Taiwanese History

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)

Chiayi Shinto Shrine (嘉義神社)

I’ve been saying for quite a long time now that I need to spend more time in Chiayi. I’ve always had a special place in my heart for the city, which, like Tainan to the south, displays a tremendous amount of history on its streets.

For a long time, Chiayi had become run-down, and its youth were leaving for larger cities and better opportunities elsewhere. In recent years, however, all of that has changed, and Chiayi has become a hipsters paradise, its young people have returned, and they’ve brought with them genius ideas for coffee shops, restaurants, cocktail bars, etc.

The local government, to its credit, has been quick to offer a helping hand in fostering this youth takeover of the city, converting historic buildings into art museums and music venues, and opening a number of culture parks dedicated to both celebrating the history of the city, and its future at the same time. With all of the art exhibits, music festivals, restaurants and cafes, it has become considerably more difficult to make excuses for not visiting the city, especially since there are a large number of destinations that are on my list to take photos of and write about.

So, one weekend, in order to escape the rain in the north of Taiwan, I hopped on a train and made my way down south for a trip that helped reintroduce me to a city that I’ve loved for quite a while. This time, however, instead of spending all of my time taking photos, I kept my list of destinations short, and instead decided to enjoy some of the great coffee shops that have become really popular as of late, in addition to a hip new ramen shop.

Still, I had a couple of places on my list that were must visits, and the first of which was Chiayi Park, where the ruins of the historic Chiayi Shinto Shrine are located. In its heyday, the shrine was regarded as one of the most important in Taiwan, and even though only bits and pieces of it remain, what you can still see there today is arguably more complete then the vast majority of other shrine ruins that you’ll encounter in your travels across Taiwan today.

Sadly, like most of the other Japanese-era sites that I write about, there isn’t much information available in the English language about the shrine that offers visitors much of an idea about its history, or what they’re seeing when they visit. So, as usual, I’m going to be providing readers with an in-depth introduction to the history of the shrine, a timeline of events, and an explanation of each of the pieces that remain on site today.

While I was visiting primarily to check out the ruins of the shrine, for the average visitor, the park where it’s located, shouldn’t be missed as it is not only home to the shrine ruins, but also the popular Sun-Shooting Tower (射日塔), the Chiayi Confucius Temple (嘉義孔廟), the Chiayi Botanical Garden (林業試驗所嘉義樹木園), Kano Baseball Memorial Park (嘉農園區), and is a short walk from other attractions such as the historic Chiayi Prison (嘉義舊監獄), Hinoki Village (檜意森活村), Beimen Station (北門車站) and the Alishan Forest Railway Garage Park (阿里山森林鐵路車庫園區), among a number of other destinations.

There’s a lot to see and do when you’re in Chiayi, and that’s not even including all the amazing restaurants and coffeeshops that you’ll be able to visit when you’re taking a break from sightseeing.

Now that I’ve been reacquainted with the city, I’ll definitely be back soon. I had a lot of fun, and before I knew it, it was time to hop back on a train to head back home. I think if you visit, you’re likely to feel the same. Chiayi’s one of those places in Taiwan that everyone should be making an effort to visit.

Now, let’s talk about the shrine.

Kagi Shrine (嘉義神社 / かぎじんじゃ)

Group photo in front of the First Generation Kagi Shrine

Similar to Tainan to the south, Chiayi is a city that has had a long and storied history. Originally inhabited by the Hoanya (洪雅族) Indigenous People, the arrival of Han Chinese immigrants in southwestern Taiwan in the 16th and 17th centuries was when things in the area really started to change. A port was constructed in (modern-day) Beigang (北港), and even though living conditions in Taiwan at the time would have been tremendously difficult, boats from Fujian frequently made their way over to drop off newcomers, who would help cultivate the untamed land.

Shortly thereafter, the arrival of Dutch traders created another major change for the area, as the the Dutch doing what they were quite well-known for at the time, quickly sought to colonize Taiwan. Trading posts were set up in various settlements around that island, offering them an opportunity to interact with the indigenous people as well as both the Qing and the Japanese at the same time. Dutch control of Taiwan didn’t last very long, but with their capital in Tainan, it marked the first time in Taiwan’s history when the island was governed from the south.

The First Generation Kagi Shrine shortly after it was completed.

Dutch rule may have been short in terms of Taiwan’s overall history, but the legacy they left behind is something that continues to be felt today. I could spend time talking the ports they set up, the international trade that they started, the success of their missionaries in converting Indigenous Taiwanese, but as this article is about Chiayi, one of the most important things the Dutch did was introduce the domestic turkey to Taiwan. If it weren’t for the Dutch, we wouldn’t be able to enjoy Chiayi’s delicious Turkey Rice (嘉義火雞肉飯)!

Expelled by Koxinga (鄭成功) and his pirate army who then set up their own Kingdom of Tungning (東寧王國) in Tainan, the area would yet again undergo yet another new form of foreign governance, but once again, it wouldn’t last very long as the Qing sailed over with their navy and brought the Kingdom of Tungning to its knees after only a few decades. Qing rule over the island began in 1683, and Chiayi, which was known as “Tsulosan” (諸羅山) at the time was one of the few settlements where the Chinese authorities were able to maintain their loose control over the island.

One of Kagi Shrine's original shrine gates.

That being said, between 1683 and 1895, the Qing were relatively uninterested in governing or developing Taiwan, they sought to prohibit immigration, and a number of rebellions against their rule wore down what little interest they already had. History has shown that for the majority of time that the Qing controlled Taiwan they were mostly uninterested in the island referring to it as a "ball of mud beyond the sea" adding "nothing to the breadth of China" (海外泥丸,不足為中國加廣), and were ultimately unable to expand their land control any further than a few western coastal areas.

When not denigrating Taiwan as a place unfit for human civilization, the Qing had an idiom to describe their rule over Taiwan that went like this: “Every three years an uprising, every five years a rebellion” (三年一反、五年一亂).

Link: Taiwan under Qing rule (Wiki)

Japanese-era postcard of the First Generation Kagi Shrine.

The reason I mention this is that in the aftermath of one of the largest uprisings against Qing rule, the Lin Shuangwen Rebellion (林爽文事件), the inhabitants of Tsulosan fought brilliantly, and were successful in preventing Lin’s rebel militia from taking the town. As a reward for their bravery, the Qianlong Emperor (乾隆帝) bestowed the name “Kagi” (嘉義) upon the town, which is loosely translated as “Excellent Righteousness,” and is a name that has stuck since 1788.

Note: Kagi is the Hokkien Taiwanese pronunciation of the Mandarin “Chiayi,” which is more commonly used today.

Nevertheless, Qing rule remained more or less the same for the next century or so, but control of Taiwan was ceded to the Japanese Empire in 1895, after the Chinese were easily defeated in the First Sino-Japanese War (甲午戰爭). When Japanese forces arrived in Taiwan that same year, they sought to take control over the entire island, and planned a three-phase assault, starting in the north taking Keelung, Taipei and Tamsui. In the second phase they took Hsinchu, Miaoli and Changhua, and then moved toward the south capturing Chiayi, Tainan and Kaohsiung. Taking complete control of Taiwan proved to be an incredibly dangerous undertaking for the Japanese, who not only had to deal with armed resistance, but cholera and malaria as well.

