Yes, Penghu was named by Lonely Planet as one of the 10 best secret islands in the globe in its Best Travel in 2011. Try it for yourself.
By June Tsai
Upon entering the "Green Sea Turtle Tourism and Conservation Center" on Wang-an, a part of the Penghu Islands, a large stone tablet commands the attention of visitors.
The words inscribed on the tablet, the center's prize artifact, tell visitors there was a time when the locals ignorantly killed cows that became too old to work and sea turtles. Erected in 1880, the tablet records a story: A few influential persons among the local population created a fund and petitioned the authorities, then of the Chinese Ching Dynasty (1644-1911), to prohibit such killings. Part of the fund was used as a grant for releasing sea turtles and another part was used to pay people to remove litter and keep old cows. To guard against violations of the law, a patrol was implemented. In effect, the tablet represented the law and violators would be punished.
Excavated in 1996 near a section of ancient wall, the tablet was moved to the conservation center for permanent exhibition in 2002 when the center was founded. The tablet is believed to be the earliest evidence of conservationism in the island's history.
A hundred years after the tablet was created, green sea turtles, large marine reptiles accustomed to tropical and subtropical oceans, became an endangered species protected by law in many countries, including Taiwan.
Wang-an Island, literally "making one feel peaceful by just looking at it," is a picturesque islet 25 nautical miles off Taiwan's west coast, with around 800 residents. It was one of only two islands in Taiwan where green sea turtles still build their nests, Cheng I-jiunn, a professor of marine biology at National Taiwan Ocean University, said July 25. The other is Orchid Island, to the southeast of Taiwan proper. Cheng and his team conduct field research on green turtles each summer.
The 7-square-kilometer Wang-an Island of volcanic rocks made a perfect breeding ground for green sea turtles, Cheng said. Its stretches of beach with fine quartz sand and debris from shells and coral reefs, the year-round warm weather and its remoteness, in particular, are the main reasons green turtles choose the island to lay eggs.
"Green turtles are highly loyal to their origins," Cheng said. Mother turtles swam back to the beaches where they were hatched to breed their offspring. Green turtles were "picky" with the breeding environment.
Seen on many of Taiwan's outlying islands in the past, green turtles disappeared about 20 years ago. They still appeared in Wang-an Island, yet in reduced numbers. Pollution, destructive fishing methods and development projects, such as building jetties, are several reasons that contribute to the destruction of green turtles' terrestrial and marine habitats, resulting in their decimation.
Describing the big animal as shy and sensitive, Cheng said a mother turtle looking for a breeding place was easily scared away by light, noise or other human interference. Streetlights could also misguide the vulnerable baby turtles that just broke out of their shells and, through instinct, would head for the ocean by following the moonlight.
Only one out of 1,000 hatchlings will mature to adulthood, a process that takes 20 to 50 years. The growth rate might be even lower in recent years. The biggest threat nowadays is climate change, which makes their food sources scarce, Cheng said, estimating there were 200,000 green turtles worldwide.
Placing emphasis on the species' natural habitats, Penghu County Government designated beaches on Wang-an as a green turtle conservation area in 1995, in accordance with the Wildlife Conservation Act. A veterinary station was established in 1997 to take care of injured turtles.
Warning boards were erected to warn people not to enter beaches without permission. A conservation group was formed among local volunteers to assist in patrolling the beaches during the nighttime. And in 2002, the tourism and conservation center was established to integrate these projects.
For Taiwanese, Wang-an has become synonymous with a home for green turtles. This did not come about easily, as conservation projects encountered resistance from the very beginning, according to Cheng, who started researching green sea turtles 16 years ago.
People protested the no-entry rule, saying these beaches are public space and should be open to everyone, not just to researchers. "For local residents, beaches are like their backyards; you cannot ban people from entering their backyards," Cheng said.
Conservationists eventually persuaded local people to take part in the conservation efforts. The no-entry rule was implemented only in the breeding season, which is between May and October on Wang-an. Beaches are accessible in the daytime. They become protected areas after 8 p.m.
Guided turtle-watching tours are available on Wang-an if reserved in advance. Cheng was optimistic about developing ecotourism, because if done properly, "they would help achieve the goal of turtle conservation."
At dawn on July 26, a mother turtle crawled toward the sea before the eyes of a group of conservationists, carrying a GPS transmitter that Cheng and his team had placed on her. She had just laid around 130 eggs in a nest the night before. Her right leg carried a tag with a number, which meant she had laid eggs on Wang-an some years ago.
"For turtles and humans to feel at peace on the same beach ... this should be our future," Cheng said.
This article first appeared in Taiwan Journal Aug. 31, 2007.
Showing posts with label Penghu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Penghu. Show all posts
Dec 29, 2010
Oct 21, 2010
Island village going strong in Penghu
Sticks of incense drying in Erkan Village, Penghu. (Staff photo/June Tsai)
By June Tsai
Just 20 years ago, Erkan Village was seriously threatened by depopulation and the deterioration of its buildings. Today, travelers to the Penghu archipelago, one of Taiwan’s best-known tourist destinations, consider the site in the western township of Xiyu a must-see destination.
“This is all thanks to a strong sense of community and tradition among residents whose families have lived here for generations,” said Chen Rong-yi, president of the Erkan Association.
The story of Erkan may serve to show how Penghu can draw tourists while keeping its natural and cultural heritage intact, after its residents decided to throw out a casino-development plan in a 2009 referendum.
The quaint hamlet is noted for its well-maintained historic houses and the liveliness of the community, made even more attractive by its seclusion.
Xiyu is a separate island from Penghu proper, where busy Magong City is located, and was not connected to it until 1970, when a 2,494-meter bridge was completed.
Erkan is off the main road, surrounded by round hills on three sides, with a strip of intertidal zone on the northeast.
Visitors entering the village these days are first struck by a curious, warm fragrance, which they soon see comes from sticks of incense spread under the sun to dry.
The incense is pressed together by hand from powdered blanket flowers, Taiwan cotton-rose and Artemisia, which Chen described as Erkan’s three natural treasures. Burning the incense, he added, serves to drive away mosquitoes and, as local lore has it, bad spirits.
