2024 Vol 06 Taitung Times

The lifeblood and heritage of the peoples who have inhabited Taitung for millennia flow like water from the forested mountains, through rivers that nourish the vast Rift Valley plains, and to the coastal areas, from which these Austronesian cultures spread throughout the Pacific islands and beyond. As Indigenous tribes traversed land and sea, trading and exchanging with other peoples, certain locations served as markers of identity and connection—sacred spaces inextricably linking them to their ancestors.

These sites—giant stones and towering trees in powerful locations, maritime landing and launching spots, mountain peaks marking territorial boundaries—embody the profound spiritual connection between the land and its people. They serve as bridges between the physical and spiritual worlds, where generations have performed rituals of worship and sacrifice, celebrated life passages, and passed down ancestral wisdom.

When the elder brother's attempts to seek help from tribal members failed, he turned to their grandmother, who loved them dearly. She taught him how to use a kite to rescue his brother. The elder brother crafted a large kite, tied it to a huge rock, and successfully rescued his brother.

Due to the steep mountainous terrain along the East Coast of Taiwan, there are many conspicuous giant stones in the rivers and mountains and along the coasts, such as the moon pillars at the Beinan Prehistoric Site, the Money Frog Stone in the Beinan River or the sarcophagi found at Dulan and Beinan archaeological sites. Some of these stones have grown to take on great significance in the stories of the people who have inhabited Taitung for thousands of years.

Among the most significant sacred sites for the Indigenous of Taitung is the Kite Stone (風箏石) at Shanyuan Bay, a triangular megalith located about 200 meters north of Shanyuan Beach beneath the windbreak forest. This imposing stone, marked with rope-like grooves around its surface, holds deep significance for both the Amis and Pinuyumayan peoples. According to legend, this stone marks the spot where a mythical kite landed in the "Kite Rescues Brother" story, a tale central to Pinuyumayan, Amis and Paiwan mythology, where brothers go on a journey to visit their grandma, before an unexpected twist suddenly transforms their lives as recounted in this Pinuyumayan version of the story:

The story has been passed down orally generation after generation, and while the details vary somewhat depending on the tribe (in Amis versions the protagonist siblings are Amis and steal from the Pinuyumayan tribe and vice versa) it shows the shared heritage and interconnectivity between the development of Pinuyumayan, Amis and Paiwan tribes. To this day, members of the Pinuyumayan and Amis tribes gather at the Kite Stone to perform annual ceremonies, maintaining an ancient tradition that connects them to their ancestors and the natural world. In the more detailed versions of the Kite Rescues Brother story, the knowledge and skills heritage of their people are reflected in how the kite is constructed, the materials they gather from nature and the ability to read the winds and navigate the kite to its destination. The oral mythologies passed down by Indigenous people in Taitung are full of sacred spaces that actually exist and are still visited today as reminders of their traditions and ancestral skills.

One of many sacred spaces dotted along Taitung’s coastline of vital importance to the local Indigenous people is the Pacefongan (巴茲風岸) shore of the Torik Tribal Village (都歷部落), in Chenggong Township. This traditional maritime territory serves as the launching site during their annual pafafoi ocean worship festival, where they utilize the natural phenomenon of rip currents to swiftly propel their bamboo rafts into deeper waters, giving the name "Pacefongan," which literally translates as "the place where boats enter water".

The timing and nature of the pafafoi is determined by tribal elders, who lead prayers seeking safe passage and bountiful harvests during the summer gathering season. The ceremonies embody the deep connection between the people and the Pacific Ocean, with particular attention paid to reading ocean conditions—local knowledge speaks of avoiding times when "white waves dance like chickens," a description of dangerous sea conditions. Passed down through pafafoi and similar rituals are the very methods that allowed Austronesians to spread out from Taiwan across the Pacific—seafaring through celestial navigation (the reading and memorizing of relative positioning of the stars to determine one's location and destination) and the recognizing of environmental cues such as the wind, the wave swell, and bird types or behaviors.

From the natural locations, to the names and the rituals still held in these sacred spaces, it's clear they serve as more than just historical or cultural landmarks - they are coastal portals, living connections between the past and present, earth and sky, land and sea. They embody the deep environmental knowledge and spiritual wisdom of Taitung's Indigenous peoples, representing a sophisticated understanding of the natural world that preceded modern scientific knowledge by millennia.