It would end up taking several years for the Japanese to take complete control of Taiwan, and their losses were numerous, however, it was the people of Taiwan who suffered the most, especially with the heavy-handed tactics that the Japanese took to suppress dissent to their rule. That being said, when the dust of war settled, and the island started to develop, living standards on the island in turn started to improve, and the frequency of rebellions decreased.

One of the shrine's administration offices.

In 1906, the Meishan Earthquake (梅山地震), the third deadliest earthquake in Taiwan’s recorded history reduced Chiayi to rubble, and in response, the Japanese government mobilized military and medical personnel to the area to assist in recovery efforts. The earthquake may have devastated the city, but despite all the suffering and destruction it caused, it also created opportunity as the Japanese were able to craft the city into their own, and “Kagi” (嘉義 / かぎ), the Japanese pronunciation of the city, developed at such a high pace that it started to flourish as it never had before. Becoming a major economic center for agriculture, timber and sugar, and Taiwan’s fourth-most populated city, the colonial government placed a considerable amount of attention on the urban development of the city.

With the construction of the Alishan Railway (阿里山林鐵) connecting to the main branch line, Kagi City had become equipped with beautiful civic structures, parks, modern roads, and public works. Living and economic conditions in the city had improved at such a fast rate that the city’s growth became a model of how Japanese rule was considered to be of benefit to the people of Taiwan, and the city became attractive to both Formosans, but also Japanese immigrants as well, who were apprehensive at first to come to Taiwan.

The Main Hall and the Worship Hall of the First Generation Kagi Shrine.

With an influx of Japanese immigration, conducted first by private companies, and then later publicly, the necessity for infrastructure to cater to their needs became more important. Certainly, one of the most important areas in this regard was with the construction of Shinto Shrines, which were important not only for the daily lives of the immigrants who came to Taiwan, but also to assist in the colonial regime’s push to fully assimilate the Formosan people into Japanese society.

Discussions regarding the construction of a Shinto Shrine in Kagi started around 1911 (明治44年), when the first organized meeting of the Kagi Shrine Committee (嘉義神社興建評鑑委員會) was held by influential members of society. Planning for the shrine, however, was expedited with the passing of Emperor Meiji (明治天皇) the next year as commemorations for his death, and the inauguration of a new era were held across Taiwan.

Shortly after, an official application was sent to the Governor General of Taiwan, Sakuma Samata (佐久間左馬太 / さくま さまた) for the establishment of a shrine, which was quickly approved. Thanks to the economic development of the city, and the completion of the Alishan Railway, everything that was required for the construction of a shrine was readily available. Thus, in 1915, famed craftsman Mitsuru Ito (伊藤滿), who had just completed construction on the First Generation Taichung Shrine (第一代臺中神社) was contracted to come to Kagi to construct the shrine. With a budget of 36,000 Yen (an equivalent of about $360,000 USD in modern currency), the shrine was constructed entirely of cypress from Alishan, and its official inauguration ceremony was held on October 28th, 1915 (大正4年).

The Visiting Path of the First Generation Kagi Shrine with stone lanterns and shrine gate.

Just two years after its inauguration, the shrine received an ‘upgrade’ in its official status as a County-Level Shrine (縣社 / けんしゃ) in the pre-war shrine ranking system, and while it would have been considered an honor at the time, it was something that would also change relatively quickly.

Note: The organizational structure of Shinto Shrines prior to the war were based on the ‘State Shinto’ system. In this system there were major Imperial-level shrines (官幣社 / かんぺいしゃ), and National-level shrines (国幣社 / こくへいしゃ), but the vast majority of shrines in both Japan and Taiwan ranked lower on the hierarchy, such as the metropolitan and prefectural shrines, like this one.

County-level shrines, known as ‘ken-sha’ (縣社 / けんしゃ), weren’t very high in the hierarchy, but having that upgrade in status ensured that it received a certain amount of funding from the government.

Link: Modern system of ranked Shinto shrines | 近代社格制度 (Wiki)

Administration Hall of the Kagi Shrine

That being said, as I just mentioned, the shrine’s official status would change within a few short years. In 1920 (大正9年), the Governor General’s Office instituted the ‘Doka Policy’ (同化 / どうか), which would become one of the Japanese-era’s most important administrative restructuring initiatives. This new system, meant to standardize the administrative divisions in Taiwan with those in Japan, was part of a wave of major investment in the governance of Taiwan, where the government in Japan considered Taiwan to be ‘separate’ but ‘equal’ at the same time. Of the original twenty administrative districts in Taiwan, the 1920 policy reduced the number to eight prefectures (州廳), and it was during this period that Chiayi was upgraded into Kagi City (嘉義市 / かぎし), with much of the farmland and coastal area that surrounded the city becoming part of Kagi County (嘉義郡 / かぎぐん), a sub-division of the much larger Tainan Prefecture (臺南州 / たいなんしゅう). As there were only two ‘cities’ within Tainan Prefecture, Kagi City became a lot more important, resulting in a number of major major construction projects in the city, something that was taking place across the island, resulting in some of the largest and most iconic Japanese-era buildings that you’ll see in Taiwan today.

Link: Political divisions of Taiwan (1895–1945)

A wedding held at the Kagi Shrine

With the rapid development of the city and the flourishing economy, the population of Kagi grew exponentially, both with local Taiwanese and Japanese immigrants as well. However, due to the growth of the city, the shrine had become far too small to cater to the needs of its citizens, and by the 1930s, the Japanese had learned the hard way that when it comes to the construction of wooden buildings in Taiwan, termites are your worst enemy. The shrine, beautiful as it was, offered a veritable feast for Taiwan’s infamous white termites, and the damage eventually became irreparable.

In 1937, the Governor of Tainan Prefecture created the ‘Kagi Shrine Fundraising Committee’ (嘉義神社奉贊會), and over the next two years a massive 200,000 Yen (an equivalent of about 2 million USD today) was raised for both the reconstruction and expansion of the shrine. With the purchase of an additional plot of land, construction of the Second Generation Kagi Shrine got underway in 1940, and the project took until 1943 to complete. Constructed in two phases, the original shrine was preserved, but the layout of the completely changed from its original east-west direction to a north-south direction, which provided more space, as well as allowing for an entrance that was more convenient for visitors.

The first phase of the construction project was the upper part of the shrine, and was completed in 1942, with a ceremony held for the relocation of the kami from the original shrine to their new home. The second phase was the lower section of the shrine, which included the beautiful Shrine Office and the Priest’s Hall, both of which remain standing today.

The Visiting Path of the First Generation Kagi Shrine

Shortly after the Second Generation Shrine opened, it’s status was once again upgraded, but this time, instead of being classified as a minor shrine, it become one of only three shrines in Taiwan to receive the Minor National Level Shrine (國幣小社 / こくへいしょうしゃ) rank, which goes to show just how important both the shrine and the city had become.

Nevertheless, with the shrine completed in 1943, its time as a Shinto Shrine was short, given that the Second World War came to an end in 1945. The Japanese were forced to surrender control of Taiwan under the terms of their surrender and with the Republic of China taking control of Taiwan, the shrine, like many of Taiwan’s other major Shinto Shrines was converted into a war memorial, known locally as a ‘Martyrs Shrine’ (忠烈祠). Similarly, Kagi Park was renamed Zhongshan Park (中山公園) in honor of the founding father of the ROC, Sun Yat Sen (孫中山).

