臺灣

Bao'an Station (保安車站)

I’m a bit of a weirdo when it comes to organization, so when it comes to places that I want to visit, I have a map that I’m constantly updating, and, as I’ve mentioned on numerous occasions, the majority of spots that I have on my list are located somewhere in the south of Taiwan. Over the years, I’ve added so many places to visit on the map that I’d probably need months to visit all of them, but all that means is that whenever I do find the time to make my way down south, I always have a tight schedule of things to see and do with the little time that I have.

That being said, when I do find the time, my plans often end up being far too ambitious, and although I always try my best to get a lot of work done, something I’ve come to realize is that the pace of life down there is a lot more chill than it is up here in the north. Instead of running around trying to visit as many places as possible, a better idea might be to, instead, visit a few destinations while also remembering to spend time relaxing, enjoying the weather, eating great food, and enjoying some really cool coffee shops.

These decisions are, admittedly, made a lot easier when your trip is interrupted by a tropical storm that brings with it days of torrential rain. so, with few other options with such weather, a lot of the time during my most recent trip south was spent hanging out in some of the Tainan’s hip coffeeshops, where I enjoyed the tropical fruit-inspired coffee that the city has become known for. When the weather did clear up, I set off to check out some places on my list, but when the rain came back, I was off again in search of another seat at a coffee shop.

Even though I wasn’t as productive on this trip as I have been on others, I made the most of my time, despite the weather, and got to see a few places that I had on my list. Without a hint of irony, though, on the day that I was scheduled to head home, I woke up for breakfast, packed my bags, checked out of my hotel, and walked out into the kind of beautiful weather that Tainan is known for. With a few hours before my train was scheduled to depart, I decided to make the most of the little time I had and made my way to the historic Bao-An Station (保安車站), one of the locations that was pretty high up on my list.

If you’ve been following my blog for any period of time, you’re probably well-aware that one of my ongoing projects has been documenting Taiwan’s historic railway stations, especially those that date back to the Japanese-era, so this was one of the places on my list that I was really looking forward to visiting, and fortunately, I was able to check it out as it was on my way to the High Speed Rail Station that would eventually take me home.

View of the station from the train

Hopping on the train at Tainan Station and heading south on the commuter train, I couldn’t help but feel like I was back in Japan riding through the countryside. The scenery outside of the train, the bright natural light inside the carriage, and only the sound of the train seemed very Japan-like, but that’s probably because I’m more familiar with the trains up here in north where people are always chatting, playing on their phones and watching noisy videos. When the train stopped at Bao-an Station and I got off, that feeling of being in Japan became even stronger, because just across the platform was the small wooden station, which is architecturally identical to many of the older stations you’ll see in the countryside of Japan.

Amazingly, despite being one of the oldest of Taiwan’s remaining wooden train stations, and the amount of traffic that passes through on a daily basis, Bao-an Station remains in pretty good shape. Over the past century, a lot has changed in Taiwan, and the railway itself has been in a constant flux of modernization, but Bao-an Station has stayed the same, which I suppose you could say is credit to the architectural design that has allowed it to remain standing for so long. However, as an actively used heritage building, at some point it’s probably going to have to get a little love in the form of restoration in order to ensure that we’re able to enjoy it for many years to come.

As I usually do with these articles, I’ll start by introducing the history of the train station, its architectural design, and then give readers information about how to visit if they’re interested in checking out this little piece of Taiwanese history.   

Shiyaroken Station (車路墘驛 / しやろけんえき)

To start, I suppose I should talk about the name of the station, because, you might be a little confused with the discrepancy between with the title of the article and the name of the station provided above. Admittedly, this is something that I was quite confused about myself as well until I dug into my research process for this article.

Suffice to say, the name of the station was changed to ‘Bao-an’ (保安) in the 1960s, nearly two decades after the end of the Japanese-era. For the six decades prior, the station was named ‘Shiyaroken' Station in Japanese, which came from the Taiwanese word “Tshia-loo-kinn” (車路墘). The interesting thing about this specific name, and the reason why I was confused, is that there were several areas in Taiwan in the early years of the Japanese-era with this name, but the Chinese character ‘qian’ (墘) is an older word that is rarely used these days in Mandarin, and pretty much non-existent in Japanese.

In addition to Tainan, you could also find places named ‘Tshia-loo-kinn’ in both Taichung and Pingtung as well, and in each case, the names date back to the Qing Dynasty, and (although I haven’t found any credible source regarding the origin of the name) likely referred to ‘road-side stops’ that were once located along the safe trading routes of the time.

To better understand the name, I’ll break it down for you:

  1. 車 (Tshia) - vehicle; car;

  2. 路 (loo) - road; path;

  3. 墘 (kinn) - Taiwanese word for ‘beside’ (旁邊) or ‘nearby’ (附近)

Take from that what you will - The important thing is that after the arrival of the Japanese, the name stayed the same, but it was pronounced “Shiyaroken” (しやろけんえき / シヤロケンエキ) in Japanese, which is actually quite similar to the Taiwanese pronunciation.

Staying on the subject of the station’s name, when it was changed from ‘Shiyaroken’ (or Tshia-loo-kinn) to ‘Bao’an’ in the 1960s, the reason for doing so, if you’re asking me, was a little strange. The official reason for the name change isn’t well-documented, but they changed it to ‘Bao’an’ in honor of the local Bao’an Temple (車路墘保安宮). The reason why I’d argue that this was a bit odd was because the temple wasn't actually all that close to the station, and was in fact much closer to Rende Station (仁德車站), the next stop south. It’s possible that they just changed the name to something that was easier for the ‘newer’ residents of Taiwan, who had trouble speaking Taiwanese, or possibly because the ticket-making system that was used at the time wasn’t actually compatible with the characters.

If you read my article about Taichung’s Zhuifen Train Station (追分車站), the original name of the station in Japanese was ‘Oiwake Railway Station’ (追分驛 / おいわけえき), but given that the Chinese characters for “Oiwake” (追分) are an abbreviation for a much more auspicious meaning in Mandarin, which translates as “chasing your dreams” or “pursuing your destiny” (追到緣分), they made a similar name change to another station nearby. In that case, the next station over, originally named ‘Oda Station’ (王田驛) was officially renamed ‘Chenggong Station’ (成功車站) in the 1960s. This became a hit with the locals, who collected tickets with the stations ‘Zhuifen - Chenggong’ (追分 - 成功) as together the stations translate almost literally as “make your dreams come true” (zhui fen cheng gong / 追分成功).

Given the time frame of that particular name change, I figured the distance from the temple ultimately didn’t really make much of a difference to the Taiwan Rail Corporation at the time because a ticket from the newly re-named ‘Bao’an Station’ (保安車站) to the nearby ‘Yongkang Station’ (永康車站) became an instant hit with locals. The reason for this was similar to the situation above as the tickets employed a homophonic pun in Mandarin that read in a clockwise manner became ‘Yongbao Ankang’ (永保安康), or literally, ‘Peace and health forever!’

Even though my article about Zhuifen Station predates this one, it was only until I started my research for my article did I realize that the ‘auspicious ticket’ thing was initiated at Bao’an Station. I had always assumed it was a result of the name change between Zhuifen and Chenggong.

This is why I enjoy doing all this research for these articles. I learn a lot in the process!

Link: Auspicious train ticket | 吉祥語車票 (Wiki)

With regard to the history of this station, it actually got its start quite early. As I mentioned before in my article about Taiwan’s Remaining Japanese-era Train Stations (台鐵現存日治時期車站), the Jukan Tetsudo Project (ゅうかんてつどう / 縱貫鐵道), known in English as the ‘Taiwan Trunk Railway Project,’ quickly got underway shortly after the Japanese took control of Taiwan. The project, which sought to have a railway constructed from Keelung in the north and Kaohsiung in the south (and beyond), was constructed in different phases, and the southern phase that connected Tainan to Takao (Kaohsiung) was completed quite early.

Amazingly, it would take just over a decade to have the entire west coast railway completed, but by the time the entire system was connected, Shiyaroken Station had already been in operation for about eight years on the southern stretch of the railway between Tainan and the port station in Kaohsiung.

