern and western walls. These round doors can be found in some of Taiwan’s older places of worship, but it is an architectural design that has been lost over time, which is a shame. 

Although the rear hall is a lot more spacious and brighter, it is also a bit cramped as it features three shrines in the center, with two more to their sides and another against the wall. With more than eighteen deities featured within the rear hall, its spaciousness can also come across as a bit busy, especially if there are a lot of people visiting. 

Finally, if you continue walking beyond the rear hall to the back of the temple you’ll come across something that is quite odd in Taiwan - grass!

The temple is home to a ‘backyard’ of sorts where there is a very nice public washroom, and a large paper burner next to a garden with grass and a beautiful Chinese-style open air pavilion. The area is quite nice, but with the recent construction of a luxury apartment building to the rear of the temple, the view from the garden isn’t as nice as I’m sure it used to be.

That being said, if you’re doing a walking tour of the area and require a nice washroom to relieve yourself, I highly recommend this one! 

While this is more of a general description of the architectural design of the temple, I do want to focus on a few of the decorative elements that really stand out. If you visit, it’s important that you take note of these things as they’re important cultural relics here in Taiwan. 

Stone and Wood Carvings (石雕/木雕)

While the temple might differ from other temples in Taiwan with regard to its decorative elements, it’s important to note that the major difference is that it doesn’t go over the top. The decorative elements in the temple are subdued, but also aged at the same time. So while you don’t experience the over-saturation of color that you get at most temples, if you pay close attention, you’re going to notice that there is considerable artistic mastery on display throughout the temple, but the devil is in the details, and you really have to take some time to notice it. 

With regard to the stone carvings, you’ll want to pay attention to the pillars mentioned above, each of which feature stone carvings. Located between the Middle Door at the front entrance you’ll find two beautifully carved dragon pillars and several murals along the walls nearby.

Likewise along the eastern and western walls between the Front Hall and the Main Hall you’ll find two large murals of a dragon (天井龍堵石刻) and a tiger (天井虎堵石刻). The murals position, following the tradition of the ‘dragon’ door and the ‘tiger’ door with the dragon on the right side and the tiger on the left. 

When it comes to the wooden carvings, you’ll have to look to the sky to find them. The wooden carvings, which have been masterfully crafted are located along along the network of trusses and beams that help to keep the roof in place and distribute its weight. You are going to find various designs within the carvings, which are usually of ancient Chinese mythical creatures, but are all really beautiful and have been part of the temple for hundreds of years.

The most obvious of all the wood carvings, or at least the one that is at eye-level is the beautifully crafted wooden panel window (木雕門版) on either side of the middle door. When it comes to these hand-carved wooden panel windows, they’re somewhat of a dying art in Taiwan, and in most cases you’ll find them today made of cement, which is a shame.

For foreign visitors looking at the mural, you might think its just a hodge-podge of images, but in actuality both murals, if put together are telling the story of the ‘Eight Immortals Crossing the Sea’ which is one of the most popular Taoist myths. 

Link: The Eight Immortals Cross the Sea (The Daoist Encyclopedia)

The Iconic Plaque (爾來了匾額)

As soon as you enter the temple, you’re met with one of it’s most well-known, and highly-regarded decorations, the “You’re finally here!” plaque.

Considered to be one of Tainan’s ‘four famous plaques’ (臺南四大名匾), it is one of those things that most locals in Taiwan are aware of, even before they visit the shrine as it is often covered in history textbooks in Taiwan’s schools.

For reference: The other three plaques are: 「一」at Tiantan Temple (天壇), 「了然世界」at Zhuxi Temple (竹溪寺), and「大丈夫」at the Martial Temple (祀典武廟). 

The black plaque features beautiful golden calligraphy that, as mentioned above, translates as “You’re finally here!” (爾來了) a phrase that is used somewhat ironically, or in a condescending tone.

The reason for this is quite simple - the City God is pretty much always watching you, and he knows the good things you’ve done, as well as the bad. For westerners, I guess this is comparable to Santa Claus, but unfortunately for children Santa doesn’t have a temple where you can go to apologize for your transgressions. As a judicial deity, the City God has control over Yin and Yang (陰陽), and its his role to deal out demerits for any karmic misdeeds in your life.

So, when people arrive and see this beautiful plaque, its a reminder that you not only have to be a better, more righteous person. You should likewise come often to confess those sins to the City God so that when you pass away, your demerits don’t outweigh the good things that you’ve accomplished. 