The incense sticks, mounted on colorful miniature ship models, are for sale, but at just one establishment in the whole village. In Erkan, each of the restored traditional buildings today is dedicated to one specific aspect of the settlement
Indeed, the incense reveals Erkan’s most important specialty—its tradition of herbal medicine.
The village can be dated back over 300 years, and early settlers, who were all surnamed Chen, came from Kinmen, other offshore islands to the northwest at the mouth of Xiamen Bay on mainland China, during the late years of the Ming dynasty (1368-1644), according to Chen.
Difficulty in making a living due to the dry climate and harsh winds of Penghu caused many residents to emigrate further to Taiwan proper at the beginning of the 20th century. There, they concentrated their efforts in the field of herbal medicine.
Erkan villagers moving to Taiwan developed a business chain encompassing the cultivation of herbs, their manufacture into medicines, the importation of herbs locally unavailable and the operation of medicinal shops providing prescriptions.
Their businesses employed fellow villagers, and spread throughout Taiwan. Some Erkan natives became prominent practitioners of herbal medicine.
This business later played an important role in reviving Erkan in modern times.
“Outsiders always wonder why so many archaic residential houses still stand in Erkan,” Chen said.
“I asked myself the same question and started to collect oral histories. Actually, it became a custom among Erkan people to build fine houses in their home village after they had become successful elsewhere.”
The first people to do so were the brothers Chen Ling and Chen Bang. They had gone to Taiwan before the major exodus of villagers, and returned to build a house in 1901 after making a fortune in Chinese medicine.
Now known as the Ling Bang Memorial, the Minnan-style courtyard house with its baroque decorations was unspeakably magnificent at the time.
Others followed suit. Most of the 50 houses existing today were constructed between 1909 and 1938.
Throughout the years, the village did not grow bigger, and the number of residents remained below 100, yet the community persevered due to the close bonds between people, Chen noted.
“In time, the structures came to make up the village’s material legacy, and the knowledge [of Chinese medicine] accumulated over the years became Erkan’s cultural heritage,” Chen said.
When the government selected Erkan for preservation under a six-year plan in 1994, residents, along with relatives returning from Taiwan, set up the Erkan Association to communicate their views to the government. Chen, now 68, was one of them.
Chen moved with his family to Taiwan’s southern city of Kaohsiung when he was just five. He joined the association from its inception. “I began then to get reacquainted with my hometown.” He is now in his third term as president.
“Policy changed several times in the past, but we intended to revive Erkan, rather than just preserving it as a static museum,” Chen said.
In 2001 the village became the first traditional settlement in the country to be designated for conservation, protected by the Cultural Heritage Preservation Act.
“We make use of the government funding to help renovate houses and build local-specific industry so we can help ourselves survive and keep up tourism,” Chen explained. A total of 21 houses have been renovated.
The revival movement drew more Erkan people back home. Chen Jin-shih, who moved back to the village from Taiwan in 2007, said, “Originally I was just going to join in the community empowerment efforts.”
“When it came to settling down in my home village, I set out to restore the everyday functions of my collection of antiques.”
Now his Erkan Village No. 20 offers visitors a sample of traditional lifestyle, with old furniture, appliances and artifacts displayed as they were used in the past.
Different historic houses now showcase herbal medicine, traditional life, folk songs and intertidal activities. A field of herbs attracts many visitors, while around another corner works produced by local artists are displayed in an open space.
To enjoy the tempo of life in the village, one may choose to stay in Erkan’s only hostel—a traditional house furnished with modern amenities. The small village is also home to three temples, including the Chen family temple.
One house-turned museum is dedicated to Erkan’s special musical and literary heritage—praise songs.
“These songs were written by different generations of local people. They are not only about love and separation, but also about Erkan people’s struggle to survive and prosper in strange lands,” Chen Rong-yi said.
Travelers may follow the lead of a local guide and recite praise song texts in elegant Holo Taiwanese.
“We promote one trade per house—this stems from a consensus among residents to work together to rejuvenate the village, sustain local businesses and preserve our way of life,” the association president said.
Chen revealed that before granting funds for Erkan’s revival plan, the government asked residents to sign an agreement guaranteeing that they would not sell their property to the private sector after renovation.
“There were indeed developers eyeing the village and its surroundings, but we are bent on running the place ourselves,” he said.
“Culture takes time to grow. You don’t build culture in a day. And we are trying hard to continue on the path we chose.”
This article is published in Taiwan Today Aug. 10, 2010.
Dec 29, 2009
Civic groups dissect national land planning act
By June Tsai
As post-disaster reconstruction work continues in the aftermath of Typhoon Morakot, which hit Taiwan in August and caused the nation’s worst natural disaster in 50 years, an overhaul of the country’s land use has become imperative.
The government is moving full speed ahead in legislating the long-overdue National Land Planning Act. The bill was approved in a Cabinet meeting Oct. 12 and sent to the Legislative Yuan for immediate review. But speeding up the review of the law in its current form has civic organizations worried that a law not well thought through will do more harm than good.
In a forum held by the nongovernmental Organization of Urban Re-s Oct. 31, concerned members of civic groups congregated to exchange views and sought to revise the government version of the bill, which they felt leaves a lot to be desired with regard to its direction, principles and technical feasibility.
The act in question would divide national land into four zoning categories: land conservation, marine resources, urban and rural development, and agricultural development. The central government would mainly be responsible for demarcating land conservation and marine resources zones, while local governments would take charge of the other two.
In analyzing the bill, Hsia Chu-joe, a National Taiwan University professor of architecture and planning, said a schematic land-use plan such as the one under review would prove unfeasible or out of date as soon as it was passed.
Hsia argued that Taiwan’s landscape is undergoing a massive restructuring, and a forward-looking land-use plan should be in place to address the challenges brought about by the expansion of urban areas, the disappearance of rural regions and the growing frequency and impact of natural disasters. “Governments the world over are faced with similar challenges, which threaten to incapacitate them,” he said.
In Taiwan, where the private sector has been more flexible and active than the public one, “policies, rather than guidelines, will be better tools for managing growth and forestalling the consequences of rampant development,” he said.