When most people introduce the history of the station, resources will point to a specific date to when it was established, but I have to note that there is a bit of a caveat to those claims - Originally opening for service on November 29th, 1900 (明治33年) as ‘Shiyaroken Parking Lot’ (車路墘停車場), it would only be upgraded into a ‘station’ (驛) a few years later after the opening of the Shiyaroken Sugar Factory (車路墘製糖所), which was located a short distance away from the station. That being said, when the Sugar Factory opened, the station was moved about 1.5 kilometers north of its original location for the benefit of the staff at the factory, officially opening on November 10th, 1909 (明治42年).

Oh, and remember when I mentioned above that the local Bao’an Temple was much closer to Rende Station? Well, that station, which opened in 2014, sits on the same location as the original Shiyaroken Station.

Note: That ‘Parking Lot’ reference above was a very literal translation - Today, the word most commonly used in Mandarin for ‘parking lot’ is ‘停車場’, which is literally: ’Stop Car Space’, but a long time ago in Japanese, the same characters were used to identify a minor train station. The term, ‘Teishajo’ (停車場 / ていしゃじょう) was a designation that was mostly used for smaller train stations, as opposed to the larger stations, known in Japanese as ‘eki’ ( / えき), which is another word that isn’t used in Mandarin.

Although Bao-an Station opened in its current location in 1909, another aspect of the station’s history that isn’t so well-advertised is that it likely wasn’t upgraded into an ‘eki’ (驛 / えき) type of station until 1928 (昭和3年), when the currently used station house was constructed. So, if we’re being strict with these things, the station might have been established well-over a century ago, but the building that we can pass through today is just a few years short of a century old.

Interestingly, though, the history of this station is one that goes in spurts where there’s a flurry of activity, and then some downtime when not much happens for a few years, which then repeats itself. The little station has pretty much remained the same for over a century, but the world around it has changed considerably, and the number of people passing through its turnstiles have been reflected by these changes. Obviously, the number of people passing though the station was consistent while the nearby Sugar Factory was in operation between 1909 (明治42年) and 2003 (民國92年) as the station was only a stop away from the downtown core of Tainan.

Link: Ten Drum Rende Creative Park (Wiki) | Ten Drum Tainan (Taiwan Everything)

In 2001, though, daily traffic at the station increased by about 500% due to the popularity of the 'Yongkang - Bao-an’ auspicious ticket. By the time that craze settled down, though, the number of passengers started to decrease due to fewer trains stopping at the station. Most recently, thanks to the construction of the High Speed Rail Station and the new Shalun Branch Line (沙崙線), the number of arrivals at the station has once again started to increase, and this was helped out even more by the opening of the beautiful Chimei Museum, which is within walking distance of the station.

During my visit to the station, on a beautiful sunny Monday morning, it was quite busy with a number of passengers coming and going as well as a number of tourists who had come to check out the station prior to walking over to the Chimei Museum (奇美博物館).

Roof damage on the lower right side.

With all of the tourist traffic passing through the station, it remains relatively attractive, and nostalgic for a lot of people, but looking at it through my telephoto lens, its obvious that it is in need of some urgent reparations and restoration. Sections of the roof have begun to sink in, and the city government has cited termite damage on the wooden exterior.

As a Protected Heritage Property, eventually they’ll have to restore the building, but unlike many of Taiwan’s other older railway stations, its highly unlikely that it's in any danger of being torn down or replaced any time soon.

In the drop-down box below, I’ll offer a concise timeline of the stations history and then I’ll introduce its architectural design:

    • 1896 (明治29年) - The Colonial Government puts a team of engineers in place to plan for a railway network on the newly acquired island.

    • 1900 (明治33年) - Shiyaroken Station (車路墘停車場) opens for service on a limited track running between Tainan Station (臺南停車場) and Takao Port Station (打狗停車場).

    • 1902 (明治35年) - After years of planning and surveying, the government formally approves the Jukan Tetsudo Project (縱貫鐵道 / ゅうかんてつどう), a railway plan to be constructed along the western and eastern coasts of the island.

    • 1908 (明治41年) - The 400 kilometer Taiwan Western Line (西部幹線) is completed with a ceremony held within Taichung Park (台中公園) on October 24th. For the first time, the major settlements along the western coast of the island are connected by rail from Kirin (Keelung 基隆) to Takao (Kaohsiung 高雄).

    • 1909 (明治42年) - Shiyaroken Station is relocated 1.5 kilometers north of its original location for the benefit of staff of the newly established Shiyaroken Sugar Factory (車路墘製糖所).

    • 1920 (大正9年) - In a major administrative restructuring policy, Tainan Prefecture (臺南州) is officially established, stretching from Chiayi to just south of Bao-an Station.

    • 1928 (昭和3年) - The current station house, constructed entirely of cypress from Alishan (阿里山) is completed and opens for service.

    • 1945 (昭和20年) - The Second World War comes to an end and the Japanese surrender control of Taiwan to the Chinese Nationalists.

    • 1962 (民國51年) - Shiyaroken Station is officially renamed ‘Bao’an Station’ (保安車站).

    • 2001 (民國90年) - Bao’an Station is recognized as a Tainan City Heritage Building (臺南市市定古蹟)

    • 2001 (民國90年) - Bao’an Station experiences a massive surge in traffic due to the popularity of the Yongkang - Bao’an tickets. Daily ridership increases by at least 500% for the year.

    • 2008 (民國97年) - A second platform is constructed at Bao’an Station, creating the first expansion.

    • 2011 (民國100年) - The Shalun Branch Line (沙崙線) running from Tainan Station to Shalun Station, next to the Tainan High Speed Rail Station opens for service. The number of commuter trains departing Tainan Station is increased, which means that the number of daily departures and arrivals at Bao’an Station increases.

    • 2014 (民國103年) - In order to prepare for the construction of the future Tainan City subway system, the Taiwan Railway Corporation established Rende Station (仁德車站), about 1.5 kilometers south of Bao’an Station on the site of the Shiyaroken Station that was established in 1900.

    • 2015 (民國104年) - The Chimei Museum (奇美博物館) opens in new location within walking distance of the station, which creates an increased amount of daily traffic.

Architectural Design

Whenever it’s time to start detailing the architectural design specifics of the historic Japanese-era buildings that I write about, it’s often where I end up spending the majority of my time researching and writing, but, fortunately, in this case, I won’t need that much time. I’ve already written a number of articles about Taiwan’s historic train stations, each of which was constructed in an almost identical architectural design. If you’ve read any of my articles about the Coastal Five Treasures (海線五寶), Xiangshan Station (香山車站) or  Qidu Station (七堵車站), you’re likely to notice that most of these stations all appear relatively similar,, save for some minor differences.

The reason for this uniform style of design is because during the late Taisho (大正) and early Showa (昭和) eras, prior to the Second World War, many of the (smaller) train stations constructed in not only Taiwan, but Japan as well, were built in what would become a generic style of station design that offered all the functionality that a train station of the era required, were earthquake proofed in design, and most importantly were cost-effective.

Even though the number of stations constructed in this design have deceased in the post-war era, its rarely ever due to the quality of their design, but the changing demographics of the community that they serve. So, even though you can still find quite a few of these stations around Taiwan and Japan, it’s mostly because they have been constructed in areas where the population hasn’t changed much, and a larger station has yet to become necessary.

Considered to be an architectural fusion of a traditional Japanese-style building with western elements, what I personally find surprising about the design of these stations is that there doesn’t seem to be a specific term in the Japanese language used to describe it. Something I’ve had to learn the hard way during my time researching these things, though, is that it is often difficult to come across these specifics from Japanese sources. In the Chinese language, however, the design of these stations is referred to literally as a ‘Hiraya Kirizuma Western Style Wooden Station House” (木造平家切妻洋小屋), which probably doesn’t tell you much, but does offer a pretty good idea of what to expect from the design of the station if you’re familiar with the terms.

To help you better understand, what it basically means is that these buildings are a ‘single-story’ (平家) station ‘constructed of wood’ (木造), which makes use of the traditional Japanese ‘kirizuma’ style (切妻) of architectural design with 'western fusion elements’ (洋小屋) mixed in. That being said, the ‘western’ aspects of the architectural design were, for the most part, inspired by the architectural design of Western Baroque (巴洛克建築), which was quite popular with the Japanese architects of the day. However, for cost-saving measures, the western elements of design were minimal, and Bao’an Station in particular featured far fewer of these western-inspired elements than its contemporaries.