The Abacus (大算盤) 

Located in the rafters directly opposite the plaque, you’ll find a giant abacus, which is another one of the most important decorative elements of the temple. Considered to be one of the City God’s most important tools upon which he comes to a conclusion about a person’s life, the abacus is a reminder to people, like the plaque, that you should always be on your best behavior. 

Both the plaque and the abacus were donated to the temple upon the completion of a major restoration project in 1937

Door Gods (門神)

The Door Gods at the shrine are classified as“Martial” (武將) and “Literary” (文官) with Qin Shubao (秦瓊) and his counterpart Yuchi Gong (尉遲恭) located on the middle door (中門). Qin is the lighter-skinned man carrying a sword while Yuchi has dark skin and carries batons.

The two figures are legendary figures who lived the Tang Dynasty (唐朝), and are commonly displayed as door gods on temples thanks to a story that explains how they once stood guard at the door of the emperors bedroom to protect him from angry ghosts, allowing him to rest peacefully.

On the Dragon Door (龍門), you’ll find a ‘Eunuch’ (宦官) holding a peony and an incense burner while the Tiger Door (虎門) on the other side features a ‘Palace Lady’ (宮女) holding a teapot. Both of these door gods are used to indicate that there is a royal palace on the inside. 

Even though the temple itself is hundreds of years old, these beautifully painted Door Gods only date back to 1976 when they were repainted by famed Tainan artist Phuann Lē-tsuí (潘麗水), whose work can be viewed all over Taiwan today in many of the nations most important places of worship. 

Link: Pan Li-shui's art (The Bradt Taiwan Taiwan Guide)

Getting There

 

Address: No. 133, Qingnian Rd., West Central Dist., Tainan City (臺南市中西區青年路133號)

GPS: 120.20906/22.991987

Located a short distance from Tainan Train Station, getting to the City God Temple is relatively easy if you’re coming from out of town.

That being said, if you’re staying closer to some of the city’s larger attractions like the Confucius Temple, or Chikan Tower, there is a bit of a distance between them. Unfortunately, given the temple’s proximity to the railway station, there aren’t too many buses available that will bring you directly to the temple. 

Train / High Speed Rail

If you’re taking a train to Tainan, the temple is less than a ten minute walk away from the railway station, so if you’re not carrying too much with you, you’ll probably just want to make your way on foot. To get there, you’ll turn left from the station front and walk down Beimen Road (北門路) until you reach Qingnian Road (青年路) where you’ll turn right and walk until you get to the temple. 

If you’re arriving in Tainan from the High Speed Railway Station (台南高鐵站), you’ll have to first take the free shuttle bus to the Tainan Railway Station and then follow the steps above. 

Bus

Most local travel sites recommend you take Bus #2, 5, 6, 7, 15, 19, 25, or 26 and get off at the Tang Te-chang Memorial Park bus stop (民生綠園站) and either walk or take a taxi from there. One thing you’ll want to note is that the park itself is located within a traffic circle, so when you get off the bus you have to be careful about which direction you head in when you are making your way toward the temple. 

Link: Tainan City Bus Website

Scooter / Bicycle

While in Tainan you unfortunately won’t have access to Youbikes like other cities around the country, but the city has its own version called “T-Bike,” which you are encouraged to make use of during your visit. Likewise, if you have a drivers license you can also sign up for the convenient GoShare scooter service that’ll allow you to cheaply scoot around the city. 

Links: GoShare | T-Bike

As is the case in most of Taiwan’s large cities, you’ll also find scooter rental shops near the railway station where you can rent a scooter for the duration of your stay. The prices per day are usually pretty fair, but if you don’t have a local license, you might be refused. 

If you’re asking me, Tainan is a very walkable city and one of the best things about a visit to the city is that as you walk around town you’re able to find so many secret crevices in alleys that are hidden from your average tourist. With a distance of less then 10-20 minutes walking from anywhere you’ll want to visit in the historic district, you’ll certainly enjoy your visit better if you walk. 

While in Tainan, you’ll also want to check out the Koxinga Shrine (延平郡王祠), the Confucius Temple (台南孔廟), and the Tainan Martial Arts Hall (台南武德殿), all of which are nearby. Likewise, you may have already heard that it’s pretty much the culinary capital of Taiwan, so if you are wondering where or what to eat, I recommend checking out this article about how to Eat Like a Local in Tainan to help guide you through the city.