Hsia pointed out that the act fails to face the reality that the development gap in Taiwan today is not one between north and south. “The reality is the urbanization of the long strip of Taiwan’s west coast.” He noted that many land issues, such as the management of mega cities, rivers that run through many administrative areas, and aboriginal territories, are not confined to the jurisdiction of one local government. “Overlap of jurisdiction would cause great problems,” the professor said.
To correct this, Hsia suggested a review committee should be established under the Cabinet-level Council for Economic Planning and Development, with the vice premier as its convener. This committee should be responsible for reviewing land-use proposals submitted by various government agencies when their budgets exceed NT$500 million (US$14.7 million). No money should be earmarked before review by this committee.
In relation to this, Hsia said the government should show its determination to really do something by assigning the responsibility for carrying out the act to the CEPD, which according to a government plan will be upgraded to become the Council for National Development. Implementation of the act is currently assigned to the Construction and Planning Administration, “which is merely an administrative agency, rather than a policy-making one.”
Hsia said another very serious problem is the lack of an aboriginal-centered government body having greater power than local governments to carry out land-use planning involving aboriginal territories effectively and with understanding of indigenous people’s cultures and concerns.
“Indigenous people have rarely been included in the policymaking process involving their traditional territories, rights and ways of life,” he said. In fact, regulations in the National Land Planning Act pertaining to aborigines would supersede those of the Indigenous Peoples Basic Act of 2005.
Participants were positive about the setting aside of land conservation zones, yet many were suspicious about Article Five of the act, which is dedicated to issuing land-development permissions.
“It’s like opening a back door to the evils of overdevelopment within a law meant to enshrine the protection of national land,” said Peng Yang-kai of OURS.
Likewise, Peng said, the bill does not put an end to a controversial article in the country’s Agricultural Development Act, which allows residences to be built in the midst of farmland and has since its passage in 1999 opened the door to the rapid annexation of arable land.
The act on national land planning was first proposed in 1993. Yet in the past years, drive for economic development, pressure from vested interests and election campaigns have kept it from becoming law. Now the rush to pass the law looks like a strategy for the government to evade the real issues of land conservation and the destructive consequences of decades of overdevelopment, said Ho Chen Tan, president of the Taiwan Ecological Engineering Development Foundation.
“There are actually enough laws in place if the government has the will to recover overused land and prevent further disasters from happening soon,” Ho Chen said. He pointed out that the bill, which fails to clearly set a date for the act to go into effect, gives a six-year time frame for the land use plans to be completed.
“If all goes well, it would take at least four additional years for other related rules that contravene this one to be amended, but by then it might be too late.” Ho Chen urged civil groups to focus on getting the government to clarify its position on individual development projects where there is policy conflict. “We can then ask the government to abide by what it professes, rather than allowing it to use the legislation as a shield to deflect its responsibility.”
Hsia concluded that if it were not for the past typhoon disaster, this act would still have been sitting idly in the Legislative Yuan. By intervening in the law-making process, society should oblige the government to take the law and the problems it sets out to cure seriously, he added.
“Friends used to joke that the only viable development plan for Taiwan is to build the island into a global junction for tourism and the cultural and creative industry,” Hsia said. “They might be right.”
This article is published at online Taiwan Today Nov. 20, 2009.
As post-disaster reconstruction work continues in the aftermath of Typhoon Morakot, which hit Taiwan in August and caused the nation’s worst natural disaster in 50 years, an overhaul of the country’s land use has become imperative.
The government is moving full speed ahead in legislating the long-overdue National Land Planning Act. The bill was approved in a Cabinet meeting Oct. 12 and sent to the Legislative Yuan for immediate review. But speeding up the review of the law in its current form has civic organizations worried that a law not well thought through will do more harm than good.
In a forum held by the nongovernmental Organization of Urban Re-s Oct. 31, concerned members of civic groups congregated to exchange views and sought to revise the government version of the bill, which they felt leaves a lot to be desired with regard to its direction, principles and technical feasibility.
The act in question would divide national land into four zoning categories: land conservation, marine resources, urban and rural development, and agricultural development. The central government would mainly be responsible for demarcating land conservation and marine resources zones, while local governments would take charge of the other two.
In analyzing the bill, Hsia Chu-joe, a National Taiwan University professor of architecture and planning, said a schematic land-use plan such as the one under review would prove unfeasible or out of date as soon as it was passed.
Hsia argued that Taiwan’s landscape is undergoing a massive restructuring, and a forward-looking land-use plan should be in place to address the challenges brought about by the expansion of urban areas, the disappearance of rural regions and the growing frequency and impact of natural disasters. “Governments the world over are faced with similar challenges, which threaten to incapacitate them,” he said.
In Taiwan, where the private sector has been more flexible and active than the public one, “policies, rather than guidelines, will be better tools for managing growth and forestalling the consequences of rampant development,” he said.
Hsia pointed out that the act fails to face the reality that the development gap in Taiwan today is not one between north and south. “The reality is the urbanization of the long strip of Taiwan’s west coast.” He noted that many land issues, such as the management of mega cities, rivers that run through many administrative areas, and aboriginal territories, are not confined to the jurisdiction of one local government. “Overlap of jurisdiction would cause great problems,” the professor said.
To correct this, Hsia suggested a review committee should be established under the Cabinet-level Council for Economic Planning and Development, with the vice premier as its convener. This committee should be responsible for reviewing land-use proposals submitted by various government agencies when their budgets exceed NT$500 million (US$14.7 million). No money should be earmarked before review by this committee.
In relation to this, Hsia said the government should show its determination to really do something by assigning the responsibility for carrying out the act to the CEPD, which according to a government plan will be upgraded to become the Council for National Development. Implementation of the act is currently assigned to the Construction and Planning Administration, “which is merely an administrative agency, rather than a policy-making one.”
Hsia said another very serious problem is the lack of an aboriginal-centered government body having greater power than local governments to carry out land-use planning involving aboriginal territories effectively and with understanding of indigenous people’s cultures and concerns.