Like the other stations mentioned earlier, Bao’an Station was constructed using the traditional irimoya-zukuri (入母屋造 / いりもやづくり) style, an ubiquitous style of Japanese design that is most often referred to in English as the “East Asian hip-and-gable roof,” which is a term that I don’t really think gives people a good indication about what’s actually going on with this style of design. The key thing to keep in mind about the ‘irimoya’ style is that despite the English translation, it doesn’t necessarily tell you what ‘variation’ of roof is constructed on any given building, but it does indicate that buildings constructed in this style will feature one of traditional Japanese architecture’s various styles of intricate roof design.

I probably couldn’t come up with a more appropriate English term for describe these buildings, but, for me, a name that focuses more on the ‘moya’ (母屋 / もや) aspect of “irimoya”, might offer people a better idea of what’s going on. In layman’s terms, the ‘moya’ is essentially the core, or the ‘base' of the building, and when the irimoya-style is used, the ‘moya’, (literally the “mother-house”) is usually considerably smaller than the roof, which extends well-beyond the base.

This is a style of design that is also used in much more decorative buildings, such as Shinto Shrines, Buddhist Temples, and Martial Arts Halls, but is also commonly used for anything from houses to train stations like this one. The purpose of the building, and the amount of decorative elements aren’t really all that important, what always remains the same is that as the roof eclipses the size of the base and that the building features a genius network of roof trusses and pillars both within the interior and on the exterior of the building that allow the roof to become the defining aspect of the building, as well as ensuring that its weight is evenly distributed to ensure that the whole thing doesn’t collapse.

In this case, the roof of the station was designed using the kirizuma-zukuri (妻造的樣式) style, which is one of the oldest and most commonly used roof designs in Japan. Translated simply as a “cut-out gable” roof, the kirizuma-style is regarded as one of the more ‘basic’ styles of Japan’s ‘hip-and-gable’ roof designs. To explain as briefly as I can, it is a two-sided roof that can appear simple in design from the front of the building, but as you walk around the perimeter, you’ll notice that it becomes much more complex. The roof is layered with the eaves on the lowest layer extending well beyond the base, supported by a network of pillars that surround it on three sides. The top layer is where you’ll find the ”cut-out gable” with the gable-section of the roof covering the eastern side of the building, while the longer ‘hipped' side ‘cuts’ through it. Both of the ends of the ‘hip’ section feature triangular-shaped “tsuma” (妻 / つま) or gable-ends, with rectangular windows placed in the middle that allow natural light into the interior of the building. 

The upper part of the roof is covered with Japanese-style black tiles (日式黑瓦) while the lower eaves are covered with rain-boards (雨淋板) that help to direct the flow of rain water on rainy days. The black tiles that cover the roof appear to be quite old, and some of them are in pretty bad shape.

I haven’t been able to find any information regarding their age, but its possible that they could be the original tiles from the Japanese-era given that they tend to have a pretty long shelf life. They’re likely going to have to be replaced at some point in the near future, though. The original rain-boards, though, have already been replaced, and if their replacements are any indication, it might be better if those black tiles can last a little longer.

Even though the roof is somewhat basic in terms of its decorative elements, especially when compared to the hip-and-gable style roofs you’ll find on other Japanese-era buildings, there are still a number of elements to take note of, I’ll list each of those specific elements below with a diagram that should help you better understand what’s going on.

  1. Hiragawara (平瓦 /ひらがわら) - A type of arc-shaped clay roofing tile.

  2. Munagawara (棟瓦 /むねがわら) - Ridge tiles used to cover the apex of the roof.

  3. Onigawara (鬼瓦/おにがわら) - Decorative roof tiles found at the ends of a main ridge.

  4. Nokigawara (軒瓦/のきがわら) - The roof tiles placed along the eaves lines.

  5. Noshigawara (熨斗瓦/のしがわら) - Thick rectangular tiles located under ridge tiles.

  6. Sodegawara (袖瓦/そでがわら) - Cylindrical sleeve tiles.

  7. Tsuma (妻/つま) - The triangular shaped parts of the gable on the roof under the ridge.

  8. Hafu (破風板/ はふいた) - Bargeboards that lay flat against the ridge ends to finish the gable.

Moving on from the roof, starting from the main entrance to the station, you’ll find a roof-covered ‘kurumayose' (車寄/くるまよせ) porch that protrudes from the flat front of the building with a pair of pillars holding it up. The roof of the porch features a similarly designed kirizuma-style roof facing in the opposite direction of the roof above, adding to the three dimensional design of the building.

The ‘moya’ base of the building is a cube-like structure that is split into two sections, with one side reserved for passengers, and the other for the staff working at the station. One of the major differences between this station and some of the others mentioned earlier is that the passenger side is considerably larger, and features beautiful wooden benches. When you walk into the building from the front entrance, you are met with the ticket booth on the left while the right-hand side is covered on all three sides with beautiful Japanese-style paneled sliding glass windows (日式橫拉窗), which assist in providing a considerable amount of Tainan’s natural light into the interior as well as a bit of breeze on hot days.

One of the most notable aspects of the interior is the wooden gate located near the ticket booth. Gates like this were once very common in train stations during the Japanese-era as a means to help filter people in and out while waiting in line, but few of them remain these days. The gate was originally constructed to look like the Japanese word for ‘money’ (円), but was likely replaced at some point and looks a little different now.

Similarly, the entrance to the train platform features two wooden partitions that connect to a fence at the rear of the station, which date back to the Japanese-era. Now that the station has transitioned to electronic card swiping, the original turnstiles have been removed, so you can simply just walk through to get to your train.

This is the part of the station’s architectural design that I appreciate the most as the open gates transition into a fence-like structure that includes a roof-covered portico that surrounds the building on three sides. Part of an intricate network of carpentry genius, the pillars that connect to the fence assist in distributing the weight of the roof, but they also prevent people from jumping over the fence to take a free train ride. The fence, pillars, and gates combine to make an almost three-dimensional design and add complex geometric shapes to the design of the building, and are part of the western-inspired elements mentioned above.

In the past, in order to get to the train platform, you literally had to cross the train tracks and walk up a set of stairs that brought you to the island platform. Given how dangerous this is, especially since the introduction of Taiwan’s express trains that speed through without stopping at the station, an overpass has been constructed that allows passengers to safely make their way to the platform area. As I mentioned earlier, the platform area is one of the areas that has been expanded several times since the Japanese-era, which has allowed the station to keep up with the modern changes to the railway, while maintaining the same historic station house. When passengers are waiting for the train on the platform, you can enjoy a pretty good view of the rear of the station, the roof of the building, and the trees that were planted next to the building when it was originally constructed.

Finally, while not exactly part of the architectural design, I’ll conclude by mentioning the trees. One of the things that I’ve really started to appreciate about Japanese architecture, especially when it comes to the construction of buildings, is that they always plant trees next to the building as a time capsule of sorts that helps to show how old the building is. In this case, we have what has become known as the ‘Bao’an Three Treasures’ (保安三寶), which are likened to 'The Three Star’ deities (三星 / 福祿壽), Fu (福), Lu (祿), and Shou (壽), who are often found adorning the top of Taiwan’s temples. To the right of the main entrance, you’ll find an Orange Jasmine (七里香) while the much taller Palm tree (棕櫚樹) and Coastal she-oak (木麻黃) are to the left. If the memorial plaque next to trees is any indication, they date back to 1909 (明治42年) and predate the current station house, which is pretty cool.

Getting There

 

Address: #10, Alley 529, Wenxian Road, Rende District, Tainan City

(臺南市仁德區保安里文賢路一段529巷10號)

GPS: 22.932940, 120.231660

How is one to get to Bao’an Train Station?

You take the train, of course.

Given all the modernization that has taken place on Taiwan’s railway, the fact that you can still take a train to one of the nation’s oldest stations is pretty cool.

So you should definitely take the train. You do however have other options for getting there. 

The station is located only one stop south of Tainan Train Station, and the ride take only about seven minutes to get there. So, if you find yourself the proximity of the downtown core of Tainan, you shouldn’t have much of a problem hopping on a train. Likewise, if you’ve travelled into the city by High Speed Rail, you can transfer to a commuter train from the Shalun Train Station (沙崙車站) and take the train to Bao’an Station, which is a seventeen minute ride.