The Shrine Office and the Priests Hall were later converted into a Military Hospital, and a Confucius Temple (嘉義孔廟) was also constructed nearby. The layout of the shrine, however, more or less remained the same until fire sadly burnt down the Main Hall and the Worship Hall in 1995.

The Sun-Shooting Tower at the end of the Visiting Path where the shrine once stood.

In the aftermath of the fire, the Chiayi City Government constructed a large tower for tourists, and a new Martyrs Shrine was constructed in its basement. The remaining sections of the original Shinto Shrine were later recognized as Chiayi City Municipal Monuments (嘉義市市定古蹟), and were preserved as part of a heritage park that would celebrate the history of the shrine, and the city.

Today, Chiayi Park is a great place to visit as it not only celebrates the history of its former Shinto Shrine, but a visit also provides tourists with the opportunity to enjoy a number of different experiences, making it an important stop if you’re in town.

Below, I’ll introduce the differences between the first and second generation shrines, and then I’ll move onto a detailed timeline to help readers better understand what was once part of the shrine:

First Generation Kagi Shrine (第一代の嘉義神社) 1915-1940

The First Generation Shrine. If you look closely you can see the stone guardians on either side of the shrine gates.

The First Generation Shrine, completed in 1915, with cypress brought directly from Alishan (阿里山) for its construction. While a lot more modest than the Second Generation Shrine, from the historic photos I’m sharing here today, it’s easy to see that it was absolutely beautiful.

The First Generation Shrine consisted of the following sections:

  1. Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう) - including a stone pathway, an information board (揭示場), shrine gates (鳥居 / とりい), stone lanterns (燈籠 / とうろう) lining both sides of the path, and komainu (狛犬 / こまいぬ) lion-dogs next to the entrance to the shrine.

  2. Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずしゃ) - Likely located just outside of the sacred section of the shrine.

  3. Administration Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ) - Likely located along the Visiting Path, opposite the Purification Fountain.

  4. Offertory Hall (幣殿 / へいでん) - the space where worshipers could approach the shrine to pray or make offerings.

  5. Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん) - the worship space where ceremonies were held.

  6. Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん) - the home of the shrine’s kami.

  7. Shrine Fence (玉垣 / たまがき) - a tall wooden fence that surrounds the sacred area of the shrine, preventing people from wandering into a space where they shouldn’t be.

Second Generation Kagi Shrine (第二代の嘉義神社) 1942-1995

The far more expansive Second Generation Kagi Shrine.

The Second Generation Kagi Shrine, completed between 1940-1943 was a major upgrade, and completely changed the layout of the shrine space. With the purchase of additional land, the First Generation Shrine, which was measured at 28,460㎡ (8609坪) expanded to 33306㎡ (10,075坪), which allowed for not only a change in layout, but also included a number of additional buildings, and a much larger shrine than the original.

The Second Generation Shrine consisted of the following sections:

  1. Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう) - Including a stone pathway, a stone ‘shimebashira’ (標柱 / しめばしら) pillar at the entrance that indicated the name of the shrine, three shrine gates (鳥居 / とりい), several sets of large stone lanterns (大燈籠) and several sets medium sized lanterns (中燈籠) lining both sides of the path, and komainu (狛犬 / こまいぬ) lion-dogs.

  2. Administration Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ) - located along the right side of the Visiting Path prior to passing through the second shrine gate.

  3. Priest’s Hall (齋館 / さいかん) - located directly next door to the Administration Office.

  4. Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずしゃ) - located on the opposing side of the Visiting Path from the Administration Office and Priest’s Hall.

  5. Resting Pavilion (參集所) - located next to the Purification Fountain, it was a space for people to relax and get some shade from the sun.

  6. Ritual Storage Building (祭器庫 / さいきくら) - just beyond the second shrine gate on the right of the Visiting Path, a building used to store equipment used for special occasions.

  7. Offertory Hall (幣殿 / へいでん) - the space where worshipers could approach the shrine to pray or make offerings.

  8. Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん) - the worship space where ceremonies were held.

  9. Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん) - the home of the shrine’s kami.

  10. Shrine Fence (玉垣 / たまがき) - a tall wooden fence that surrounded the sacred area of the shrine, preventing people from wandering into a space where they shouldn’t be.

  11. Priests Residences (神職宿舍) - Residences constructed especially for the shrine staff who lived on-site.

Kami Enshrined at the Kagi Shrine

As mentioned earlier, Kagi City at the time was a bustling economic port for both the sugar and timber industries, so the city developed quite quickly compared to many other areas in central-southern Taiwan. The kami who were chosen to take up residence within the shrine were a reflection of the importance of the city’s industrial output, but also included someone who became regarded as a ‘patron-saint’ in Taiwan, and of course, one of Shintoism’s most important figures, the goddess of the sun, the queen of heaven and creation.

Prince Kitashirakawa Yoshihisa (北白川宮能久親王)

Prince Kitashirakawa Yoshihisa, a western-educated Major-General in the Japanese imperial army was commissioned to participate in the invasion of Taiwan after the island was ceded to the empire. Unfortunately for the Prince, he contracted malaria and died in (either) modern day Hsinchu or Tainan (where he died is disputed). This made him the first member of the Japanese royal family to pass away outside of Japan in more than nine hundred years.

Shortly after his death, he was elevated to the status of a ‘kami’ under State Shinto with the official name “Kitashirakawa no Miya Yoshihisa-shinno no Mikoto.“ Enshrined at the Yasukuni Shrine (靖國神社) in Tokyo, he subsequently became one of the most important patron deities here in Taiwan with his worship somewhat unique to the island. The Prince was enshrined at the Taiwan Grand Shrine (臺灣神社) in Taipei, and almost every other major shrine on the island.

The Three Deities of Cultivation (かいたくさんじん / 開拓三神)

The Three Deities of Cultivation, consist of three figures known for their skills with regard to nation-building, agriculture, business, medicine and weather. Commonly appearing as tutelar deities in many of Japan’s Shinto Shrines, they were especially important here in Taiwan due to what they represented, which included aspects of nation-building, agriculture, medicine and the weather. Sharing characteristics with one of Taiwan’s most important deities, the ‘Earth God’ (福德正神 / 土地公), their worship would have been considered somewhat of a simple introduction to the new state religion, but given Taiwan’s position as a new addition to the Japanese empire, ‘nation-building’ and the association of a Japanese-style way of life was something that was (forcibly) pushed on the local people in more ways than one.

The Three Deities of Cultivation are as follows:

  1. Okunitama no Mikoto (大國魂大神 / おおくにたまのかみ) - the kami of the nation-state and the ‘spirit of the country’

  2. Onamuchi no Mikoto (大名牟遲大神 / おおなむちのかみ) - kami of nation-building, agriculture, medicine, and protective magic

  3. Sukunabikona no Mikoto (少彥名大神 / すくなひこなのかみ) - the kami hot springs, agriculture, healing, magic, brewing sake and knowledge

Amaterasu (天照大神)

One of the children of the god and goddess of creation, Izanami (伊邪那美命) and Izanagi (伊邪那岐神), Amaterasu is one Shintoism’s most important deities. Known formally as Amaterasu-Ōmikami (天照大御神 / あまてらすおおみかみ), she is regarded as the goddess of the sun and the universe, and is considered to be the mythical ancestor of the Imperial House of Japan. Enshrined at the Ise Grand Shrine (伊勢神宮) in Mie Prefecture (三重縣), worship of the goddess is often directly linked to worship of “Japan” itself, known as “Japanese Spirit”, or Yamato-damashii (大和魂).