“Indigenous people have rarely been included in the policymaking process involving their traditional territories, rights and ways of life,” he said. In fact, regulations in the National Land Planning Act pertaining to aborigines would supersede those of the Indigenous Peoples Basic Act of 2005.
Participants were positive about the setting aside of land conservation zones, yet many were suspicious about Article Five of the act, which is dedicated to issuing land-development permissions.
“It’s like opening a back door to the evils of overdevelopment within a law meant to enshrine the protection of national land,” said Peng Yang-kai of OURS.
Likewise, Peng said, the bill does not put an end to a controversial article in the country’s Agricultural Development Act, which allows residences to be built in the midst of farmland and has since its passage in 1999 opened the door to the rapid annexation of arable land.
The act on national land planning was first proposed in 1993. Yet in the past years, drive for economic development, pressure from vested interests and election campaigns have kept it from becoming law. Now the rush to pass the law looks like a strategy for the government to evade the real issues of land conservation and the destructive consequences of decades of overdevelopment, said Ho Chen Tan, president of the Taiwan Ecological Engineering Development Foundation.
“There are actually enough laws in place if the government has the will to recover overused land and prevent further disasters from happening soon,” Ho Chen said. He pointed out that the bill, which fails to clearly set a date for the act to go into effect, gives a six-year time frame for the land use plans to be completed.
“If all goes well, it would take at least four additional years for other related rules that contravene this one to be amended, but by then it might be too late.” Ho Chen urged civil groups to focus on getting the government to clarify its position on individual development projects where there is policy conflict. “We can then ask the government to abide by what it professes, rather than allowing it to use the legislation as a shield to deflect its responsibility.”
Hsia concluded that if it were not for the past typhoon disaster, this act would still have been sitting idly in the Legislative Yuan. By intervening in the law-making process, society should oblige the government to take the law and the problems it sets out to cure seriously, he added.
“Friends used to joke that the only viable development plan for Taiwan is to build the island into a global junction for tourism and the cultural and creative industry,” Hsia said. “They might be right.”
This article is published at online Taiwan Today Nov. 20, 2009.
Sep 30, 2009
Penghu casino development raises questions for residents
By June Tsai
Rich ocean resources, stunning beaches, well-preserved traditional Chinese villages and a culture shaped by gusting winds are all unique to Penghu, an archipelago of 90 islets off the southwest of Taiwan proper.
For residents, these qualities are an important source of their long-standing pride and sense of independence. But over the last decade, the local community has been riven with divisions concerning plans to introduce casinos as a cure-all for the region's economic ills. "Penghu's greatest asset is its living environment. We want more people to experience this beauty," Hung Tung-lin, director of Penghu County Government's Tourism Department, said Jan. 22.
Hung explained that the gaming business combined with foreign investment lured by casino and resort development is likely to put Penghu, also known as the Pescadores, on the international tourism map. "For five months a year, the wind stops all tourism," he said. "This new strategy gives the area's economy a fighting chance." Official statistics showed that Penghu, with a population of 92,000, welcomed 500,000 visitors last year, mostly from Taiwan proper.
The introduction of casinos was first mooted in the early 1980s when legislators began reviewing a draft of the Isolated Islands Construction Act. The goal was to develop tourist casinos on offshore islands as a way of boosting local economies. A first draft included the stipulation permitting Taiwan's local governments to designate special zones for gambling tourism. Demonstrating remarkable foresight in 1993, Penghu's former New Party Legislator Chen Kwei-miew proposed that revenue be channeled into a construction fund earmarked for future developments.
Over the past 10 years, various casino proposals have been floated but were all shot down following heated debate and allegations of vested interests. This did not deter Penghu's lawmakers and county commissioners from pursuing the idea though. Their mantra of "casinos will help put tourism first," as coined by Penghu County Commissioner Wang Chien-fa, was aimed at dispelling concerns over the rise of casino-associated problems, such as organized crime, drugs and vice, which would impact Penghu's peaceful living environment.
Since 1996, Chen's successor, Kuomintang Legislator Lin Pin-kuan, has been an outspoken proponent of developing Penghu's gaming business. So committed was he to this belief that in 1998, incensed by the opposition of then Premier Vincent Siew and the KMT leadership's stance against decriminalizing gambling, he resigned from the party.
But after the KMT took office in May 2008, the party underwent a dramatic turnaround on the issue. In August that year, Premier Liu Chao-shiuan instructed the Council for Economic Planning and Development to push for a bill amending the Isolated Islands Construction Act. This would allow gambling in designated places, and was seen as key component of President Ma Ying-jeou's campaign promise to develop the country's offshore islands.
When the amendment finally passed its third reading in the Legislature Jan. 12, Lin--now a Non-Partisan Solidarity Union lawmaker--beamed with joy that his 13-year odyssey was at an end. The amendment lifts a ban on gambling and allows casinos to be built within integrated resorts on Taiwan's outlying islands. The only catch is that local residents must first approve the development via referenda.
Surprisingly, the country's Referendum Act, which requires more than half of all eligible voters to support a proposal before it can be adopted, does not apply to these polls. If a casino proposal passes the 50-percent threshold of votes cast, this is now enough to greenlight the project.
In addition, the amendment does not specify related measures as to the license fee, taxation and distribution of revenues, which were in Lin's original proposal, and the CEPD has not submitted a plan to draw them up. By the end of this month, the Cabinet will designate an agency responsible for drafting rules concerning casino licenses, such as the application procedure and approval criteria.
Following the bill's third reading, Wang revealed that the Penghu County Government had set aside 120 hectares of land in Baisha and Huxi districts for potential development, hoping to attract NT$33.75 billion (US$1 billion) of investment and create 10,000 new jobs. The county commissioner believes that after tourist casinos open their doors, the island will attract around 5 million visitors a year, generating NT$3.75 billion in revenue. He estimates that 60 percent of this revenue, supplemented by average visitor spending of NT$5,000, will see Penghu rake in NT$2.25 billion per annum.
Several investors are already looking like safe bets to share in the casino's revenue, most notably, the Isle of Man-based property development company Amazing Holdings PLC. The company began acquiring land for its 500-room five-star Penghu resort in May 1999, and by September 2003, had effectively secured its 26-hectare site after signing a revised purchase agreement with landowners. In August 2007, the final parcel of land was transacted and the purchase process completed.