As a smaller station though, Bao’an Station isn’t serviced by every train headed south rom Tainan, so if you want to visit, you’ll need to make sure that you get on one of the silver Local Commuter Trains (區間車). 

Bus

In terms of buses, there are a few options that’ll help you get to the station, or the Chimei Museum (奇美博物館), which is within walking distance of the station. Located a short distance from the main entrance of the station, you’ll find a roof-covered pavilion set up where buses will come in off the main road and pick people up and drop them off. There are options that will take you to downtown Tainan, as well as others that will take you to the High Speed Rail Station, and beyond.

The following bus routes are available at the Bao’an Station stop:

Tainan City Bus (幹支線公車): Red Line #3, Red Line #4

High Speed Rail Shuttle Bus (高鐵快捷公車): #H31

Kaohsiung Bus (高雄客運): #239, #8042, #8046

I’ve linked to each of the bus routes above, but Taiwanese websites like this are notoriously unreliable, so if you click on any of the links and they don’t work, you should be able to just search the bus route on your own, and you’ll be able to find the link that they’re currently using.

Youbike

The bus stop is also home to a large Youbike Station where you can swipe your EasyCard and hop on one of the shared bicycles. If you’ve taken a Youbike on the ride from Tainan, you can easily dock the bicycle at the docking station in front of the train station and check out the train station, or take the train back to the city.

If you haven’t already, I highly recommend downloading the Youbike App to your phone so that you’ll have a better idea of the location where you’ll be able to find the closest docking station.

Link: Youbike - Apple / Android

Whether you’re simply on your way to the much larger, and (probably) much more interesting Chimei Museum nearby, a stop by this historic train station is an added bonus to your excursion out of Tainan. There aren’t too many stations like this left in Taiwan, and the fact that it still looks so great after nearly one hundred years is a testament to the skills of the carpenters and architects of the era. If you're just getting off the train to before heading else, make sure to take a few minutes to enjoy the historic station, and don’t forget to take a few photos at the same time.

References

  1. Bao'an Railway Station | 保安車站 中文 | 保安駅 日文 (Wiki)

  2. 保安車站 (國家文化資產網)

  3. 保安車站 (國家文化記憶庫)

  4. 保安車站 (鐵貓)

  5. 保安車站 (臺灣驛站之旅)

  6. 保安車站 (Blair and Kate's 旅遊與美食)

  7. 臺南市文化資產 (Wiki)

  8. 112 年度臺南市文資防護專業服務中心成果報告書 (臺南市文化資產管理處)

  9. 臺灣鐵道旅行案內 (臺灣總督府交通局鐵道部)

  10. 台南縱貫線木造車站巡禮 - 保安車站、林鳳營車站、後壁車站 (LINE Today)

  11. 仁德糖廠 (Wiki)

  12. 木造車站-海線五寶 (張誌恩 / 許正諱)


Gallery / Flickr (High Res Photos)

Jiantian Historic Temple (劍潭古寺)

No matter where you go in Taiwan, it’s highly likely that you’ll encounter a 7-11 or a temple along the way - finding either is about as simple as finding a cup of coffee, and when you’re a tourist, you’re blessed with a multitude of choices to compete for your precious, but limited travel time.

For most people, visiting one or two of what are considered Taipei’s ‘Top Three’ temples is more than enough ‘temple-time’ during a short visit to Taiwan, but there are a number of impressive places of worship in the capital, as well as around the country, where tourists can spend time learning more about the history and culture of this country than they ever will in most of its museums.

I’ve been writing about Taiwan for almost a decade now, and even though I’ve spent a considerable amount of time recommending that people travel outside of the capital in order to better understand, and enjoy all that this beautiful country has to offer, it’s also important to face the fact that not every tourist has the opportunity, or the time to make their way down south. So even though I’d personally highly recommend anyone who visits Taiwan to pay a visit to Tainan’s Confucius Temple, its Grand Mazu Temple or Lukang’s Longshan Temple over most of the places of worship on the ‘Top Three’ list above, like I said, not everyone has the ability to leave Taipei.

Fortunately, there are a number of historic places of worship within the Greater-Taipei area that wonderfully compliment the city’s so-called ‘Top Three’ temples, so if you’ve discovered, like I have, an interest in visiting this sort of destination, here are some of the others I recommend checking out while you’re in town:

Today, I’m going to introduce another one of the city’s more prominent places of worship, and one that should be on your list of places to visit if you have some extra time while you’re in town. Boasting a history that is arguably longer than any other place of worship in Taipei, there’s certainly something special about this temple, but to tell the truth, it’s also somewhat of a confusing place as even locals have a difficult time understanding its significance.

Most commonly referred to either as Jiantan Temple (劍潭寺), or Jiantan Historic Temple (劍潭古寺), what I personally find interesting about this temple is the addition of the word “ancient” or “historic” (古) to its title in both Chinese and in English. There are surprisingly very few places of worship in Taiwan that make the concerted effort to put the word ‘historic’ directly in their name - although in some cases I think they’d prefer you just assume that’s the case - nevertheless, as one of Taipei’s ‘first’ places of worship, this one holds a special place within the history of the city.

The other thing that I think is important to point out about the name of this temple is the name ‘Jiantan’ (劍潭), which is probably confusing for tourists who might not be so familiar with Taipei’s geography. These days, the name ‘Jiantan’ is more or less synonymous with the Jiantan MRT Station (劍潭捷運站), which is home to Shilin Night Market (士林夜市), another one of Taipei’s most popular tourist destinations. Unfortunately, if you’re thinking that a visit to this temple could be combined with a visit to the night market, you might be disappointed. It’s actually not that close.

Never fear, though, as I move on below, I’ll provide a detailed explanation of the temple’s confusing history, how you can get there, all of which should help anyone who reads this better understand the temple, its special architectural design, and ultimately the history of the area we refer to as ‘Jiantan’ today. Before I start though, I have to say that even though this temple is one of the city’s oldest places of worship, it unfortunately doesn’t receive as much attention as it deserves, and very little has been written about it in the English-language, so I hope this article answers any questions you might have about it.

Jiantan Temple (劍潭古寺)

Legend has it that during the 17th Century, while Koxinga (鄭成功) and his army were sailing up the Keelung River, on their way to remove the Dutch from the island, they came upon a sudden and massive storm caused by river serpents. Attempting to prevent them from going any further, the storm was so violent that many in the army wanted to turn around. Koxinga, being the ever-so-clever pirate and experienced captain, was undeterred by the serpent’s interference in his plans, drew his sword and subdued the serpent. However, while in the midst of the fierce battle, his ‘sword’ was lost in the deep pool of water where the serpent lived.

For those of you who are unaware, the words “jian” (劍) and “tan" (潭) when put together basically translate as “Sword Pool” or “Sword Pond,” so even though the Koxinga legend is just local folklore, he was such a prolific figure in Taiwan’s history that a story about him mistakenly dropping his sword into a pool of water was reason enough to give a place a name.

Obviously, when it comes to the origin of the name, historians point to factual events that took place between Dutch traders, and the local indigenous people, but with regard to this temple, the legend of Koxinga is of particular note as you’ll discover later.

Its important to note that there was once a pond along the banks of the Keelung River that had been referred to as “Jiantan” for several hundred years. Located at a point of the river where the it curves between the areas we know today as Dazhi (大直) and Shilin (士林), that pond has since disappeared due to river diversion projects that sought to control water levels and prevent parts of the city from flooding during typhoons.

Today, the area we refer to as Jiantan covers several hundred hectares of land within the city, and even has a mountain that shares the same name.

Link: Jiantan Mountain (劍潭山)

Jiantan Temple during the Japanese-era

If one legend weren’t enough, another explains that in 1634 (崇禎7年), a monk named Huarong (僧侶華榮和尚) was dispatched from his monastery on Putuo Mountain (普陀山) to deliver a stone statue of Guanyin to Taiwan. Arriving in Taiwan at the port in Tamsui (淡水), he continued south on the road to Keelung (基隆), but along the path he encountered a massive red snake that was blocking the way. Personally, I’m not particularly a huge fan of snakes, and if I encountered one while hiking in Taiwan, I’d likely turn around, but for Huarong, this was deemed as an auspicious event.

Note: The number ‘eight’ is an auspicious number for Buddhists, referring to either the Dharma Wheel (法陀) or the Eight Great Bodhisattvas.