This is something that became problematic during the period when State Shintoism was one of the tools used to fuel the militarism. Even though worship of Amaterasu far predates the insanity that led Japan on military adventures throughout Asia in the 19th and 20th Centuries, her perceived relationship with Japan’s militarism is just one of the reasons why the Chinese Nationalists were so keen on destroying Taiwan’s shrines when they took control of Taiwan after the Second World War.

Note: When the Second Generation Kagi Shrine was completed, the original space that was used for the Main Hall was converted into an Auxiliary Shrine, known in Japan as a ‘setsumatsusha’ (攝末社 / せつまつしゃ), a conjunction of ‘sessha’ (攝社 / せっしゃ) and ‘massha’ (末社 / まっしゃ), referring to the ‘mini’ shrines you’ll often find within a larger shrine. The addition of an Auxiliary Shrine made space for the worship of some other important deities who took up residence in the building after the kami mentioned above were relocated to their new home in the newly constructed Main Hall.

  • Ukanomitama-no-Kami (倉稻魂命 / うかのみたまのかみ), more commonly known as “Inari” (稲荷大神), one of modern day Japan’s most popular deities. Inari is responsible for performing a number of roles, but is most commonly known as the guardian of foxes, and the kami of fertility, rice, tea, agriculture, industry, and prosperity. Playing a similar role to the Chinese God of Wealth (財神), people most often visit Inari Shrines to pray for success in business

  • Oomiyanome-no-Kami (大宮賣神 / おおみやのめのかみ) - the kami of business prosperity, a female deity that often appears alongside Inari. While known for abilities similar to those of Inari, Oomiyanome is also known for her skills with regard to the protection of shrines, so she is often an important addition to a shrine in the same way that dragons adorn the roofs of temples here in Taiwan.

  • Sarutahiko Okami (猿田彦大神 / さる-たひこ) - regarded as one of the ‘Great Deities’ (大神) of Shintoism, ‘Sarutahiko Okami’, is the leader of the kunitsukami (国つ神), or the ‘gods of the earth’.

Kagi Shrine Timeline

While I’ve covered quite a few of the events that led up to the construction of the original shrine, the second generation shrine, and what happened after the Japanese-era, there are a number of other important events that weren’t mentioned, so I’ve put together a timeline of events below for anyone interested in a more in-depth look at the shrine’s history, click the drop-down box below.

    • (明治28年) - The Japanese take control of Taiwan.

    • 1906 (明治39年) - On March 17th, the Great Kagi Earthquake (嘉義大地震), with an epicenter in Meishan (梅山) leveled much of what had been constructed in the area.

    • 1907 (明治40年) - Construction of the Alishan Railway (阿里山林鐵) commences.

    • 1910 (明治43年) - Kagi Park (嘉義公園 / かぎこうえん) is officially established.

    • 1911 (明治44年) - The first session of the Kagi Shrine Committee (嘉義神社興建評鑑委員會) was held at the Kagi Club (嘉義俱樂部) in order to start planning for the construction of a shrine in the town.

    • 1912 (大正1年) - Emperor Meiji passes away on July 30th, and events are held in Kagi (and across Taiwan) to commemorate his passing. Shortly after in November, an official application is sent to Governor General of Taiwan, Sakuma Samata (佐久間左馬太 / さくま さまた) for the establishment of a shrine, which was quickly approved.

    • 1913 (大正2年) - Fundraising events for the construction of the shrine officially get underway. The completion of the Alishan Railway assisted with both fundraising, and the future construction of the shrine with raw materials from the mountain.

    • 1915 (大正4年) - Construction on the shrine starts on May 1st with the project overseen by famed Nagoya craftsman, Mitsuru Ito (伊藤滿), who had also helped design and construct some of Taiwan’s other major shrines. The shrine was completed on October 20th, and the official opening ceremony was held a week later. In total, 36,000 Yen were spent on its construction, an equivalent of about 54 million yen ($360,000 USD) in modern day currency.

    • 1917 (大正6年) - The Kagi Shrine is officially recognized as a County-Level Shrine (縣社), an upgrade in its status.

    • 1920 (大正9年) - The Japanese government institutes the ‘Doka policy’ (同化 / どーか), which standardizes Taiwan’s political divisions with the system used in the rest of the country. From then on, Kagi City (嘉義街 /かぎかい) is put under the administrative authority of Tainan Prefecture’s (臺南州 /たいなんしゅう) Kagi County (嘉義郡/かぎぐん).

    • 1936 (昭和11年) - The Colonial Government’s “Japanization” or ‘forced assimilation’ Kominka (皇民化運動) policy comes into effect in Taiwan.

    • 1937 (昭和12年) - Due to the growth of Kagi and the increase in the number of visitors to the shrine, as well as the problem of termite infestations wreaking havoc on the shrine, the Governor of Tainan Prefecture creates the ‘Kagi Shrine Fund Raising Committee’ (嘉義神社奉贊會) in order to reconstruct and expand the shrine.

    • 1940 (昭和15年) - Over 200,000 Yen (20萬圓) is raised for the reconstruction of the shrine, and plans are officially approved by the Tainan Prefectural Government with construction immediately started.

    • 1942 (昭和17年) - Construction of the Second Generation Kagi Shrine is undertaken in two phases with the construction of the upper shrine completed first. The inauguration of the shrine was held shortly after on June 13th.

    • 1943 (昭和18年) - In the second stage of construction, the lower section of the shrine, which included the Shrine Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ) and Priest’s Hall (齋館 / さいかん), was completed on August 9th.

    • 1944 (昭和19年) - Kagi Shrine is upgraded into a Minor National Level Shrine (國幣小社 / こくへいしょうしゃ), one of only three shrines in Taiwan to achieve such a rank in the pre-war shrine ranking hierarchy.

    • 1945 (昭和20年) - The Second World War comes to a conclusion and Japan is forced to surrender control of Taiwan. Shortly thereafter, Chiayi Park is renamed “Zhongshan Park” (中山公園).

    • 1949 (民國38年) - Chiang Kai-Shek (蔣介石) and the Republic of China government retreat to Taiwan, bringing with them several million refugees displaced by the Chinese Civil War. Kagi Shrine is converted in the Chiayi Martyrs Shrine (嘉義忠烈祠), and the lower offices are converted into a Military Hospital (八二八醫院).

    • 1987 (民國76年) - The Military Hospital hands over ownership of the Shrine Office and Priest’s Hall Buildings to the Chiayi City Government. However, due to wear and tear, the buildings are in desperate need of restoration. The Department of Architectural Design of the National Cheng-Kung University (成功大學) in Tainan is contracted to come up with plans for the faithful restoration of the buildings.

    • 1992 (民國81年) - The charitable division of the Cathay Life Insurance Company donates NT$5 million for the restoration of the buildings.

    • 1993 (民國82年) - The Chiayi City Historical Relics Museum (嘉義市史蹟資料館) is officially established.

    • 1995 (民國84年) - Fire destroys the Main Hall of the shrine, which had been converted into the Chiayi Martyrs Shrine (嘉義忠烈祠). Later that year, plans are made to construct a tower on the site of the original shrine to help attract tourists to the city.