With AMZ Holdings set to build Taiwan's first casino, there are concerns among Penghu residents that the developer is more interested in short-term profits than the region's long-term development. It is no secret that AMZ Holdings has long hungered to get a slice of the US$100 million that Taiwan's baccarat players reportedly wager in Las Vegas each year. And by building a Singaporean-modeled integrated resort, the developer believes it can attract Taiwan's gamblers all year round.
With the company's target market appearing to differ enormously from what the central and local administrations have in mind, the onus will be on the government to minimize a potential over-reliance on local punters. CEPD Minister Chen Tain-jy previously suggested there would be a limit on the number of Taiwanese allowed to enter the casino. "We are not creating a casino industry, but tourist casinos in certain areas," he said.
But not every one in Penghu believes the rosy picture painted by the central and local governments about casinos and their economic benefits. Lin Chang-hsin, a Penghu resident, asked: "Is Penghu ready to cope with the government's 'estimated' 5-million visitors a year?" With the figure 10 times in excess of the region's current level, many are concerned that existing water, electricity, waste management and transportation systems will collapse under this additional load.
Officials believe that casino-based development will bring about infrastructure improvements to the island group, which is located at the geographic center of East Asia's major cities. Wang said proceeds from casinos would help Penghu stand on its own two feet economically, rather than relying on central government funds.
Lin had repeatedly argued, as in the Jan. 12 legislative session: "Those opposed to casinos do not understand the plights and needs of people living on the outlying islands." He explained that while the new amendment permits casinos to be only a small part of an integrated resort, they still represent a huge opportunity for Taiwan's neglected outlying islands.
Some citizens suspect, however, that politicians have been exploiting the relatively slow economic development of regions such as Penghu. By cashing in on residents' feelings of being marginalized by the central government, they have been able to justify their drive for the quick buck gaming industry, as opposed to pursuing sustainable development plans.
Lin Chang-hsin argues that the local government has wasted the past 10 years, which could have been used to develop the region's existing environment and cultural assets for the benefit of the local and national tourism industries. He also claims that the Isolated Islands Construction Fund--established in 2001 with NT$30 billion to help meet the outlying islands' infrastructure needs over 10 years--was not put to effective use on Penghu.
"First they built harbors, then came wave-damping blocks, and then they used money to maintain harbors and cement works," Lin said. "It's a case of literally throwing money into the sea, while destroying Penghu's natural surroundings and ecosystems."
Lin organizes bird-watching tours to the region's less-visited islets during summers and is working with academics to push for designating Penghu as a Taiwanese geopark, featuring its famous basalt columns that experts believe are on par with Northern Ireland's top tourist attraction, the Giant's Causeway.
While tourism officials argue that a casino will help supplement Penghu's tourism industry, Lin believes this assertion is out of sync with the region. "We are exceptionally blessed with various resources, not to mention generous funding from the central government," he said. "Penghu does not need a casino, nor can it afford having one. It's time for residents to think very clearly about the future of our county."
This article is published in Taiwan Journal Feb. 13, 2009.
Rich ocean resources, stunning beaches, well-preserved traditional Chinese villages and a culture shaped by gusting winds are all unique to Penghu, an archipelago of 90 islets off the southwest of Taiwan proper.
For residents, these qualities are an important source of their long-standing pride and sense of independence. But over the last decade, the local community has been riven with divisions concerning plans to introduce casinos as a cure-all for the region's economic ills. "Penghu's greatest asset is its living environment. We want more people to experience this beauty," Hung Tung-lin, director of Penghu County Government's Tourism Department, said Jan. 22.
Hung explained that the gaming business combined with foreign investment lured by casino and resort development is likely to put Penghu, also known as the Pescadores, on the international tourism map. "For five months a year, the wind stops all tourism," he said. "This new strategy gives the area's economy a fighting chance." Official statistics showed that Penghu, with a population of 92,000, welcomed 500,000 visitors last year, mostly from Taiwan proper.
The introduction of casinos was first mooted in the early 1980s when legislators began reviewing a draft of the Isolated Islands Construction Act. The goal was to develop tourist casinos on offshore islands as a way of boosting local economies. A first draft included the stipulation permitting Taiwan's local governments to designate special zones for gambling tourism. Demonstrating remarkable foresight in 1993, Penghu's former New Party Legislator Chen Kwei-miew proposed that revenue be channeled into a construction fund earmarked for future developments.
Over the past 10 years, various casino proposals have been floated but were all shot down following heated debate and allegations of vested interests. This did not deter Penghu's lawmakers and county commissioners from pursuing the idea though. Their mantra of "casinos will help put tourism first," as coined by Penghu County Commissioner Wang Chien-fa, was aimed at dispelling concerns over the rise of casino-associated problems, such as organized crime, drugs and vice, which would impact Penghu's peaceful living environment.
Since 1996, Chen's successor, Kuomintang Legislator Lin Pin-kuan, has been an outspoken proponent of developing Penghu's gaming business. So committed was he to this belief that in 1998, incensed by the opposition of then Premier Vincent Siew and the KMT leadership's stance against decriminalizing gambling, he resigned from the party.
But after the KMT took office in May 2008, the party underwent a dramatic turnaround on the issue. In August that year, Premier Liu Chao-shiuan instructed the Council for Economic Planning and Development to push for a bill amending the Isolated Islands Construction Act. This would allow gambling in designated places, and was seen as key component of President Ma Ying-jeou's campaign promise to develop the country's offshore islands.
When the amendment finally passed its third reading in the Legislature Jan. 12, Lin--now a Non-Partisan Solidarity Union lawmaker--beamed with joy that his 13-year odyssey was at an end. The amendment lifts a ban on gambling and allows casinos to be built within integrated resorts on Taiwan's outlying islands. The only catch is that local residents must first approve the development via referenda.
Surprisingly, the country's Referendum Act, which requires more than half of all eligible voters to support a proposal before it can be adopted, does not apply to these polls. If a casino proposal passes the 50-percent threshold of votes cast, this is now enough to greenlight the project.