Instead of taking off like I would have done, he set up camp for the night where the Buddha appeared before him in his dreams and instructed him to go to the local port (probably in Bangka), and solicit donations from eight merchant captains. When he woke up, he made his way to the port where he came across the eight ships in his dream and when the merchants on the ships heard his story, they donated graciously to his cause. With the money donated by the local merchants, Huarong had a thatched hut built on the location where he came across the red snake, and that became the home of the Guanyin Statue, instead of its original destination in Keelung.

Later, in the early eighteenth century, the thatched hut, which had become known as the Guanyin Pavilion (觀音亭) was replaced by a more formal temple, known as the “Western Temple” (西方寶剎). That name, however, wasn’t one that would remain for very long as the temple was renamed Jiantan Temple (劍潭寺) in 1746 (乾隆11年).

Over the next century, Jiantan Temple became one of the more prominent Buddhist temples in northern Taiwan, resulting in a number of restoration and expansion projects to accommodate the number of monks who came to serve at the temple. Then, when the abbot of the Bangka Longshan Temple (艋舺龍山寺) took administrative control of the temple, he once again oversaw another expansion project that would not only benefit Jiantan Temple, but Longshan Temple as well with monks being able to travel back and forth between two of northern Taiwan’s most important temples.

For the next half century, things more or less stayed the same at the temple, but when the Japanese took control of Taiwan in 1895 (明治28年), the situation changed almost overnight. When the Governor General of Taiwan, Kodama Gentaro (兒玉源太郎) requested monks from the Rinzai school (臨濟宗) of Zen Buddhism to come to Taiwan to promote Japanese Buddhism, the influence of Japanese-style Buddhism started taking over on the island, and Jiantan Temple was promptly converted into a Myoshin Temple (妙心寺).

Link: Huguo Rinzai Temple (臨濟護國禪寺)

The interesting thing to keep in mind was that during the Meiji Restoration (明治維新), which started decades before the Japanese took control of Taiwan, Buddhism was classified by the government as a source of foreign interference. It was during this time that the more than a thousand year old tradition of fusion between Buddhism and Shinto were forcibly separated with the Buddhist temples that were constructed next to Shinto Shrines torn down. Here in Taiwan, though, Buddhism, had a long established a foothold on the island thanks to places of worship like Jiantan Temple, thus they became one of the tools that the Japanese authorities used to help bring the two peoples together.

Ironic given that Buddhism was suppressed back in Japan.

From the outset, the Japanese brought Buddhist monks with them to serve roles within the military as ‘chaplain-missionaries’, offering spiritual guidance during the initial years of the occupation. In addition to serving the military, the monks began to construct language schools and charity hospitals where they would focus on improving the lives of average Taiwanese citizens as well as promoting Japanese-style Buddhism. Over the next few decades, the temple continued to grow, and between 1918 and 1924, the temple was completely reconstructed, making use of modern construction techniques to ensure its longevity. The irony however was that just over a decade after the rebuild was completed, the temple was then forced to relocate due to an expansion project at the Taiwan Grand Shrine (臺灣神宮), which was also located on Jiantan Mountain (劍潭山) to the rear of the temple.

With insufficient funds available for the construction of a new temple, the administration came up with a plan to have the buildings completely deconstructed, and then reconstructed with the materials that could be salvaged in a new location. Migrating several kilometers away to the Dazhi (大直) area, the temple was carefully put back together again. However, the new plot of land that was allocated for the temple wasn’t nearly as larger as the original space, so alterations had to be made, and as you may have noticed from the historic photo above, it is considerably smaller today.

In its current location for nearly a century, Jiantan has been restored several times, repairing elements of the temple that have allowed it to remain intact while also bringing it back to life by refining the building’s decorative elements which were once its defining features.

As one of Taipei’s first major places of worship, predating many of the capital’s other major temples, Jiantan Temple has a long and storied history and while it’s not uncommon for places of worship to be moved to a new location, the experience of deconstructing the temple and sending putting it back together in another location is reminiscent of the nearby Lin An Tai Mansion (林安泰古厝), which had a similar experience.

In 2004 (民國93年), Jiantan Temple was officially recognized by the Taipei City Government under the Cultural Heritage Preservation Act (文化資產保存法) as a protected heritage building (歷史建築).

Link: 臺北市歷史建築列表 (List of Taipei City Protected Heritage Buildings)

Whether you refer to this temple as Jiantan Temple (劍潭寺) or Jiantan Ancient Temple (劍潭古寺), it’s up to you, but one of the things that sets this one apart from many of the other historic temples around Taipei is that it features a little park where it proudly displays its history. Some of the objects within the park, mostly stone tablets and pillars are things that you probably won’t see anywhere else in the capital, but are much more common in Tainan where historic temples are found on almost every street corner. If you visit the temple, I highly recommend you take some time to check out some of the objects on display, even though they are admittedly pretty old and in some cases the words that have been etched on the stone have started to fade.

Deities Enshrined at Jiantan Temple

As you saw from the history detailed above, from the outset, Jiantian Temple was dedicated to Guanyin (觀音), the Chinese version of Avalokiteśvara, the Buddha of Compassion. With a statue brought directly from Putuo Mountain (普陀山), one of China’s four sacred Buddhist mountains, it shouldn’t be much of a surprise to anyone that the figures enshrined within the temple are for the most part, Buddhist. That being said, similar to what you’ll experience if you visit Bangka’s Longshan Temple, which is also primarily a Buddhist place of worship, over the years, figures from Chinese folk religion have been added over the years to the shrine. In Taiwan, this is something that has become quite common, so within the temple you’ll also find shrines dedicated to ‘deities’ who you won’t traditionally find in Buddhist temples elsewhere, especially in other countries where Buddhism is the predominant religion.

  • Guanyin (觀世音菩薩) - As noted earlier, Jiantan Temple was (historically) dedicated primarily to the Buddha of Compassion, Guanyin (觀音), one of the most prolific Buddhist figures in Taiwan. Within the shrine room, you’ll find several different statues dedicated to different incarnations of Guanyin, with two large statues of a sitting Guanyin on either side of the main shrine. The original statue has since been moved to a new location within the main shrine and is somewhat difficult to see amongst the crowd of Buddhist figures in the main shrine. The most important difference between the various statues of Guanyin is that the original is regarded as a ‘Child-Bearing Guanyin’ (送子觀音). In front of the historic statue, you’ll find a version of a sitting Guanyin and as is usually the case, she is accompanied by her two acolytes, a pair of children who went to her side while she was meditating at Mount Putuo, Longnu (龍女) and Shancai (善財童子).

  • Shakyamuni Buddha (釋迦牟尼) - In one of the most recent changes to the ‘ancient’ temple, a statue of Shakyamuni Buddha was added to the main shrine in the post-war period. The jade statue was added shortly after the Foguangshan Organization took over administrative control of the temple, which is something I’ll talk briefly about below. The statue holds a ‘seal’ (降魔印) for subjugating demons. The interesting thing about the statue is that its appearance isn’t typical for a Chinese-style Buddha statue. It appears more as if it came from South East Asia, more specifically the Myanmar area. It possibly came to Taiwan with Chinese refugees from the Yunnan region, but I’m not particularly sure about its origin. During my visit to the temple, I inquired about the design of the statue, and the person who I was talking to was surprised that I could tell the difference between an image of the Buddha from Myanmar compared to one that you’d typically find in Taiwan, but the explanation I received as to its origin wasn’t particularly convincing, and its likely that there were some politics involved that they didn’t really want to mention.

  • The Prince of Yanping (延平郡王) - Looking back to the legends of the naming of Jiantan, you might remember that one of the local folklore stories claims that Koxinga (鄭成功) threw his sword into the pond to dispatch a violent serpent that was preventing them from advancing. What I didn’t mention was that Koxinga would later go on to defeat the Dutch and proclaim a kingdom of his own in the south of Taiwan, known as the Kingdom of Tungning. Given that Koxinga’s legend shares a relationship with the local area, and his being deified in Taiwan after his death, it shouldn’t be a big surprise that there is a shrine dedicated in his honor at the temple. When you find a shrine dedicated to Koxinga in Taiwan, he’ll either be referred to as the Prince of Yanping (延平郡王), a title bestowed upon him by a Ming Emperor, or Kaishan Shengwang (開山聖王). Interestingly, if you climb Jiantan Mountain to the rear of the temple, you’ll find an entire temple dedicated to Koxinga, known as the Taipei Koxinga Temple (成功廟開臺聖王).