    • 1996 (民國85年) - With funds contributed from private enterprises, government subsidies and from the Chiayi City Government, restoration of the remnants of Kagi Shrine officially start. Later that year, Zhongshan Park is officially renamed Chiayi Park (嘉義公園), reflecting its history.

    • 1997 (民國87年) - While the tower was still undergoing construction, the Second Generation Chiayi Martyrs Shrine was officially opened in the basement of the tower.

    • 1998 (民國88年) - The Chiayi Tower, otherwise known as the “Sun-Shooting Tower” (射日塔) on the grounds of where the Main Hall of the shrine once stood is completed and opened to the public. The remnants of Kagi Shrine are officially listed as Chiayi City Municipal Monuments (嘉義市市定古蹟) in order to ensure that funding is available for their upkeep and protection.

    • 2001 (民國91年) - Restoration on the Shrine’s Main Office and the Purification Hall is completed and are opened to the public as the Chiayi City Historical Relics Museum (嘉義市史蹟資料館) takes up residence within the two buildings.

Remaining Sections of the Shrine

What remains of the First Generation Shrine's Hall of Worship.

In this section, I’m going to take some time to introduce the sections of the shrine that remain today, and as usual, aspects of their architectural design. Certainly, while what’ll you encounter in Chiayi Park today is not nearly as complete as the Taoyuan Shrine (桃園神社), but the elements that do remain are quite well-preserved, and even though much has changed, the layout of the shrine has essentially remained the same for the past eight decades.

Not every aspect of the shrine requires an in-depth introduction, so I’ll probably spend the most time on the two largest buildings that remain on-site as they’ve been expertly restored, and if you’re in the area, you should definitely take some time to visit. When it comes to the restoration of the shrine, most of the attention has been given to the administrative buildings that were part of the shrine, which today make up the Showa 18 Relic Museum (嘉義市史蹟資料館), which I’ll also introduce below.

If you visit today, you’ll find several smaller aspects of the shrine that have been preserved and are put on display in addition to offering some pretty interesting information about the history of Chiayi.

Visiting Path (參道 / さんどう)

One of the most complete remnants of the historic shrine is its ‘Visiting Path’, which may not seem like a lot, given that most would just consider it a pathway from the entrance that led to where the shrine once stood, but the fact that it hasn’t been altered over the years is relatively amazing.

At a Shinto Shrine, a 'Visiting Path,’ known in Japanese as the “sando” (參道 / さんどう) is an integral part of the layout of any shrine, and, well yeah, is essentially just a pathway that leads visitors to the shrine. While these paths serve a functional purpose, they are also quite symbolic in that the ‘path’ is also the route you take on the road to spiritual purification. If you weren’t already aware, ’Shinto’ is literally translated as the “Pathway to the Gods” (神道), so having a physical pathway leading the worshiper from the realm of the profane to that of the sacred is quite important. 

The average length of a shrine’s Visiting Path’s tends to vary based on the size of the shrine, but what always remains true is that you’ll find stone lanterns (石燈籠 / しゃむしょ), shrine gates (鳥居 / とりい) and stone guardians (狛犬 / こまいぬ) along the path.

As mentioned above, the shrine was originally home to three shrine gates, one cement, and two constructed of wood, each of which constructed in the Myojin-style (明神鳥居), one of the most common styles of shrine gate currently used in Japan today. In this particular style of design, there are double lintels with the top curving upwards. Between each, it’s likely that there would have been a plaque that had the name of the shrine inscribed horizontally. Today, none of the original shrine gates are left standing along the Visiting Path, but a Chinese-style cement ‘Pailou Gate’ (牌樓) has been constructed for the Martyrs Shrine, and even though its completely different, its still quite nice.

The next common feature of a Visiting Path are the stone lanterns that are lined symmetrically along both sides. One again, its quite amazing that there are so many of the original lanterns remain standing in their original location, and what’s even more amazing is that the date of their donation, which is always inscribed horizontally along the base, remains clear.

The reason I find this amazing is that in most cases, the stone lanterns that remain from Taiwan’s Shinto Shrines have all had their dates scratched out or vandalized. In this case, however, it looks like they were never touched, and not only do they feature the dates, but also the individuals or the organizations who originally donated them. One of the interesting things about the lanterns in this case is that most of them date back to the Taisho Era (大正), which means that they were part of the First Generation Shrine.

Finally, one of the other more notable aspects of a Visiting Path are the stone guardians that are placed along the path to symbolically guard the shrine. Known in Japan as ‘komainu’ (狛犬/こまいぬ), these stone guardians are part of a tradition thought to have been passed on to Japan from Korea, which is why they’re also often referred to as “Korean Dogs” (高麗犬), referring to the ancient Korean Kingdom of “Koguryo” (高麗國).

Although there can be exceptions to the rule, the lion-dogs generally appear as a pair and are placed on either side of a Visiting Path or at the entrance to a shrine. Often appearing as a male and female, they are only distinguishable only by their facial expressions, with the male “a-gyo” (阿型) having an open mouth and the female “un-gyo” (吽形) having a closed mouth. The male komainu in the traditional set has its mouth open with a stone ball between its teeth while the other set looks as if he’s smiling awkwardly with its mouth open.

Link: Komainu Lion Dogs (Japan Visitor)

In this case, there are only two remaining of the original three sets of stone guardians at the shrine, one at the entrance, and one at the mid-section of the Visiting Path. The set that disappeared would have been placed at the entrance to the Main Hall, which burnt down several decades ago. The two remaining sets are known simply as the ‘large guardians’ (大狛犬) and the ‘small guardians’ (小狛犬), but what that doesn’t tell you however is that they were designed in completely different styles, and were dedicated at different times. Records indicate that the remaining pairs or guardians date back to the First Generation Shrine, but since the dates have been vandalized. So, based on their size and the information we have about them, its safe to say that the large set at the entrance to the park were donated in 1928 (昭和3年), while the smaller pair were donated in 1922 (大正11年).

The interesting thing is that the smaller set were crafted in the exact same style as the remaining pair of guardians at the ruins of the Keelung Shinto Shrine. The larger pair on the other hand were crafted to look similar to the guardians from the Taiwan Grand Shrine (臺灣神宮) in Taipei.

Another notable fact about the smaller set is that they were crafted in such a manner that they appear similar to the design of Taiwanese-style guardians that you’ll find at temples across the country, which (its assumed) is part of the reason why they have remained so safe from vandalism.

Link: 狛犬――連結臺灣與日本,日常生活裡的藝術雕塑 (Nippon)

Note: Interestingly, during my research about the Kagi Shrine and its komainu, I came across some interesting resources that introduced a theory about the history of the construction of stone-guardians, like these, in Taiwan. The article, linked above, explains that from the Qing Dynasty, blacksmiths were banned in Taiwan due to the amount of rebellions and uprisings that took place. When the Japanese arrived, there weren’t any resources available that could aid in the construction of the ‘guardians' for all the shrines that were being constructed around the island. Thus, it’s theorized that the reason why so many of the older guardians look so similar is due to the fact that they were all imported directly from Yamaguchi Prefecture (山口縣), west of Tokyo, or were sculpted by craftsmen from the area.

The theory is given more credence by the fact that several of Taiwan’s Governor Generals originally hailed from Yamaguchi, as were most of the craftsmen who came to Taiwan to assist in the construction of bridges, such as the famed Meiji Bridge (明治橋) in Taipei, which was constructed with stone imported directly from Yamaguchi.