Hours: Open daily from 06:00 - 21:00

References

  1. 臺灣府城隍廟 (TW CITY GOD)

  2. 臺灣府城隍廟 (Wiki)

  3. 臺灣府城隍廟 (Taiwan Gods) 

  4. 臺灣府城隍廟 (Taiwan Digital Archives)

  5. 臺灣府城隍廟 (臺南宗教藝術)

  6. 臺灣府城隍廟 (台灣文化部)

  7. 臺灣府城隍廟 (台南咬一口)

  8. 台南-台灣府城隍廟 (Just a Balcony)

  9. 台灣城隍廟{二} (台南顯佑堂安溪城隍爺的部落格)

  10. Taiwan Fu City God Temple (TW CITY GOD)

  11. Taiwan City God Temple / 臺灣府城隍廟 (Travel Tainan / 台南旅遊網)

  12. City God Temples (Premier Hotels)

  13. Chenghuang—City God, Judge, and Underworld Official (Digital Taiwan)


The role of Public-Private Partnerships in Conserving Historic Buildings in Taiwan

When I first started writing about all of these historic buildings from the Japanese Colonial Era a few years back, I hadn’t realized that my interest in these buildings was something that was widely shared and that the central and local governments all across Taiwan were simultaneously in the process of investing a lot of time and money into their restoration. 

Fast forward more than five years and it’s almost like they want to ensure that this little project of mine is never going to end. 

Now that there are so many exciting things happening with regard to the restoration of historic places of interest all across the country, I’ve had to keep my ears close to the ground and have become rather adept at keeping track of all the on-going and future restoration projects. So when I plan my monthly schedule, one of the things that I make sure to keep in mind is all of the newly restored buildings that are opening to the public, so that I can get to them in a timely manner.

That being said, I’ve had this burning question in the back of my mind about these things for quite some time.

Maybe it’s just because I’m getting older and these are the things that you think about as you age.

The government has been very noticeably busy in its efforts restoring a very long list of historic structures all over the country, and I’m sure you can imagine, each of which tends to be quite expensive. 

So where does all the money come from and how can the government continue to invest so much in these historic properties when they could be investing more elsewhere?

Taiwan currently enjoys a very healthy and active democratic environment where transparency and accountability have become major considerations for taxpayers wanting to ensure that their hard-earned dollars are being spent responsibly. Gone are the days of the former authoritarian-era where the government could do pretty much whatever it wanted and get away with it.  

Understandably, given the controversial history of the five decades of Japan’s colonial rule, it shouldn’t come as a huge surprise that society is often divided on the subject of restoring these old buildings. Certainly, not everyone agrees that precious public funds should be spent on the restoration of all of these Japanese-era structures around the country.  

This means that there is a considerable amount of bureaucracy and red-tape involved in all of these projects, and from start to finish, the public is consulted and constantly kept informed (if they are so inclined to pay attention that is).

Obviously the government doesn’t focus entirely on buildings from the Japanese-era with all of these restoration projects. There are a multitude of others that focus on Indigenous cultural preservation as well as the restoration of buildings that date back even further to the Qing Dynasty and beyond.

My focus here though is on the buildings remaining from the colonial era.

To better illustrate the point of what I’m going to try to make, allow me for a moment to use the recent completion (and re-opening) of the Zhongli Police and Teachers dormitories as an example.

Both the Zhongli Teachers Dorms and the nearby Police Dorms have been converted into culture parks (文化公園) by the Taoyuan City Government. Both of these parks consist of three former Japanese-era dormitories, which have been completely restored and re-opened to the public.

This means that within a city block there are currently six historic buildings that have been restored and reopened. 

To stay accountable to the public, the government can’t just leave the buildings empty, which means that they have to serve some purpose.

The problem for the government in this case is that they’ve already spent a considerable amount of money in Zhongli (中壢區), as well as in Taoyuan (桃園區), Daxi (大溪區) and other districts restoring similar historic buildings.

With so many new culture parks, I’m sure you can understand that they have been hard-pressed to come up with sustainable ideas for what to do with all these buildings. 

So, in the case of both of these parks (in addition to many others around the country), you’ll find that the government has reserved space for historic and cultural displays in some of the buildings while also making use of existing laws to allow local entrepreneurs to set up shop within the others.

Relaxing at the Zhongli Elementary Teachers Dorm

The Zhongli Police Dorm Culture Park currently features two buildings dedicated to local cultural and historic exhibitions while the other is currently occupied by a classy hot pot restaurant. The Teachers Dorms likewise feature similar exhibition space, but one of the buildings is currently home to a nice coffeeshop.

This is something that has been happening en-masse all over the country as the government has been investing heavily in buildings of cultural and historical significance. 

So here’s the purpose of this case study: In order to remain accountable and transparent, as well as attempting to attract a constant flow of visitors to these newly established culture parks, local governments have started to employ ‘operational transfer’ agreements for these historic properties.