  • The Eighteen Arhats (十八羅漢) - On either side of the Main Hall, you’ll find wood-carved representations of the ‘Eighteen Arhats’, who are basically like the twelve disciples of Jesus. The original followers of the Buddha, the ‘Arthats’ are figures each of whom has attained enlightenment, but have dedicated their lives to being reincarnated on earth until everyone attains enlightenment. A common image in Taiwan, you’ll find nine of the arhats on each side of the shrine, and each of them appears quite differently, so you might want to take a moment to look at them as they are all interesting characters.

With regard to the statues in the shrine room, there has been somewhat of an unresolved controversy in recent years as the administration of the temple is now overseen by the large and powerful Foguangshan (佛光山) organization. The controversy revolves around a differing outlook between the followers of the original temple and the new organization that took over. Long story short, the main shrine was originally dedicated to Guanyin, but it was adjusted to provide a seat to the Shakyamuni Buddha, instead.

The historic statue of Guanyin was thus moved to a level below the Buddha, which, angered the followers of the temple. Likewise, some of the other statues of Guanyin that were originally in the temple were moved outside of the temple where they would get rained on and polluted from dirty air.

In the time since the controversy, which made headlines across the country, changes have been made to bring the statues of Guanyin back inside the temple, but the main shrine continues to place the Buddha in the main seat, which doesn’t particularly reflect the history of the temple.

Link: 主神換位 劍潭古寺主位觀音變佛陀 (TVBS)

Jiantan Ancient Temple Timeline

Obviously, Jiantan Temple couldn’t be considered an “ancient” temple if it didn’t have a long history. As one of the first Buddhist places of worship in Taipei, there is clearly a long and interconnected history that coincides with the development of Taiwan’s capital into the high-tech economic powerhouse that it is today. That being said, the history of the temple tends to be a little confusing, and not very well detailed in either Chinese or English. I’ve done my best to put together a list of events with regard to the temple’s history that should give readers an idea of the timeline of events over the past three centuries of its history.

Click the dropdown below to read more:

  • •1634 (崇禎7年) - Buddhist Monk Huarong (僧侶華榮和尚), travels to Taiwan from his monastery on the famed Putuo Mountain (普陀山) to welcome a stone statue of Guanyin to the island.

    •1718 (康熙57年) - A Buddhist temple named the ‘Western Temple’ (西方寶剎) was established along the banks of the Keelung River with Jiantan Mountain to its rear.

    1746 (乾隆11年) - Jiantan Temple (劍潭寺) is officially established.

    1773 (乾隆38年) - The temple goes through its first period of restoration.

    1800 (家慶5年) - The temple goes through another period of restoration.

    1836 (道光17年) - The temple goes through a period of expansion, making space for an official residence for the monks who stayed on-site.

    1843 (道光24年) - The abbot of Longshan Temple in Bangka assumes administrative control over the temple, and materials are donated to once again expand and restore the grounds.

    1895 (明治28年) - The Japanese Empire takes control of Taiwan.

    1899 (明治32年) - During the Japanese era, the temple became a Myoshin Temple (妙心寺), part of the Rinzai Sect (臨濟宗) of Japanese Buddhism.

    1914 (大正3年) - The monks living at the temple initiate a fundraising campaign to have the temple reconstructed.

    1918 (大正7年) - With the fund raising campaign completed, famed craftsman Chen Yingbin (陳應彬) is contracted to oversee a complete overhaul and redesign of the temple.

    1924 (大正13年) - The reconstruction project on the temple is completed, with a brand new traditionally Chinese-style design fused with Japanese elements and construction techniques.

    1937 (昭和12年) - Shortly after the expensive reconstruction of the temple is completed, an expansion project at the nearby Taiwan Grand Shrine (台灣神宮) forces the temple to relocate to another location a short distance away. Due to a lack of funds, the temple is more or less deconstructed, and then reconstructed in its original location.

    1945 (民國34年) The Second World War comes to an end and the Republic of China takes control of Taiwan

    1978 (民國67年) - A restoration project takes place, repairing and restoring some of the aging elements of the temple, and replacing the roof tiles with Taiwanese-style yellow tiles (黃色琉璃瓦).

    2004 (民國93年) - The temple is officially recognized as a protected heritage building (歷史建築).

    2007 (民國96年) - A restoration project takes place that restores the shape and design of the roof to its original 1924 design and all of the original decorative elements are carefully reproduced to reflect the original appearance of the temple.

    2017 (民國106年) - A newly constructed Guanyin Shrine is consecrated within the temple.

Architectural Design

The story of Jiantan Temple’s architectural design is a bit of a complicated one, and is something that you may have noticed in the timeline above has been altered several times, throughout its three-century long history. Over the years, the temple has been renovated, expanded, restored, reduced in size, and ultimately moved to an entirely new location.

Fortunately, thanks to the dedication of Japanese-era photographers, we have a pretty good idea of how it originally appeared prior to its migration, as you’ll have seen in some of those photos above. I’m not going to spend too much of your time talking about the temple’s past glory, or what is missing. Instead, I’m only going to focus on what you’ll experience when you visit today, which itself is a beautiful place of worship, full of complex design and decorative elements, some of which are uncommon in Taipei today.

If we take into consideration that the temple migrated to its current location during the Japanese-era, you’ll also discover that even though it maintains many traditional Taiwanese temple features, it is also a case-study in the fusion of Taiwanese-Japanese design of the era, which makes it quite special.

As I mentioned earlier, when the temple was forced to migrate, they lacked the necessary funds to construct an entirely new building. Thus, it was decided that instead of demolishing the original temple that they would have it deconstructed as carefully as possible in order to recycle the original materials to bring it back to life. Unfortunately, due to a lack of space on the plot of land that was allocated to the temple, and the difficulty of deconstructing the original, the end-result was a temple that was considerably smaller than the original.

The current design retains much of the original wood and stone that was used to construct the temple, which have been recycled. The size of the building is officially measured in ‘bays’ (開間), an ancient style of measurement that you won’t see mentioned very often in Taiwan these days, except for at historic places of worship like this. Essentially a ‘bay’ was the space between columns that held up the roof. Generally-speaking that was about 3.6 meters in length. Using this method, Jiantan Temple is officially eleven bays in length (面寬十一開間), which makes it just about 40 meters (131 feet) wide.

Keeping with the traditional design of a Hokkien-style temple, the facade of Jiantan Temple resembles that of the Front Hall (前殿) at Lukang’s famed Longshan Temple (鹿港龍山寺) in that it features a ‘Five Door Hall” (五門殿) style of design. In this style of design, there is a central wing that features the temple’s three main doors, with separate ‘dragon’ and ‘tiger’ wings (龍虎翼廊) on either side. Both of the wings feature a Swallow-Tail Roof (燕尾屋脊), which are equal in height, while the central portion is much higher. This style of roof, which is indicative of Hokkien-style architectural design differs from the typical style of ‘hip-and-gable’ roof that you’ll find at many Chinese, Japanese or Korean-style Buddhist temples. Yet it is one of the most common styles of architectural design with regard to the historic temples, mansions and ancestral halls around Taiwan.

Essentially, a ‘Swallow-Tail Roof’ is a roof that features an upward-curving ridge, resembling the tail of a swallow, and is typically adorned with a number of decorative elements, which are most often porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕). Depending on the amount of cash you have available, and how much you want to show off your wealth, this style of roof could be either single or dual-layered to add even more complexity. In this particular case, you might think with the varying heights between the wings and the central portion of the building that it is dual-layered, but it’s actually only a single-layer roof as the roofs over the wings are independent of the other. Nevertheless, despite the curvature of each of the roofs being one of their key features, you’ll notice that the mid-section is the most prominent as the two wings only feature half-curves, and neither of them reach as high as the mid-section.

One area where the Hokkien-style Swallow-Tail roof resembles that of a hip-and-gable roof is that the roof eclipses the base of the building in size, extending well beyond the front of the building. Thus, to help support the weight of the roof, you’ll find a number of pillars used for support both within the interior and on the exterior as well. The most prominent of these support pillars are located on either side of the middle door, and are beautifully-carved stone dragons that encircle the columns.