In recent years, Pacefongan gained fame on social media as "Taiwan's sky mirror" for its black sand beach's mirror-like reflections at low tide. A revival of interest in traditional maritime culture and watersports contributed to visitor numbers reaching 2,000 per day, bringing challenges of littering and vehicle congestion that threatened this sacred coastal space. In response, the community launched initiatives like the "Torik Ocean Surf" seashore classroom, led by young locals to transform visitors' engagement with the site. In 2022, The Ocean Book of Torik (都歷的海事) was released by the Forestry Bureau a detailed illustrated book about the maritime culture and ecological knowledge of the local Amis, a testament to the renewed interest in this sacred space. Through sharing traditional ecological knowledge, conducting beach cleanups, and promoting responsible tourism, these efforts represent a contemporary adaptation of traditional environmental stewardship principles to modern challenges.

Sacred spaces often mark the boundaries of traditional territories, serving as invisible fences that helped maintain social order and resource management. These boundaries were more than political divisions; they represented a complex understanding of the landscape's spiritual significance. Many of these places are associated with tribal origin stories, marking sites where ancestors first emerged or where significant events occurred; and they could indicate liminal zones between man-made, natural, and spiritual realms.

Dulan Mountain has long been sacred to both the Pinuyumayan and Amis tribes, who lived on either side and historically fought over resources. Eventually, a huge stone (located at the 2.3km mark on the current mountain trail) was established as the boundary between their ancient territories. Known as the Puyuma Altar (普悠瑪祭台), the stone's elevated position embodies an understanding of sacred geography, where high places serve as natural bridges between terrestrial and celestial realms. For generations, the Pinuyumayan of Nanwang tribal village have maintained their spiritual connection to this mountain, ascending to this sacred site to conduct rituals and make offerings to the mountain gods in gratitude for its blessings, such as hunting bounty. Notably, the Beinan Archaeological Site—the location of the ancient Puyuma tribal village—reveals that the moon-shaped stone pillar and most of the discovered stone sarcophagi are oriented toward Dulan Mountain.

Another significant sacred space along Taitung's coast is Sanxiantai (三仙台), once a headland that was gradually separated from the mainland by sea erosion. For the Amis people, who called it "Nuwalian" (meaning "the easternmost place"), the site was protected by Jifawuan (及發烏安), a mythical sea dragon who dwelled in the ocean caves beneath the rocky outcrop. According to legend, this guardian spirit maintained the ecological balance by enforcing traditional fishing limits and ensuring sustainable practices. So seriously was this spiritual stewardship taken that tribal laws required those who overfished to compensate the community with a cow. The dragon's tragic end came during a period when sea snails became highly prized and traded—as overharvesting intensified, Jifawuan's rage at this exploitation manifested in a tremendous earthquake that shook the entire region. The dragon's final, mournful cry was said to have made the seas tremble before the force of its own fury killed it, never to be seen again—a powerful metaphor for the catastrophic consequences of disregarding traditional ecological wisdom. The site holds dual sacred significance, as it's also revered in Taoist tradition as a resting place of three immortals—Li Tieguai, Lü Dongbin, and He Xiangu. The distinctive sea-eroded caves and rocky formations are interpreted through both belief systems: what Taoist followers see as the footprints of immortals, the Amis consider the ancient dwelling place of their ocean guardian. Today, while a 400-meter eight-arch bridge reconnects this islet to the mainland, the site's spiritual significance endures through the stories of both traditions, which serve as a bridge to the past, reminding us how sacred spaces can hold multiple layers of cultural meaning and ecological wisdom.

As Magistrate April Yao positions Taitung as the Austronesian Cultural Capital, these sacred spaces take on new significance. They emerge as physical manifestations of the deep cultural connections between Taiwan's Indigenous peoples and their Austronesian relatives throughout the Pacific. Standing as a testament to enduring spiritual traditions, these spaces have shaped life in this region for countless generations.

The role of sacred spaces in modern Taitung transcends their traditional religious functions. They now serve as crucial sites for cultural education, community gathering, and the transmission of traditional ecological knowledge. Despite challenges posed by modern development, tourism, and shifting social dynamics, the significance of these sacred places in Indigenous cultural identity remains undiminished. While some sites receive official protection, local communities continue to serve as their primary guardians, maintaining time-honored traditions and protocols that govern their use and access. These practices ensure the spiritual significance of these places is both preserved and allowed to evolve, keeping them relevant in contemporary society.

These sacred spaces ultimately remind us that in Taitung, the landscape itself is a living text, recording the spiritual history of its people through stones, shores, islands and mountains. As we conclude our geo-thematic journey through Taitung in 2024, these sacred spaces offer a fitting finale—illustrating how the physical geography of this remarkable region has shaped, and continues to shape, the spiritual and cultural life of its people.