This gives entrepreneurs an opportunity to set up shop in one of these recently restored buildings and provides the government with revenue in order to recoup some of their investment over time.

Japanese dorm prior to restoration

Today, I’m going to focus on how these operational transfer schemes work, because they have become an integral part of the cultural and historic preservation process and are an extremely important tool which allows the government to continue contributing funds for the preservation of historic buildings.

This is something that we can all benefit from for generations to come.

To do this, I’ll be using a combination of the dorms mentioned above as well as the beautiful Taimali Coffee Shop (太麻里文創咖啡館) in Taitung as examples of how these agreements work, and how they can be successful. 

As is the case with the things I find interesting, very little has been covered on the topic in English, or even mentioned very often in Chinese for that matter, so the information I’m going to be providing here required quite a bit of translation and research directly from government-provided resources.

I hope you’ll find it interesting, too!

Public-Private Partnerships in Taiwan

Families enjoying lunch at the newly opened Hsinchu Lakeside Ryotei

Families enjoying lunch at the newly opened Hsinchu Lakeside Ryotei

In order to better facilitate legal partnerships between the private and public sectors, the Taiwanese government makes use of the ‘Build-Operate-Transfer’ model as a method for ensuring transparency in public construction projects, and allowing for short and long-term leasing of historic properties. 

Link: Build–Operate–Transfer (Wiki)

Starting in the year 2000 (民國89年), the government passed the “Law of Private Participation in Public Construction” framework (民間參與公共建設法), which was initially meant to allow the public sector to assign publicly funded construction projects to private enterprises, and ensuring that the financial resources are efficiently made available for construction projects. 

The promulgation of this law was considered to be a win-win strategy for both the public and private sectors as it would ensure the vitality of private enterprises contracted by the government. It would also help to improve the quality of public infrastructure, and most importantly reduce the burden of government expenditures and bureaucratic red tape.

Link: Enforcement Rules of Act for Promotion of Private Participation in Infrastructure Projects | 促進民間參與公共建設法施行細則 (Ministry of Finance / 財政部)

In the two decades since the law has been enacted, it has been amended almost a dozen times (most recently in 2019) to reflect the evolving situation with regard to these partnerships, which don’t necessarily always have to involve large construction projects and huge sums of money.

Some of the recent success stories with these partnerships include none other than the construction of Taiwan’s High Speed Rail (臺灣高鐵路), Kaohsiung’s Mass Rapid Transit System (高雄捷運) and Taipei 101 (台北101), among others. 

Unfortunately, even though these policies are considered a winning strategy for interaction between the government and the private sector, there is also a dark side that has led to rampant corruption within the public procurement sector - Most often caused by government officials showing favoritism to conglomerates that are both ready and willing to bribe them.

Restaurant space at the Hsinchu Lakeside Ryotei

In one such case, Taipei City Councillor, and high-ranking Chinese Nationalist Party member Lai Su-ju (賴素如) was convicted and sentenced to ten years imprisonment for seeking NT$15 million (US $472,798) in kickbacks. In return, Lai would ensure that a ‘certain’ company would win a contract to develop the proposed Taipei Twin Towers Project (台北雙子星大樓) next the Taipei Railway Station. 

Link: Lai Su-ju guilty verdict upheld by High Court (Taipei Times) 

Even though on paper the system was set up to prevent corruption from taking place, controversies continue to persist; The Taipei Dome (臺北大巨蛋) project is another recent example of how problems can arise with the government interacting with the private sector.

In this case we have city councillors all the way up to a former president becoming complicit in the scandal. 

The ongoing case is one that has been widely covered by the media and has focused the collective anger of the public on the government, the FarGlory Group (遠雄集團) and the “deeply entrenched crony capitalism in Taiwan, with bribes paid by development companies to local politicians in order to secure lucrative infrastructure construction bids, and the use of organized crime by development companies to intimidate local opposition.” 

Link: The Taipei Dome Controversy and Issues of Entrenched Political Corruption in Taiwan (New Bloom)  

While it is important to be aware that even though mechanisms have been in place for a couple of decades, with watchdogs and amendments to the laws, corruption still rears its ugly head.

This means that “guanxi” (關係) is still a pervasive factor when awarding contracts, even in the smaller cases that are the focus of what I’m covering today.

Fortunately, what I’m focusing on here with Taiwan’s historic buildings are (considerably) smaller cases that aren’t likely to involve large corporations, bribes and kickbacks. They are however extremely competitive and are just as likely to suffer from the same issues, albeit on a much smaller scale than others.