Link: Hokkien Architecture (Wiki)

While the temple may seem somewhat subdued in its design from afar, the devil is really in its finer details as the closer you look, the more exquisite you’ll discover its decorative elements are thanks to the 2007 restoration work that went into the temple (mentioned on the timeline above). It was at this time that the yellow cylindrical bamboo-like tiles (燒筒板瓦) that covered the roof were completely replaced as were almost all of the cut-and-stick decorations (剪黏), which are integral to Hokkien-style design.

The newly-designed decorative elements were part of a long research project that ultimately restored the original elements that you would have found at the original temple, when it was still in its original location. In this case, the temple contracted Pan Kundi (潘坤地), a master craftsman who is most well-known for his contributions to the restoration of Dalongdong’s Bao-An Temple (大龍峒保安宮), a Taiwanese national treasure, and recognized by UNESCO for its contribution to the preservation of cultural heritage.

One of the problems that might arise when you visit the temple today is that the ‘finer details’ mentioned above are abundant, and you may find yourself spending quite a bit of time looking at the decorative elements on top of the ridges, between the ridges, and along the ends of each of the them and contemplating their meaning. Never fear, I’ll do my best to answer some of those questions with the help of my telephoto lens!

Starting with the more obvious design elements, you’ll notice the ‘Double Dragon Pagoda’ (雙龍寶塔) directly in the middle of the apex of the roof. This is a decorative element that is common at Buddhist temples, and represents a number of important things - First, it is used to ward off evil spirits and fire, but it also represents ‘filial piety’ and ‘virtue’. Another way of interpreting it is by explaining that ‘pagodas’ were traditionally buildings where Buddhist texts were kept, so having the dragons encircling the pagoda in this way is a way of ‘protecting the Buddha’ or ‘precious things’.

The next thing you’ll probably notice is that on each of the ridges, there is a dragon-like creature facing toward the pagoda. In fact, this creature is referred to as an “Aoyu” (鰲魚), and is basically a carp that is in the process of transforming into a dragon featuring the head of a dragon and the body of a fish. Similar to the Dragon-Pagoda’s nature of helping to ward off fire or other disasters, the Aoyu are known for their ability to ‘swallow fire and spit water’ meaning that they’re also there to offer protection to the temple.

Conveniently located just under the two Aoyu in the mid-section, you’ll find one of the ‘Four Heavenly Kings’ (四大天王) accompanying them. Known as important Buddhist figures with regard to ‘protection’, in Mandarin, the names of the kings go together to form the idiom “fēngtiáoyǔshùn” (風調雨順), or “seasonable weather with gentle breeze and timely rain,” and by this point you’re probably wondering just how often temples burn to the ground. With the amount of candles and incense that are burnt in these temples, it probably shouldn’t be too surprising that it does, unfortunately, happen from time to time.

Two of the four Heavenly Kings on the far left and right.

The design of each of the kings is slightly different, but its important to offer a bit of detail:

  1. Virulhaka (增長天王) - holding a jeweled double-edged sword

  2. Vessavana (多聞天王) - holding a jeweled umbrella

  3. Dhatarattha (持國天王) - holding a pipa (a traditional musical instrument)

  4. Virupakkha (廣目天王) - holding a dragon in his hand

Link: Four Heavenly Kings (Wiki)

Once again, looking carefully along the Xishi Ridge (西施脊), the flat part of the top ridge, you’ll find some pretty intricate decorative elements in the space between the Four Heavenly Kings. Directly under the Dragon Pagoda, there is a mural that depicts the folklore story of ‘Guanyin conquering the phoenix’ (老古板的古建築之旅). The story, which originated in the Song Dynasty (宋朝), is a popular one in Taiwan that has been converted into a Taiwanese opera, which is often performed outside of temples. In the story, “Dapeng” (大鵬金翅明王), the Chinese manifestation of the Hindu deity Garuda turned into a human and came to earth to wreak havoc, forcing Guanyin to appear to make an appearance and back him under control. Legends regarding the mythical ‘Dapeng Phoenix’ appear throughout Chinese history, but in most of the stories, one of the commonalities is that it is often subservient to the Buddha or Guanyin.

One thing that confused me, and sent me down a bit of a rabbit hole looking for information, were the five animals located below the Guanyin mural. It is common to find ‘four’ animals depicted in this particular space within Taiwan’s temples, known as the ‘Auspicious Four Beasts’ (四祥獸), most often represented as a Tiger, Leopard, Lion and Elephant (虎豹獅象) - just like the so-called ‘Four Beasts Mountains’ in Taipei. Once again, as with the other decorative elements discussed so far, the presence of the beasts is meant to help suppress evil spirits and protect the temple. In this case, however, there are ‘Five Auspicious Beasts’ thanks to the inclusion of a Qilin (麒麟), a mythical Chinese chimera.

Link: Four Beasts Hiking Trail (四獸山步道)

Swallow-Tail roofs not only feature an upward-curving ridge at the apex of the roof but also often have eaves that descend from the ridge to the lower section of the roof where you’ll find a platform for additional decorative elements. Known in Taiwanese as the ‘paitoh’ (牌頭), you’ll find another set of elaborate murals at the end of each of the roof’s eaves.

There are two murals in the mid-section, and another one on each of the ends of the eastern and western wings. Two of the murals depict events from the life of the Buddha, while the other two are related to Guanyin.

Speaking of the wings, they feature similar decorative elements along their ridges, but in both cases are a bit more subdued, with simple depictions of peonies (牡丹), phoenixes (鳳), qilin (麒麟) and peacocks (孔雀).

Link: Animals & Mythical Creatures (Buddhist Symbols)

Moving on from the roof, located directly in front of the middle door in the centre of the building, you’ll find a beautifully designed Tiangong Incense Cauldron (天公爐) that features the words ‘Taipei Jiantan Historic Temple’ (台北劍潭古寺) carved on the bowl. The design here is slightly different than what you’d see at other places of worship in Taiwan as it is quite narrow compared to the cauldrons you’ll find at other temples. What remains the same is that you’ll find 'dragons grabbing pearls’ (雙龍戲珠) on either side and an octagonal-covered roof with three legs that represent a ‘tiger’ (寅), ‘horse’ (午) and ‘dog’ (戌), which are considered the ‘triad of heaven, earth and man’ (天地人).

Note: The ‘double dragons grabbing pearls’ (雙龍戲珠) are part of an ancient Chinese-language idiom that symbolizes humanity’s constant pursuit of happiness. It has also become an important image with regard to weddings as the harmony between husband and wife and mutual respect, humility and tolerance.

On either side of the cauldron you’ll find the beautifully-carved traditional stone dragon pillars (龍柱) that I mentioned earlier. The pillars, which aren’t from the original temple, are thought to be a product of the early 1900s, although you won’t find a date carved on them to prove that. Still, they’re well over a century old and have recently been given a bit of restoration. Featuring dragons that encircle each of the pillars. You’ll also find depictions of people and animals walking along each of the dragon's backs.

Directly in front of the cauldron, you’ll find a stone-carved Dragon Ramp (龍陞) between the ground and the platform in front of the doors. Also referred to as a ‘Royal Ramp’ (御路), the sloping ramp is reserved for the passage of royalty, or for whenever one of the statues has to be moved outside of the temple. Even though Taiwan doesn’t have any royalty, and the only royals to have ever visited the country were from the Japanese imperial family, these sloping ramps are a common feature among the temples you’ll find across the country.

Another common feature that the temple shares with most other places of worship in Taiwan is that there is a name plaque located above the middle door. The beautifully inscribed plaque (牌匾) features the temple’s name scripted in calligraphy and obviously if you take a look at it, it’s in pretty good shape, but in this case you can see the date it was placed, which was in August of 1981 (民國70年8月).

Speaking of recent additions, the shrine is currently home to lacquered wooden sliding panels with golden latticed windows. The wood-carved latticed windows (木柵窗格) don’t actually look like typical ‘windows’, but they feature intricately carved floral designs with birds and peacocks.

Finally, if you find yourself standing on the platform by the central door, you’ll discover that there are some really intricate and beautifully hand-carved wooden figures (木雕) that are used to decorate the trusses and eaves that connect to the pillars, which are instrumental in working together to help to support the weight of the roof. The carvings, which feature lions and murals, like the lattice windows below are all painted gold and make the exterior of the temple much more beautiful.