In addition, the amendment does not specify related measures as to the license fee, taxation and distribution of revenues, which were in Lin's original proposal, and the CEPD has not submitted a plan to draw them up. By the end of this month, the Cabinet will designate an agency responsible for drafting rules concerning casino licenses, such as the application procedure and approval criteria.
Following the bill's third reading, Wang revealed that the Penghu County Government had set aside 120 hectares of land in Baisha and Huxi districts for potential development, hoping to attract NT$33.75 billion (US$1 billion) of investment and create 10,000 new jobs. The county commissioner believes that after tourist casinos open their doors, the island will attract around 5 million visitors a year, generating NT$3.75 billion in revenue. He estimates that 60 percent of this revenue, supplemented by average visitor spending of NT$5,000, will see Penghu rake in NT$2.25 billion per annum.
Several investors are already looking like safe bets to share in the casino's revenue, most notably, the Isle of Man-based property development company Amazing Holdings PLC. The company began acquiring land for its 500-room five-star Penghu resort in May 1999, and by September 2003, had effectively secured its 26-hectare site after signing a revised purchase agreement with landowners. In August 2007, the final parcel of land was transacted and the purchase process completed.
With AMZ Holdings set to build Taiwan's first casino, there are concerns among Penghu residents that the developer is more interested in short-term profits than the region's long-term development. It is no secret that AMZ Holdings has long hungered to get a slice of the US$100 million that Taiwan's baccarat players reportedly wager in Las Vegas each year. And by building a Singaporean-modeled integrated resort, the developer believes it can attract Taiwan's gamblers all year round.
With the company's target market appearing to differ enormously from what the central and local administrations have in mind, the onus will be on the government to minimize a potential over-reliance on local punters. CEPD Minister Chen Tain-jy previously suggested there would be a limit on the number of Taiwanese allowed to enter the casino. "We are not creating a casino industry, but tourist casinos in certain areas," he said.
But not every one in Penghu believes the rosy picture painted by the central and local governments about casinos and their economic benefits. Lin Chang-hsin, a Penghu resident, asked: "Is Penghu ready to cope with the government's 'estimated' 5-million visitors a year?" With the figure 10 times in excess of the region's current level, many are concerned that existing water, electricity, waste management and transportation systems will collapse under this additional load.
Officials believe that casino-based development will bring about infrastructure improvements to the island group, which is located at the geographic center of East Asia's major cities. Wang said proceeds from casinos would help Penghu stand on its own two feet economically, rather than relying on central government funds.
Lin had repeatedly argued, as in the Jan. 12 legislative session: "Those opposed to casinos do not understand the plights and needs of people living on the outlying islands." He explained that while the new amendment permits casinos to be only a small part of an integrated resort, they still represent a huge opportunity for Taiwan's neglected outlying islands.
Some citizens suspect, however, that politicians have been exploiting the relatively slow economic development of regions such as Penghu. By cashing in on residents' feelings of being marginalized by the central government, they have been able to justify their drive for the quick buck gaming industry, as opposed to pursuing sustainable development plans.
Lin Chang-hsin argues that the local government has wasted the past 10 years, which could have been used to develop the region's existing environment and cultural assets for the benefit of the local and national tourism industries. He also claims that the Isolated Islands Construction Fund--established in 2001 with NT$30 billion to help meet the outlying islands' infrastructure needs over 10 years--was not put to effective use on Penghu.
"First they built harbors, then came wave-damping blocks, and then they used money to maintain harbors and cement works," Lin said. "It's a case of literally throwing money into the sea, while destroying Penghu's natural surroundings and ecosystems."
Lin organizes bird-watching tours to the region's less-visited islets during summers and is working with academics to push for designating Penghu as a Taiwanese geopark, featuring its famous basalt columns that experts believe are on par with Northern Ireland's top tourist attraction, the Giant's Causeway.
While tourism officials argue that a casino will help supplement Penghu's tourism industry, Lin believes this assertion is out of sync with the region. "We are exceptionally blessed with various resources, not to mention generous funding from the central government," he said. "Penghu does not need a casino, nor can it afford having one. It's time for residents to think very clearly about the future of our county."
This article is published in Taiwan Journal Feb. 13, 2009.
Wang-an offers life by the sea
By June Tsai
On the map of Taiwan, Wang-an Island is a barely visible spot off the nation's western coast. Although tiny geographically, the islet punches far above its weight in terms of tourism appeal, offering golden stretches of beach, a fascinating history of settlement, and a refuge from city life, where peace and tranquility prevails.
Wang-an is part of an archipelago of around 90 islets that make up the Penghu Islands between Taiwan and China in the Taiwan Strait. The 7.2-square-kilometer island is the fourth-largest among the island group and one of 18 which are inhabited. For most people living in today's largely urbanized Taiwan, the islet is a mysterious place representing an idyllic lifestyle long out of reach to city dwellers. This mystique is further enhanced by the name itself: Wang-an literally means "making one feel peaceful by just looking at it."
About 18 nautical miles away, or an hour by air-conditioned ferry, from Penghu Island's southern port, Wang-an is a tourist mecca in the high season between March and October, with four to six busloads of tourists stepping ashore every day.
Syu Siou-mei--who along with her mother runs an eatery and bike-rental business located in front of the island's major harbor Tanmen Port--is one of the first points of contact for disembarking tourists. Two years ago, Syu's husband walked away from his life as a fisherman and now helps look after the steady stream of visitors. This change of priorities for the family epitomizes the past and present of Wang-an's people.
According to studies made of archeological excavations provided by Penghu Reclamation Hall--a historic house-turned museum in central Magong City, Penghu's capital--the island chain has long been a convenient destination for visitors, beginning more than 1,000 years ago when Chinese migrants used the region as temporary base for fishing.
Fleeing from famine, war or poverty on the mainland, Han Chinese settlers started to move into the area in large numbers from the early 17th century. Up until the mid-19th century, when the area was under the administration of the Ching dynasty, Wang-an, together with the nearby Jiangjyun Island, were the only two islets to the south of Penghu that were legally allowed to be inhabited and served as a check point for ships sailing between China and Taiwan or Southeast Asia, writes Lin Hui-cheng, a professor of architecture and historic preservation with Taipei National University of the Arts, in a 2003 document published by the Council for Cultural Affairs.