In particular, one of the major issues when it comes to the leasing of these historic buildings is that the contracts are often awarded by local governments, which means that the mechanisms for ensuring equality and fairness may not be on par with those on the national level. This is especially the case with contracts and agreements that are more widely scrutinized when they are over a certain dollar limit.

Gift shop at the Hsinchu Lakeside Ryotei

First though, let me introduce the basic methods that the Taiwanese government has set up under the Ministry of Finance (財政部) within the framework of the “Act for Promotion of Private Participation in Infrastructure Projects” mentioned above. 

  1. Build-Operate-Transfer” BOT (由民間機構投資新建並為營運;營運期間屆滿後,移轉該建設之所有權予政府) is when the government grants a concession to a private organization to finance, build and operate a project for a specific period of time (in order to recoup its investment) before control is transferred back to the government.

  2. Build-Transfer-Operate” (由民間機構投資新建完成後,政府無償取得所有權,並由該民間機構營運;營運期間屆滿後,營運權歸還政府) essentially means that after an investment by a private organization, the government takes ownership of the property, while entrusting the organization with its operational rights for a specific period of time before control is returned to the government. There are variations on this scheme with the government eventually taking ownership of a property for free (無償BTO) and another where the government is required to reimburse the private institution for construction costs (有償BTO).

  3. Rehabilitate-Operate-Transfer” ROT (民間機構投資增建、改建及修建政府現有設施並為營運;營運期間屆滿後,營運權歸還政府) often referred to as “rehabilitate” or “restoration” in English, this is a method by which private institutions invest in the reconstruction or restoration of an existing government-owned property and operates it for a specific period of time before it is returned to government control.

  4. Operate-Transfer” OT (間機構營運政府投資興建完成之建設,營運期間屆滿後,營運權歸還政府) contracts are essentially the main focus of this case study and are a scheme for which the government invests in and completes a project and then entrusts private organizations to operate it (for a set period time) until control is eventually returned to the government or the lease is renegotiated.

  5. Build-Operate-Owner” BOO (配合國家政策,由民間機構自行備具私有土地投資新建,擁有所有權,並自為營運或委託第三人營運) are contracts that allow private institutions to invest in the construction of a new project and upon completion owning it and operating it (or entrusting a third party with its operation) with the inclusion of government oversight, which may or may not include financial incentives or tax-exempt status.

Restaurant seating at the Zhongli Police Dorms

When it comes to the leasing of historic properties that have been restored by the government and their operational control being handed over for private operation, we need to focus on the Rehabilitate-Operate-Transfer and Operate-Transfer method.

ROT/OT schemes allow the government to have a hand in the restoration of historic and culturally significant structures, as well as providing for the opportunity to lease them out for commercial use. 

The statute that governs these partnerships is outlined in Article 8, Paragraph 5 (第8條第5點) of the ‘Act for Promotion of Participation in Infrastructure Projects’ law which is as follows: 

“5. The private institution operates an infrastructure built with investment from the government. Upon expiration of the operation period, the right to operate reverts to the government;” (民間機構營運政府投資興建完成之建設,營運期間屆滿後,營運權歸還政府。)

As mentioned above, in order to help you better understand these partnerships, I’m using the Zhongli Police Dormitories as an example of how the ‘Operate-Transfer’ agreements work with regard to the leasing of historic structures to the private sector.

The reason for this is two-fold: I’ve already published articles on these dorms on two occasions, prior to their restoration and most recently after the restoration was completed.

More importantly is that the ‘licensing bid’ for the dorm (that was made available to the public) was published by the Ministry of Finance, and is easily accessible through the link below.

It provides the information necessary to help illustrate my point. 

Link: 桃園市中壢警察局日式宿舍群營運移轉案 (民間參與公共建設資訊)

Restaurant at the Zhongli Police Dorms

After a period of restoration, the Zhongli Police Dorms re-opened in 2020 as a Cultural Park which seeks to promote tourism in the area by featuring exhibitions focused on local history that are attractive to the public.

As mentioned earlier, two of the dormitories in the park have been reserved as a cultural space and their operational control is taken care of by the Taoyuan City Government’s Department of Cultural Affairs (桃園市政府文化局). 

The third (and the largest of the dorms) on the other hand was reserved for ‘private use’ as part of the government’s ‘Operate-Transfer’ program which helps to ensure that some of the public funds that were invested in the restoration of these three buildings is recouped.

The space is currently occupied by “Jing Ding House” (景町文煮), a Japanese-style restaurant and cafe operated by the ArtGo Cultural & Creative Company (雅鴿文創公司), which won the bid linked above for the operational rights for the building.