Purification Fountain (手水舍 / ちょうずしゃ)

Located on the left side of the Visiting Path opposite the Administration Office, you’ll find what is known as the Purification Fountain, an essential addition to any Shinto Shrine. Like the Visiting Path, the fountain is sure to appear at any shrine you visit as it marks another important philosophical aspect to Shintoism, which is referred to as “hare and ke” (ハレとケ), or the "sacred-profane dichotomy."

One of the main methods of marking the visitor’s journey from the sacred to the profane, is that for anyone crossing the barrier into the ‘sacred realm,’ they should do so in the cleanliest possible manner. This is achieved by symbolically performing a purification ritual at the chozuya (ちょうずしゃ) or temizuya (てみずしゃ) provided. The shrine was originally set up in the ‘upper’ and ‘lower’ layer, and you’ll notice that as the Visiting Path continues past the Purification Fountain, there is a set of stairs that that you walk up to reach the ‘upper’ section. The second shrine gate was originally located at the top of the stairs, and would have marked the entrance into the sacred part of the shrine.

The Purification Fountain that remains on-site today is the original, and was completed in 1945 (昭和20年). The fountain itself is a simple octagonal-shaped stone fountain inscribed with the words “Donated by members of the Chiayi Civil Engineering Group in October of 1942” (奉獻 昭和十七年十月 嘉義土木建築請員業組合員一同). The top of the fountain has a stone plate where a long wooden ladle, known as a ‘hishaku’ (柄杓 / ひしゃく) was placed for worshippers to take part in the purification ritual mentioned above. Hanging from the roof above the fountain, you’ll find an instruction board where the purification process is detailed.

In order to protect the sacred water in the fountain, a pavilion was constructed to cover it, and as is the case at most shrines of this size, extra care was taken to construct a beautiful space. The fountain was constructed on a cement base and the four pillars that prop up the massive roof of the pavilion are also cemented into the base to ensure the stabilization of the roof. Both the pillars and the roof were constructed entirely of cypress from nearby Alishan. The roof was constructed with the flowing two-sided symmetrical kirizuma-zukuri-style (切妻造 / きりづまづくり), the weight of which is propped up by both the four pillars and a network of trusses that connect to the pillars.

The roof itself is quite decorative in that both of the gable ends feature what is known as ‘Gegyo' (懸魚 / げぎょ), which are decorative wooden boards shaped to look like a hanging fish, and are used as a charm against fire, similar to porcelain dragons on Taiwanese temples. The top of the roof is covered in a variety of black roof tiles, most of which I’ll explain below, but the mixture of flat tiles, cylindrical tiles and end tiles used to keep everything in place. It’s an extremely complex mixture that will kind of blow your mind if you take some time to look closely and appreciate that there are likely a thousand or more individual pieces locked in together.

Resting Pavilion (參集所)

While visiting the park, I had assumed that this ‘Resting Pavilion’ was something that was constructed well after the Japanese-era had ended, but it was in fact an original part of the shrine that has been changed a few times in the years since. The interesting thing about this so-called ‘Resting Pavilion’ is that it isn’t something common at shrines in Japan, but was likely something that was added due to the tropical climate in Chiayi.

Located on the same side as the Purification Fountain, across from the Administration Office, the pavilion was a space where people could get some shade from the afternoon sun instead of waiting for family and friends in spaces where they’d exposed to the heat.

All that remains of the original pavilion is the cement base and the cement pillars that helped to prop up the original roof. The current roof is something that has been renovated at some point and features steel beams and trusses that help to support a two-sided kirizuma-like roof. It’s safe to assume that the original roof of the building would have appeared similar in its decorative elements to that of the Purification Fountain, but it’s currently covered by iron sheets and on the ends, you’ll find some iconography akin to the decorative elements you’d find at a post-war military village, meant to signify the Republic of China, or its military.

Administration Office (社務所 / しゃむしょ)

The two buildings that have come to personify what remains of Kagi Shrine are the beautiful Administration Office and the Priests Hall, two large, and very traditionally constructed spaces that are directly connected with each other. The buildings have been beautifully restored, and both the exterior and the interior are well-maintained, and are well worth the modest entrance fee for a visit.

Working together in unison, the buildings were originally used for a number of purposes. First and foremost, it was a space where the shrine’s priests, priestesses, and other staff would rest while they weren’t busy performing their duties. They were also a space where the administrative aspects of the shrine were taken care of in addition to offering space where special events or ceremonies could be held. While the interior of the buildings would have been mostly off-limits to the average visitor, they also offered space for people who might have had any special requests for prayers or rites.

In Japan, the ‘Administration Office’ is more commonly known as a ‘shamusho’ (社務所 / しゃむしょ), and are probably best known for featuring what is known as a ‘Public Counter’ (授与所 / じゅよじょ), which is like a gift shop where visitors can ‘receive' (purchase) shrine branded tokens and amulets. However, looking at the floor plan and the design of the buildings, it’s highly unlikely that this was the case at the Kagi Shrine. So, if there were one of these gift shops at the shrine, it would probably have been located in a separate building nearby, or closer to the shrine. Completed in 1943, the buildings were part of the second phase of construction of the Second Generation Shrine, officially opening a year after the rest of the shrine.

Given that the Japanese had learned their lesson with regard to the construction of wooden buildings in Taiwan, both of the buildings were constructed on a cement base with sixty centimeter-long pedestals propping them off of the ground, offering protection from earthquakes as well as all the termites, which happily feasted upon the First Generation Shrine.

This time, in addition to the cement base, both of the buildings were constructed with a mixture of brick and cypress from the nearby mountains, and the walls in the interior feature the genius insulation method of combining bamboo and mud (編竹夾泥牆), something that the Japanese came up with as an answer to Taiwan’s tropical climate.

Officially, the buildings were constructed in the irimoya-zukuri (入母造 / いりもやづくり) style of architectural design, but within that particular style there are several off-shoots, and more specifically, in this case the ‘Shoin-zukuri’ (書院造/しょいんづくり) style of design was used for the layout of the interior of the buildings. Originally a style of design that was used for the construction of mansions, temple halls or the residences for Buddhist priests, the architectural style has become the foundation for the design of most of the traditional residential buildings in Japan today. The term ‘shoin’ (書院), translates literally as a ‘study’ or a place for lectures, and although its origins come from the construction of Buddhist temples, it is essentially a style of building characterized by tatami mats, aisles and sliding doors that open up to partitions.

Given that it’s an off-shoot of the irimoya style, one of the most important things to keep in mind is that the base of the building, known literally as the ‘mother’s house’ (母屋), is considerably smaller than the roof above, which means that the architectural design within the interior of the buildings features a network of pillars and trusses that assist in supporting and stabilizing the weight of the roof, which in both cases is absolutely beautiful.

While not as complex or as intricate in design as the roof of the shrine’s more sacred buildings, the roof that was constructed on both of these buildings was designed in the two-sided kirizuma-zukuri (切妻造 / きりづまづくり) style of design, with beautiful gable-ends, and is covered with black tiles (黑瓦). Adding complexity to the roofs, both buildings feature a ‘covered-front porch’, known in Japan as a ‘karahafu porch’ (唐破風), an addition that draws its inspiration from the architecture of the Tang Dynasty, and is something that remains quite popular in Japan. The ‘'porch’ essentially protrudes from the front of the kirizuma roof, but features a separate four-sided roof of its own, supported by four pillars in front of the main doors, adding a three-dimensional or ‘flowing’ element to the design.