Before I move on to briefly describing the interior of the temple, I think it’s important to note that if you search for images of the temple online, you’re going to notice a stark difference between some of the photos you’ll find.

Prior to 2007, the temple looked considerably different, and very much more ‘plain’ that what you’ll see today. As I mentioned earlier, the design of the roof was completely changed to reflect the temple’s original design and it was during that restoration project that most of the decorative elements that I’ve described above were added. Given that the master craftsman mentioned above is known for not only his skills with traditional Hokkien cut-porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕), but also his wood-carving skills, it’s safe to say that all of the decorative elements that we enjoy today are thanks to his genius and hard work.

I won’t spend too much describing the interior of the temple, simply due to the fact that Hokkien-style Buddhist temples place an incredible amount of detail on the decorative elements of the exterior of the building while the interior is much more subtle. That being said, it has to be mentioned that, like the Lukang Longshan Temple, the temple features a beautifully designed ‘caisson’ (八卦藻井) in the main shrine room. Also known as a “Ba-Gua ceiling,” it would be an understatement to say that it is a masterpiece of architectural design. Octagonal in shape, each side of the caisson symbolizes eight symbols in Taoism that represent the fundamental principles of reality.

Somewhat difficult to describe properly, a caisson is basically a sunken layered panel in a ceiling that raises above the rest of the ceiling almost as if there were a dome above it. The layers of the caisson are often beautifully decorated and with a design at the center which in this case is just a painted flower that has a lamp hanging from the middle.

The most amazing thing to keep in mind about these caissons is that they are designed using expertly measured interlocking pieces that connect together in a way that means that neither beams nor nails are used to keep them in place. They simply lock together to form a six-layer deep spider-web of beauty. It takes a considerable amount of skill and patience to make one of these, so if you visit, one of the first things the people at the temple will do is make sure you take note of it.

As mentioned above, the interior of the temple is split into three sections with the main shrine in the middle. The wing to the left of the main shrine room is used for administrative purposes while the wing on the right is home to the Koxinga Shrine. The passage ways from both of the wings feature a couple of objects that should be noted. First, on the left wing, you’ll find a drum hanging within the passageway while on the right wing you’ll find a large stone bell, both of which are common within Buddhist temples as a way of indicating the time, attracting crowds, and announcing the beginning of preaching.

Finally, one last thing I’d like to point out is the ‘Dragon Altar’ (案桌) in the middle of the shrine - the altar features a painted dragon with the words ‘Jiantan Buddha’ (劍潭佛祖) on it. Likely one of the oldest parts of the current temple (save for the Guanyin statue), the altar dates back to the reign of Emperor Daoguang (道光) of the Qing Dynasty, placing it somewhere between 1821 and 1850. On either side of the altar, you’ll find some stone pillars with calligraphy engraved on each of them. Speaking to the history of the temple, they tell a story of how the migration of the temple to its current location wasn’t an optimal decision, but was forced upon them by the Japanese. I’d attempt to translate the text, but I have to admit that its beyond my level. Nevertheless, the sentiment is a bit salty.

The text is provided below for anyone interested:

Note:「寶劍劫灰塵爐火重新光大直,澄潭涵法雨川流終古擁觀音」and「庚辰劍潭古寺移築大直」

Getting There

 

Address: #6, Alley 805, Bei-An Road, Zhongshan District, Taipei

(臺北市中山區北安路805巷6號)

GPS: 25.085910, 121.554330

Conveniently located a short walk from an MRT station, visiting the Jiantan Historic Temple is actually quite straightforward, and is easily accessible for any tourist who’d like to visit. That being said, there are faster options than the MRT if you’re taking public transportation, so I’ll provide directions for both the MRT and the bus routes that will get you there below.

MRT

Located across the Keelung River from Taipei in Neihu’s Dazhi (大直) neighborhood, taking the MRT is obviously one of the most convenient methods of getting to the temple. That being said, even though the MRT drops you off pretty much at the temple’s doorsteps, its convenience doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s the quickest way to get there as the Brown Line trains are considerably slower than the normal underground MRT, and you’ll likely have to pass by Songshan Airport on your way there.

Nevertheless, if your preferred method of transportation is to take the MRT, simply get yourself on the Brown Line either at Zhongxiao Fuxing (忠孝復興) or Nanjing Fuxing (南京復興), heading in the direction of Nangang Station (南港捷運站). Getting off the train at Jiannan Road Station (劍南路捷運站), you’ll take Exit #1 and walk straight along Beian Road (北安路) where you’ll notice Jingye Park (敬業公園) on your right and the temple about a minute away on the left.

Bus

Similarly, given that the Jiannan Road MRT Station is located next to the Miramar Shopping Mall (美麗華百樂園), famed for its giant roof-top ferris wheel, there are a number of bus routes that will help you get there just as easily as the MRT. The closest bus stop to the temple is the Jiannan Road Stop (捷運劍南路站), directly in front of the MRT Station, so if you end up taking a bus, the walking route to the temple follows the same route.

Given the popularity of the Miramar Shopping Center, there are far too many bus routes that service this bus stop, and since Internet links for these things in Taiwan are notoriously unstable, I’m not going going to link to each of the routes individually here. I highly recommend travelers make use of the Taipei eBus website, or download the Bus Tracker Taipei app on your phone (Android | iOS) or use the Real-Time Bus Tracking service offered on the eBus website.

Here are the following routes that service the Jiannan Road Stop: Neihu Express Line (內湖幹線), Red #3 (紅3), Blue #26 (藍26), #28, #33, #42, #72, #208, #222, #247, #256, #267, #268, #287, #556, #620, #646, #681, #683, #902, #957, #1801

Youbike

If you’re feeling adventurous, you can easily hop on one of Taipei’s convenient shared Youbikes and make your way along the Keelung River all the way to Dazhi where you’ll be able to park the bike in front of the Jiannan Road MRT Station and make your way to the temple. If you’d like to make use of a Youbike, one of the best routes would be to grab a bike at the Yuanshan MRT Station (圓山捷運站), and make your way along the Dajia Riverside Park (大家河濱公園) where you’ll cross the pedestrian section of the Dazhi Bridge (大直橋), and from there making your way toward the Jiannan Road Station. There are of course a number of routes that you could take to get there, though, so I recommend opening up Google Maps on your phone and mapping out a bike route from wherever you’re starting from!

If you haven’t already, I highly recommend downloading the Youbike App to your phone so that you’ll have a better idea of the location where you’ll be able to find the closest docking station.

Link: Youbike App - Apple / Android

To be frank, I don’t really spend very much time in the Neihu area of Taipei. I’ve visited most of Taipei’s most important places of worship over the years, but this temple was one that I’ve always had on my list, but took quite a while to actually get around to. It’s not that I didn’t think it was important, or that it should be high on the list of places that people should visit when they’re in town, I just personally only find myself in that area when I’m hiking along the Jiantan Mountain ridge. Nevertheless, if you find yourself in the city and the temples are of particular interest to you, I highly recommend checking out some of those listed above, and if you’ve still got time left, head over to this one to check it out as well!

I suppose that doesn’t particularly sound like a rousing endorsement of the temple, but I’m not sure how much appeals to most short-term tourists. I have to say, though, that the temple was a lot more beautiful than I expected, and if the photos in this article are any indication, you’re in for a treat if you visit, especially since its a much more quiet place of reflection than some of the other major temples that tourists visit.

References

  1. 劍潭古寺 (Wiki)

  2. 劍潭 (Wiki)

  3. 劍潭寺 | Jiantan Temple (台灣宗教文化地圖)

  4. 劍潭寺 (國家文化資產網)

  5. 劍潭古寺 (台灣好廟網)

  6. 劍潭古寺 (Tony的自然人文旅記)

  7. 巴字第974號:劍潭古寺 (地球上的火星人)

  8. 中山區 劍潭古寺 — 隱身於熱鬧商場旁之臺北盆地最早古剎,有段被迫搬遷的過往 (Mobile01)

  9. 剪黏藝術欣賞(五) 劍潭古寺 (老古板的古建築之旅)

  10. 劍潭古寺 (淡水維基館)

  11. Jiantan Temple (Travel Taipei)

  12. Hokkien architecture | 闽南传统建筑 (Wiki)


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)