The bidding process that was published by the Ministry of Finance (in the link above) provides us with some some important information about how these operational contracts are formed. 

However, since not everyone can read Chinese, I’ll summarize below.

What we can see is that the ‘Operate-Transfer’ Agreement is licensed for a period of six years between 2019 (民國108年) and 2025 (民國114年), with the contract winner proposing a plan that would include a total investment of NT$9,757,066 (US $350,000) over that period.

As to whether or not the government will continue the lease when it is up, or make the space available to another private contractor is part of the risk that is taken when it comes to these Operational Transfer agreements. 

Similarly, unlike typical companies, which are generally free to decide if and when to close shop, if business isn’t going well, these agreements ensure that the space will be occupied for the period that the contract is valid, otherwise a large fine will be incurred. 

This obviously makes bidding for one of these projects somewhat precarious for the average person wanting to operate a business within one of those government-owned historic buildings.  

Generally speaking, for those interested in applying for one of these ‘OT’ cases that the government makes available, it is important that they pay close attention to the bids, which are published on the “Promotion of Private Participation” (民間參與公共建設資訊) website. 

Enjoying tea at the Taichung Martial Arts Hall

Each of which generally includes the following information and stipulations: 

  1. Public Announcement for bids (公告招商)

  2. Case name (案件名稱)

  3. Case Provider (主辦機關)

  4. Case Category (公共建設類別)

  5. Operational Contract Period (公告時期)

  6. Terms and Conditions for bidding (招標條件)

Most of these are pretty self-explanatory, but the frustrating part are the ‘conditions’ for bidding as they generally ensure that the majority of those who apply for the contract are automatically eliminated from contention, due to the strict stipulations that are put in place.

As I’m sure you can imagine, it is already difficult enough working with the government, but when it comes to protected historic structures, there are quite a few rules as to what you can and cannot do with the space and the liability for violating them can be quite high. 

At this point you’re probably thinking that the regulations for these OT agreements for historic structures come across as far too rigid and aren’t very cost-effective.

Surprisingly though, the opportunity to actually win a bid to operate one is low as competition is fierce.

The risks may be high, but running a business in a historic building within a culture park is an excellent one. 

The good news is that whether you’re running a coffeeshop, restaurant, bookstore, etc. You should have no problem attracting customers as people are generally interested in these spaces, and since they’re already part of what is sure to become a tourist attraction, its unlikely that there will ever be a shortage of business and/or that you’ll be able to recoup your investment.

There are of course exceptions to the rule, but it’s difficult to imagine that the majority of private companies that win these public contracts aren’t going to attempt to negotiate an extension on the lease when their time is up.

Private dining room at the Zhongli Police Dorms

What’s important to remember about the preservation of buildings of cultural and historic significance is that even though the government is willing to invest in their restoration, the involvement of governmental, non-governmental and private enterprises is required to ensure the success and viability of these projects.

If you’ve travelled anywhere in Taiwan over the past few years, you’ll have seen these OT agreements in action, but probably weren’t aware of what was going on.

Whether its one of the coffeeshops, restaurants or concert venues at the Huashan 1914 Creative Park (華山1914文化創意產業園區) in Taipei, Miyahara Ice Cream shop (宮原眼科冰淇淋) in Taichung, or any of the galleries and shops at the Pier2 Art Center (駁二藝術特區) in Kaohsiung, these partnerships have become integral in the preservation process.

So while it’s tremendous that the Taiwanese government on the local and national level has a renewed interest in the preservation of historical sites, without these public-private partnerships, it would be difficult to actually be able to preserve these heritage assets in a cost-effective way.

Most importantly these partnerships ensure that preservation continues to take place around the country and on a macro level gives the general public have more incentive to visit. 

After all, cultural parks are likely to start getting boring after you’ve seen enough of them.

Taimali Coffee (太麻里文創咖啡館) 

While I’ve had all of this in the back of my mind for quite a while, what actually cemented my interest in getting to the bottom of these Public-Private Partnership schemes was my visit to the beautiful Taimali Coffee Shop in Taitung City.

In fact, Taitung is one of the areas of Taiwan where you can see these Public-Private partnerships on display in a very noticeable way - From the shops that have set up within the Rail Art Village (鐵花村), the Taitung Sugar Factory (臺東糖廠) and the hip coffeeshops that have opened in the old dorms near the Baoting Art And Culture Center (寶町藝文中心), you’ll find that quite a few entrepreneurs are taking advantage of partnering up with the local government in promoting Taitung to the rest of the country - and the world.