Settlers from this period of time became the ancestors of Penghu's residents, now numbering around 80,000. This figure includes the Wang-an people, who today are estimated at 1,000. Many emigrated further afield to arrive in Taiwan, a practice that continues 400 years on from the time of original settlement.
Leaving for Taiwan with its warmer economic climate has always seemed to be a permanent move for Wang-an islanders. As often is the case, depopulation and remoteness in relation to more developed areas has helped preserve the natural beauty, as well as the original faces of many settlements on the islet. This, in turn, has slowly brought people in and even helped keep some at home.
Jhongshe Village, on Wang-an's east side, is the most touted destination for tourists. For first-time visitors to the island, the village appears to be inhabited by no one but stone houses, many of them dilapidated. Some of them have wooden bars bolted across their doors, signaling that they are owned but no one lives inside. The only sound one might hear walking along a near-deserted street, if not the conspicuous silence, might just be the mewing of a cat or waves breaking on the seashore at the end of each alley.
The history of the village dates back 300 years ago when its old name "Huajhai" was first mentioned in a 1695 record by the Ching administration. Huajhai, meaning "houses of flowers," was renamed Jhongshe, or central settlement, by Chiang Kai-shek's son Chiang Ching-kuo, who visited the village in 1946.
The population drain began in the 1930s and 1940s, with residents moving to Kaohsiung or Tainan on Taiwan proper. Of all the six settlements on Wang-an, Jhongshe was the earliest to have experienced this phenomenon, Lin wrote. Ironically, what seemed like a death knell for the settlement actually helped maintain the original appearance of the community's traditional houses.
For those conversant with the history of the village, like Chen Chih-ming, each one of Jhongshe's structures tells a different story about life in the hamlet. Chen is a Kaohsiung-born professional guide who became a specialist in the Penghu Island region.
According to Chen, the houses range between 100 and 200 years in age, with their styles offering a fascinating historical snapshot of the architectural history of today's southern Chinese provinces. Traditional structures are replete with courtyards; the shape of a dwelling's window, the number of its lattices, the facade of a wall and the obliquity of a roof all embody traditional Chinese social values, views of life or the social status of the owners.
While the design of the homes may be Chinese in origin, the building materials were definitely not. The realities of living on an island with scarce resources dictated that the main structures had to be built using whatever was readily available. And on Wang-an, this was pieces of coral harvested from local reefs combined with basalt stones.
"To build a house, local people dove to collect whole pieces of coral reefs," Chen said July 26. "This would take place at least three years before they started to build their house."
The construction technique called for coral to first be piled up and formed into four low walls encircling a vegetable plot. "Winds in Penghu can be as strong as a medium typhoon during the winter," Chen said. The coral walls served as protection of crops. These became "vegetable houses" that can still be seen intact all over Wang-an.
This weathering process not only prepared the coral for use in building houses, but also cleansed it of its ocean smell. Houses made of embedded coral, which contains calcium carbonate like firewall, could both resist the heat in summer and retain warmth in winter, Chen explained.
Erected in different periods, the dwellings are good indicators of the progress of time, as well as that of construction skills. With the collection of coral now forbidden on Wang-an, the village's 151 houses are now a museum of traditional architecture. Jhongshe was included on the list of 100 most endangered sites by the New York-based World Monuments Fund in 2004.
If Jhongshe appeals to those inspired by architecture and the history that lies behind the formation of the settlement, then nature lovers will find Wang-an's panoramic views no less inspiring. Without a high-rise building in sight, the only visual distractions are bushes, cactus and orange flowers of Gaillardia pluchella Foug, Penghu's emblem.
Sunset on Tiantai Mountain, the highest point on the islet just north of Jhongshe, is another of nature's gifts bestowed upon Wang-an. Despite being only 53 meters above sea level, the view is surprisingly spectacular due to the large expanses of rolling green pasture fringed by the sea on three sides.
Wang-an's beaches are yet another natural feature not to be missed. Made of fine quartz sand and debris from shells and coral reefs, the stretches of shoreline on the volcanic islet are a golden color, adjoined by crystal-clear waters.
These beaches are not only idyllic places for visitors to swim and soak up the sun, but have served as protected areas for green sea turtles since 1995. Wang-an and Orchid Island are the only two locations in Taiwan where these large marine reptiles, known for returning to the places where they were hatched, come ashore to build their nests. Development and human activities have contributed to the sharp decline in numbers of green sea turtles, with the creatures becoming an endangered species protected by law.
While these beaches are accessible in the daytime, they become protected areas when the sun goes down. People are not allowed to enter without permission from 8 p.m. until 5 a.m. The arrangement is to satisfy both turtles and humans, who for hundreds of years have shared the same beaches.
Though invariably treated as a transit point throughout history for men and women in search of a better life, today, Wang-an Island offers tourists an oasis of natural beauty to escape from the hustle and bustle of city life, while enjoying a glimpse of days gone by.
This article is published in Taiwan Journal Sept. 21, 2007.
On the map of Taiwan, Wang-an Island is a barely visible spot off the nation's western coast. Although tiny geographically, the islet punches far above its weight in terms of tourism appeal, offering golden stretches of beach, a fascinating history of settlement, and a refuge from city life, where peace and tranquility prevails.
Wang-an is part of an archipelago of around 90 islets that make up the Penghu Islands between Taiwan and China in the Taiwan Strait. The 7.2-square-kilometer island is the fourth-largest among the island group and one of 18 which are inhabited. For most people living in today's largely urbanized Taiwan, the islet is a mysterious place representing an idyllic lifestyle long out of reach to city dwellers. This mystique is further enhanced by the name itself: Wang-an literally means "making one feel peaceful by just looking at it."
About 18 nautical miles away, or an hour by air-conditioned ferry, from Penghu Island's southern port, Wang-an is a tourist mecca in the high season between March and October, with four to six busloads of tourists stepping ashore every day.