Facing outward from the front of the porch, is a triangular gable known as a chidori-hafu (千鳥破風/ちどりはふ), which has a 'hanging fish’ decoration at the tip, and a decorative onigawara (鬼瓦 / おにがわら) tile at the top. This may not mean very much to the average reader, but it shows that an incredible amount of care, and money, were spent to ensure that these buildings stood out in their decorative design.

Apart from the porch, there are a number of decorative elements on the roof that also play integral functional elements, protecting it from rain, and keeping everything in place. While they are (for the most part) considered common elements found on the roofs of more formal Japanese-style buildings, and would have also been included on the roof of the shrine, these two buildings, the Purification Fountain, as well as the Ritual Storage Building (which I’ll introduce below) are the only sections of the shrine that remain where you’ll find them all in one place.

Those decorative elements are as follows:

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

  • Munagawara (棟瓦 /むながわらあ) - ridge tiles used to cover the apex of the roof.

  • Onigawara (鬼瓦 / おにがわら) - ornamental ridge-end tiles that are used to symbolize protection.

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

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

  • Sodegawara (袖瓦/そでがわら) - cylindrical sleeve tiles

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

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

Although there have been some modern modifications to the buildings after the restoration work was completed, the interior space has been largely left the same. The original tatami mats have been removed, and replaced with hard-wood flooring. Similarly, modern lighting and air conditioning has been added, which is probably something the priests in 1943 would have loved to have access to given the heat of Chiayi’s summer days.

The space today, though, is divided up into exhibitions about the history of the shrine, so its difficult for the average visitor to fully understand the original layout of the building, but the displays offer some very detailed information about the various elements of the design.

That being said, one of the genius aspects of the design of buildings like this, especially since air conditioning hadn’t been invented yet, was that the windows in the building were specifically constructed to open up and allow fresh air into the building. The air circulation system included sliding windows panels at the rear of the building that could be completely opened as well as ventilation within the sliding panels within the interior.

It would have been hot within the buildings, but the design did its best to mitigate the sweltering tropical heat of Chiayi, something which I personally can’t endure for very long before I start to melt.

Ritual Storage Building (祭器庫 / さいきくら)

Even though this is just a simple storage building, it is still one of the highlights of what remains of the former Shinto Shrine. Among the remnants of Taiwan’s Shinto Shrines, you’ll find that this particular type of building is quite rare, and only here at the Chiayi Shrine will you find one in such great shape. While a ‘storage' building might sound rather unimportant, it is actually an integral part of the shrine, as it is a space where some really important objects, that were used for special occasions, were kept.

The most important of these objects would have been the shrine’s ‘mikoshi’ (神輿 / みこし), a specially-branded palanquin constructed especially for the shrine. The mikoshi would have been used to transport one of the kami whenever they came out during the annual ‘matsuri festival’ (祭 / まつり), which was held on October 28th every year in Chiayi.

In order to keep the mikoshi safe, the rectangular building was constructed with reinforced concrete in the traditional irimoya-zukuri (入母造 / いりもやづくり) architectural style mentioned earlier. Given that it was constructed with concrete, the base was easily able to stabilize the weight of the roof above, and also allowed for windows on three sides of the building.

In most cases, irimoya-style buildings make use of intricate hip-and-gable style roofs, but in this case, the roof was constructed with a simple, yet beautifully decorated two-sided kirizuma-zukuri-style (切妻造 / きりづまづくり) with gable-ends on the front and rear of the building.

First Generation Shrine Ruins (第一代嘉義神社殘跡)

Arguably one of the more important of the remaining sections of the shrine are the ruins of the First Generation Shrine, which was later used to house a separate set of kami. That being said, for most visitors, this is likely to simply appear as an uninteresting cement base, and probably don’t really understand the point or the purpose of what the ruins entail.

Personally, this is one of my favorite parts of the park as it shows the size of the First Generation Shrine.

Featuring the ruins of both the Hall of Worship (拜殿 / はいでん) and the Main Hall (本殿 / ほんでん), the park has constructed a wooden structure around the perimeter of the base where the larger Hall of Worship once stood while the Main Hall to the rear, which was elevated on a cement base remains in place.

The cement base of the Main Hall, which is well over a century old now is cracked, likely due to earthquake damage, but it otherwise remains in excellent condition. It’s a simple square-shaped pedestal that has a set of stairs in the front that would have allowed the shrine’s priests to approach the Main Hall that was placed on top. Currently, there is a barrier around it to keep people from crawling all over it as it is part of the protected heritage site.

Chiayi Park / Showa 18 Relic Museum (嘉義市史蹟資料館)

As mentioned earlier, Chiayi Park, originally known as ‘Kagi Park’, then renamed to Zhongshan Park, and finally changed back to its original name in 1996, is an expansive 268,000 square meter natural space within the confines of Chiayi City. The park features not only the ruins of the Shinto Shrine, but also the Chiayi Confucius Temple (嘉義孔廟), the Chiayi Martyrs Shrine (嘉義忠烈祠), the Sun-Shooting Tower (射日塔), the KANO baseball park, and the Chiayi Botanical Gardens (嘉義植物園). The trees in the park, most of which were planted during the Japanese-era are tall and beautiful, and there is always something taking place as it is popular with both the locals and tourists alike.

Currently located within the Administration Office and Priests Hall is the “Showa 18 Relic Museum,” which is split up into an exhibition space, and a coffee shop where visitors can enjoy some coffee, tea or afternoon snacks. The term “Showa 18” refers to the eighteenth year of Emperor Showa’s (better known in English as Hirohito) reign, coinciding with 1943 on the western calendar. Named for the year of the completion of the Second Generation Kagi Shrine, the museum features exhibitions about the shrine’s history, and features relics from the shrine that have been preserved over the years.

Within the buildings, you’ll also find a small shop that sells locally made products that celebrate the history of Chiayi, created to look like the kind of amulets that you’d purchase at a shrine in Japan, as well as a kimono rental service that is likely popular with instagrammers.

Residents of Chiayi can enter the museum free of charge, but the rest of us have to pay a 50NT admission fee to enter the buildings to check them out. The ticket price however can be used to discount anything that you purchase within the building, so if you want to have a drink, snack, or purchase one of the crafts inside, it’s not that bad. Even if you don’t purchase anything, I highly recommend going into the buildings to check them out. The museum section features some interesting exhibits, and the interior of the buildings are absolutely beautiful, and as mentioned above, have been wonderfully restored to their original condition.

Getting There

 

Address: #42 Gongyuan Street, East District, Chiayi City

嘉義市東區公園街42號

GPS: 23.481070, 120.467690

If you find yourself in Chiayi, one of the best ways to get around is to rent a scooter from one of the rental shops next to the train station. Renting a scooter, though, can sometimes be a hassle for international travelers, especially if you haven’t brought an International Drivers License along with you on your trip. So, if you’d like to make your way to Chiayi Park to check out the shrine, the Confucius Temple, or any of the other historic structures in or around the park, your best bet is to probably hop on a bus just outside of the Chiayi Train Station (嘉義車站).

Bus

In recent years, Chiayi City has upgraded its bus network into a “BRT” (Bus Rapid Transport) system similar to the one in used in Taichung. The new system has replaced all of the old Chiayi Bus (嘉義公車) routes that used to exist. So, if you’ve looked at other resources online that haven’t been updated, you might find yourself a bit confused about how to get around.