This coffeeshop in particular, located within the downtown core of Taitung city (not actually in Taimali Township (太麻里鄉) to the south), is the brainchild of the famed Taiwanese Film Director Huang Chao-liang (黃朝亮), who grew up in the area and is well known for telling stories about his home. 

One of his most recent films “Han Dan” (寒單), for example was set amidst Taitung’s iconic Bombing Master Han Dan (炮炸寒單爺) festival and tells an interesting story while also highlighting one of the most important religious festivals of his hometown. 

Link: Bombing Lord Handan (Taiwan Gods)

Admittedly, what drew me to the coffeeshop wasn’t the coffee. 

I was however quite surprised to find out when I sat down that all of their coffee is locally sourced from ranches in the mountains of nearby Taimali, and that the coffeeshop was more or less a showroom for the award winning coffee beans harvested in Taitung.

The beautiful interior of Taimali Coffee

Known as “First Rays Coffee” (日升之處咖啡) and “Taimali Ocean Coffee” (太麻里海洋咖啡), the area’s coffee beans are harvested at an altitude ranging between 600m and 1000m above sea level in Taimali’s Huayuan Village (華源村), south of Taitung City.

Apparently this is also where the ‘first rays of sun’ hit Taiwan every morning, hence the name.

Given that the climate is well-suited for growing coffee, the high-quality beans that are grown in Taimali are considered to be well-balanced in their acidity, sweetness and bitterness and deliver smooth flavors.

Over the past decade, Taiwanese-grown beans have won several international awards and Taitung’s beans are helping to ensure that Taiwan’s coffee export market will continue to grow as the nation makes more of a name for itself on the market.

Most of this wouldn’t have been possible however without the leadership of Director Huang, who has not only seized upon the opportunity to open this coffeeshop, but also to help consolidate Taitung’s various coffee beans producers and promote them to the world in a professional manner.  

Link: Taimali Coffee Brewing up a Name for Itself (Taiwan Today)

Guests enjoying the coffeeshop

Given that I spend so much time sitting in coffee shops writing all of these articles, you’d think that I’d be more aware of Taiwan’s resurgence on the international coffee market, but I actually had no idea before walking into this beautiful coffee shop. All I knew was that Taiwan has one of the best coffee-drinking cultures around and that many baristas here have achieved international acclaim.  

Located within a Japanese-era Police Dormitory that dates back to 1940 (昭和15年), the Taitung City Government spent NT$12 million (US $400,000) restoring the building. A hefty figure.

Upon completion, a PPP bid was opened to the public and was initially awarded to a Japanese-style Oolong Noodle (烏龍麵) franchise, which quickly set up shop inside.

According to what we learned above, these contracts typically last for a period of five years or more, so the fact that the noodle shop closed within two years of opening says a lot.

Business may not have been very good, but given that they were willing to take the loss on their investment to close up shop years before the contract expired is pretty serious.

The early closure likewise put the local government in a difficult position as the considerable amount of public funds used to restore the space weren’t being put to good use. This and the fact that there were other restoration projects simultaneously taking place around the city meant that there was a lot of pressure to resolve the situation quickly.

With the building empty, Director Huang seized upon the opportunity and submitted a proposal to the Taitung City Government to set up the coffeeshop inside. Given the government’s investment in the restoration of the building and the recent failure of the noodle restaurant, I’m sure that the opportunity to have a well-established film director open a business that would promote locally sourced coffee to the tourists who visit Taitung was probably too good to be true. 

Re-opening in 2018 as the “Taimali Creative and Cultural Coffeeshop” (太麻里文創咖啡館), it has become one of Taitung’s hippest tourist spots, especially with young people who come to enjoy the locally grown coffee in a nostalgic setting. 

As mentioned above, there are strict limitations within what those who lease these historic buildings can do with the interior design. While that might seem rigid for anyone wanting to bid for the operational rights to one of these buildings, it is also to their benefit as the majority of people who want to visit are coming to enjoy the simplicity of old-fashioned Japanese design. 

The interior of the coffeeshop remains true to that in that it features retro-style seating with carefully selected chairs and tables. The shelves used to showcase the coffee are made of wood, like the rest of the building and while they’re obviously an addition, they don’t take away from the rest of the interior design.

Save for the air conditioner and the kitchen area, the only modern additions to the building are some of the decorations on the walls, which for the most part include posters of Director Huang’s films.

The great thing about this dorm, similar to the nearby Baoting Art and Culture Center (寶町藝文中心) is that the interior, constructed from Taiwanese cedar (杉木) absolutely shines in the sun. The natural light that comes into the building in the afternoon is spectacular and makes the ambiance of enjoying a coffee inside well worth the price of your visit!