Syu Siou-mei--who along with her mother runs an eatery and bike-rental business located in front of the island's major harbor Tanmen Port--is one of the first points of contact for disembarking tourists. Two years ago, Syu's husband walked away from his life as a fisherman and now helps look after the steady stream of visitors. This change of priorities for the family epitomizes the past and present of Wang-an's people.
According to studies made of archeological excavations provided by Penghu Reclamation Hall--a historic house-turned museum in central Magong City, Penghu's capital--the island chain has long been a convenient destination for visitors, beginning more than 1,000 years ago when Chinese migrants used the region as temporary base for fishing.
Fleeing from famine, war or poverty on the mainland, Han Chinese settlers started to move into the area in large numbers from the early 17th century. Up until the mid-19th century, when the area was under the administration of the Ching dynasty, Wang-an, together with the nearby Jiangjyun Island, were the only two islets to the south of Penghu that were legally allowed to be inhabited and served as a check point for ships sailing between China and Taiwan or Southeast Asia, writes Lin Hui-cheng, a professor of architecture and historic preservation with Taipei National University of the Arts, in a 2003 document published by the Council for Cultural Affairs.
Settlers from this period of time became the ancestors of Penghu's residents, now numbering around 80,000. This figure includes the Wang-an people, who today are estimated at 1,000. Many emigrated further afield to arrive in Taiwan, a practice that continues 400 years on from the time of original settlement.
Leaving for Taiwan with its warmer economic climate has always seemed to be a permanent move for Wang-an islanders. As often is the case, depopulation and remoteness in relation to more developed areas has helped preserve the natural beauty, as well as the original faces of many settlements on the islet. This, in turn, has slowly brought people in and even helped keep some at home.
Jhongshe Village, on Wang-an's east side, is the most touted destination for tourists. For first-time visitors to the island, the village appears to be inhabited by no one but stone houses, many of them dilapidated. Some of them have wooden bars bolted across their doors, signaling that they are owned but no one lives inside. The only sound one might hear walking along a near-deserted street, if not the conspicuous silence, might just be the mewing of a cat or waves breaking on the seashore at the end of each alley.
The history of the village dates back 300 years ago when its old name "Huajhai" was first mentioned in a 1695 record by the Ching administration. Huajhai, meaning "houses of flowers," was renamed Jhongshe, or central settlement, by Chiang Kai-shek's son Chiang Ching-kuo, who visited the village in 1946.
The population drain began in the 1930s and 1940s, with residents moving to Kaohsiung or Tainan on Taiwan proper. Of all the six settlements on Wang-an, Jhongshe was the earliest to have experienced this phenomenon, Lin wrote. Ironically, what seemed like a death knell for the settlement actually helped maintain the original appearance of the community's traditional houses.
For those conversant with the history of the village, like Chen Chih-ming, each one of Jhongshe's structures tells a different story about life in the hamlet. Chen is a Kaohsiung-born professional guide who became a specialist in the Penghu Island region.
According to Chen, the houses range between 100 and 200 years in age, with their styles offering a fascinating historical snapshot of the architectural history of today's southern Chinese provinces. Traditional structures are replete with courtyards; the shape of a dwelling's window, the number of its lattices, the facade of a wall and the obliquity of a roof all embody traditional Chinese social values, views of life or the social status of the owners.
While the design of the homes may be Chinese in origin, the building materials were definitely not. The realities of living on an island with scarce resources dictated that the main structures had to be built using whatever was readily available. And on Wang-an, this was pieces of coral harvested from local reefs combined with basalt stones.
"To build a house, local people dove to collect whole pieces of coral reefs," Chen said July 26. "This would take place at least three years before they started to build their house."
The construction technique called for coral to first be piled up and formed into four low walls encircling a vegetable plot. "Winds in Penghu can be as strong as a medium typhoon during the winter," Chen said. The coral walls served as protection of crops. These became "vegetable houses" that can still be seen intact all over Wang-an.
This weathering process not only prepared the coral for use in building houses, but also cleansed it of its ocean smell. Houses made of embedded coral, which contains calcium carbonate like firewall, could both resist the heat in summer and retain warmth in winter, Chen explained.
Erected in different periods, the dwellings are good indicators of the progress of time, as well as that of construction skills. With the collection of coral now forbidden on Wang-an, the village's 151 houses are now a museum of traditional architecture. Jhongshe was included on the list of 100 most endangered sites by the New York-based World Monuments Fund in 2004.
If Jhongshe appeals to those inspired by architecture and the history that lies behind the formation of the settlement, then nature lovers will find Wang-an's panoramic views no less inspiring. Without a high-rise building in sight, the only visual distractions are bushes, cactus and orange flowers of Gaillardia pluchella Foug, Penghu's emblem.
Sunset on Tiantai Mountain, the highest point on the islet just north of Jhongshe, is another of nature's gifts bestowed upon Wang-an. Despite being only 53 meters above sea level, the view is surprisingly spectacular due to the large expanses of rolling green pasture fringed by the sea on three sides.
Wang-an's beaches are yet another natural feature not to be missed. Made of fine quartz sand and debris from shells and coral reefs, the stretches of shoreline on the volcanic islet are a golden color, adjoined by crystal-clear waters.
These beaches are not only idyllic places for visitors to swim and soak up the sun, but have served as protected areas for green sea turtles since 1995. Wang-an and Orchid Island are the only two locations in Taiwan where these large marine reptiles, known for returning to the places where they were hatched, come ashore to build their nests. Development and human activities have contributed to the sharp decline in numbers of green sea turtles, with the creatures becoming an endangered species protected by law.
While these beaches are accessible in the daytime, they become protected areas when the sun goes down. People are not allowed to enter without permission from 8 p.m. until 5 a.m. The arrangement is to satisfy both turtles and humans, who for hundreds of years have shared the same beaches.
Though invariably treated as a transit point throughout history for men and women in search of a better life, today, Wang-an Island offers tourists an oasis of natural beauty to escape from the hustle and bustle of city life, while enjoying a glimpse of days gone by.
This article is published in Taiwan Journal Sept. 21, 2007.
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