The exterior of the building is also quite beautiful and features a yard with ‘actual’ grass, something that is quite uncommon in cities in Taiwan.

Even though the building is located on the corner of Tiehua Road (鐵花路) and Fujian Road (復健路), the main entrance is located in a courtyard that faces away from the road.

The entrance features a beautiful Japanese-style covered porch and the walls are covered in beautiful sliding glass windows. 

The courtyard is large enough to allow for some outdoor seating and a covered pavilion where customers can wait for seating. It is also tree-covered with trees that were planted when the building was originally constructed in the 1930s. The tall trees offer quite a bit of shade, making the wait for a seat a lot more comfortable on hot days. One of them even has a swing hanging from it, which is pretty much Instagram gold, if you’re into that kind of thing.

On the opposite side facing the street, you’ll find a washroom where the original outhouse used to be located. These days however, the building has been upgraded with modern bathrooms.

Still though, to access the washroom you have to walk outside to the back entrance of the building.

If you’ve read this far, you’re probably wondering why I’m not including photos of the coffee or food thats available at the coffeeshop.

I won’t be including any of that. Simply put, I’m not a food blogger and my purpose here isn’t really to introduce or promote the products you’ll get at the coffeeshop.

What I will say however is that the coffee was tasty and the ambiance of sitting inside this historic building was worth the price of admission!

If you’re in Taitung, I highly recommend stopping by this beautiful coffeeshop to learn a little about Taitung’s coffee bean production, enjoy some coffee and more importantly, the former police dormitory which has been completely transformed - and a great example of how these public-private partnerships can be successful!

Getting There

 

Address: #307 Fujian Road, Taitung City (台東市福建路307號)

GPS: 22.75353240966797 121.15357208251953

Located within the downtown core of Taitung City, getting to Taimali Coffee shouldn’t pose any trouble for the average traveller.

The cafe is within walking distance from some of the city’s other popular tourist attractions including the Railway Art Village (鐵花村), Taitung Martyrs Shrine (臺東忠烈祠), Liyu Mountain (鯉魚山), Taitung Bus Station (臺東轉運站), the Taitung Night Market (台東夜市), the famed White House (台東阿伯小白屋) and even the Baoting Art and Culture Centre (寶町藝文中心). 

If you’re staying within the downtown core of the city during your visit, I highly recommend just walking over to the cafe.

If you’ve got a car or scooter, you should be able to find street-side parking nearby, but if you’re visiting during a national holiday, you may be a little trouble parking a car. 

That being said, if you’re staying outside of the city and want to visit, the best way to get there is to take any of the buses that terminate at the Taitung Bus Station, of which there are about 36 and far too many to list here. 

Unfortunately the website for the Taitung Bus Station is only available in Chinese, but you can still check it out to help plan your trip. Your best bet though is to simply click on the bus station on Google Maps to get the full list of buses that stop there and the one that is most suitable for you!

Link: Taitung Bus Station (臺東轉運站) 

You won’t actually find any bus stops along Fujian Road (復健路) where the cafe is located, but this is because the walk from there to the bus station only takes a couple of minutes. 

One thing that is important to note is that the coffee shop tends to be pretty busy, so if you are planning to stop by, I highly recommend heading to their Facebook page that I’ve linked below where you can easily make a reservation.

It would be pretty disappointing if you showed up and the place was so busy that you don’t have the opportunity to enjoy some coffee and a dessert in such a beautifully restored Japanese-era home! 

Hours

From 10:00 to 18:00 on Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. 

From 10:00 to 21:00 on Saturdays and Sundays. 

Contact: 089-330398 | Website | Facebook | Instagram

Some of Director Huang’s past work on display

Some of Director Huang’s past work on display

If you are as interested in the preservation of Taiwan’s cultural heritage as I am, this is a topic that should be of particular interest as it is the method by which the government has used to successfully fund restoration projects all over the country.

With hundreds of these projects completed over the past decade, heritage preservation in Taiwan has become a focal point for the rejuvenation of a cultural identity that was once on the decline.

While I’m sure that you’ll excuse me for painting a rosy picture here with regard to the preservation of historic buildings in Taiwan, the sad fact is that we have already lost countless buildings of cultural and historic value. As time passes, the number of historic structures remaining in Taiwan continues to decrease, so if we want to see all of this preservation continue, we should also do our best to support the businesses that set up shop within these places of cultural interest. By doing so, we ensure that these public-private partnerships remain healthy, and also contribute to the local economy.

Possibly the best seats in the house?