From Chiayi Station, you’ll want to hop on either Bus #7211 or Bus #7212, both of which travel a square-like route through the city center.

Link: Chiayi BRT Bus #7211 and 7212 Route Map (嘉義客運) | Map and Schedule

You also have the option of hopping on the Taiwan Tour Bus (台灣好行) #0715 from the station, but it comes much less frequently than the other two.

Youbike

If you can’t get access to a rental scooter, never fear, the weather in Chiayi is great year-round and the city has a large number of Youbike Stations where you can pick up a bicycle and drop it off. If you’re setting off from the train station, there is a Youbike station directly to left of the entrance. From there, you can make your way to Chiayi Park on your bike, riding straight down Chungshan Road (中山路) to the park, or whatever route you prefer. There are at least four Youbike stations surrounding the park, so you’ll be able to easily drop the bike off when you need to.

Apart from that, if you don’t feel like taking a bus, or riding a Youbike across town, you always have the option of grabbing a taxi at the train station. A trip to the park won’t be too expensive, and once you’re there, you’ll be able to walk to a few other destinations that are close by.

If you find yourself in Chiayi, you’ll find that there are a large number of historic destinations to experience, and the ruins of the Kagi Shrine are just one that you’ll find conveniently located within the Chiayi Park. You may not think that visiting a park is worth your precious travel time, you may not also think that the ruins of a Shinto Shrine are all that important, but when it comes to the history and the development of Chiayi City as we know it today, the shrine, played a pretty important role.

If you’re looking for places to visit, the park is close to a number of historic destinations, and you’re also in luck because there are also a number of really great coffee shops surrounding the perimeter, where you’ll be able to take a break from the sun. Obviously this is a destination that is my kind of thing, but since Chiayi really promotes its Japanese-era history for tourism, there’s probably no better place to visit than the shrine!

References

  1. Kagi Shrine | 嘉義神社 中文 | 嘉義神社 日文 (Wiki)

  2. Chiayi | 嘉義市 中文 | 嘉義市 日文 (Wiki)

  3. 嘉義街 | 嘉義郡 | 臺南州 (Wiki)

  4. 台灣神社列表 (Wiki)

  5. 嘉義公園 (Wiki)

  6. Shrine Architecture | 神社建築 中文 | 神社建築 日文 (Wiki)

  7. Modern system of ranked Shinto shrines | 近代社格制度 (Wiki)

  8. 原嘉義神社暨附屬館所 (國家文化資產網)

  9. 嘉義神社與參道外貌 (國家文化記憶庫)

  10. 臺灣日治時期地方政府廳舍建築 (Wiki)

  11. 嘉義市市定古蹟原嘉義神社附屬館所調查研究 (嘉義市文化局)

Historic Photos

  1. 臺灣國定古蹟編纂研究小組 (Facebook)

  2. 臺灣の神社遺跡 (Facebook)

  3. 帝國の臺灣 (Facebook)

  4. Geomosa (Facebook)

  5. 嘉義神社與參道外貌 (國家文化記憶庫)


Taiwanese Hokkien-style Architecture (臺灣閩南建築)

When I first started writing on this website, I spent quite a bit of time focusing on Taiwan’s historic places of worship, or at least, some of the more popular and well-known temples in the country. Why? Well, its pretty simple, its what I was interested in, and it goes without saying that temples here are absolutely beautiful.

Later, when I branched out and started publishing articles about other kinds of tourist destinations and attractions around Taiwan, I made sure to maintain a focus on the subjects that I enjoy, which for the most part have to do with the local religion, mountains and nature, and urban exploration. It takes quite a bit of my personal time to write these articles, so its important that I write about the things I care about. Thus, one of the common themes that you may have noticed by now is that the places I write about almost always share a relationship with the history of Taiwan, and are destinations that have an interesting story to tell. Afterwards, when I started writing about destinations related to the fifty year period of colonial rule, known as the Japanese-era, my research forced me to spend a considerable amount of time learning more about the architectural design characteristics of those historic places I was writing about, so that I could better explain their significance.

On a personal note, something I’ve probably never mentioned is that both my father and my late grandfather are (were) highly-skilled and widely-sought master carpenters back home. After my parents divorced, I’d sometimes get taken to a work site where they were in the middle of constructing some beautiful new house (likely in the hope that I’d carry on the family tradition), and although our relationship was never really that strong, I had to respect the mathematical genius it took for them to construct some of the things they were were building. Looking back, I probably never expected that years later, I’d be spending so much time researching and writing about these things, but in order to better understand the complicated and genius designs of those historic places I was writing about, I had to put in the extra effort to learn about their design characteristics.

Getting to the point, recently, while writing an article about Taipei’s Jiantan Historic Temple (劍潭古寺), I figured I’d do what I normally do and spend some time writing about the its special architectural characteristics. Sadly, writing that article forced me to face the sad truth that after all these years learning about the intricacies of traditional Japanese architectural design, that I actually knew very little about traditional ‘Taiwanese’ design. Finishing that article ended up taking considerably longer than I originally expected because I spent so much time researching and learning about the various elements of local architectural design, and the terms, many of which were completely new to me, that would be necessary to properly describe the design of the temple.

Suffice to say, much of what I ended up learning during those days spent in coffee shops researching the topic were things that I could go back and apply to dozens of articles that I’ve published in the past, but going back and adding descriptions of the architectural design of all of those places feels like a daunting task at the moment - so, for the time being, I’ve decided to make use of a collection of photos that I’ve taken over the years to offer readers a general idea about the intricacies of one of Taiwan’s most common styles of architectural design, and more specifically the decorative elements that make these buildings so visually spectacular.

While this might sound corny, when it comes to traditional Taiwanese architectural design, the old adage, “a picture is worth a thousand words” is something that I think can be expanded upon as “a Taiwanese temple is worth a thousand stories,” each of which you’ll find is depicted in great detail in every corner of a temple. Unfortunately, for most people, locals included, these stories remain somewhat of a mystery, and for visitors to Taiwan, this is a topic that hasn’t been covered very well in the English-language.

Obviously, the intent here is to help people better understand what they’re seeing when they’re standing in front of one of these buildings, however even though this article will be a long one, it’s important to keep in mind that I’m only touching upon the tip of the iceberg of this topic, which is something that is deserving of years of research.

‘Hokkien’ or ‘Taiwanese’?

To start, I should probably first address the wordage I’m using here, which should help readers understand some of the complicated cultural and historic factors involved. People often find themselves in heated arguments online when it comes to this topic, and although that’s something I’d prefer to avoid, as is the case with almost everything in Taiwan these days, there are some political factors involved. Whether or not you agree, when I use the term “Taiwanese-Hokkien,” I’m doing my best to use an inclusive term that reflects the history of Taiwan, and the current climate we find ourselves in with regard to the complicated relationship that Taiwan shares with its neighbor to the west.

Over the years, one of the things I’ve noticed that causes the most amount of confusion, and debate, is with regard to the difference between ‘nationality’ and ‘ethnicity.’ This is something that I’ve always found particularly confusing, mostly due to my own personal background; So, if you’ll allow me, let me make an analogy, I’ll try to explain things that way.

If you weren’t already aware, I grew up in the eastern Canadian province of Nova Scotia, an area that has been colonized by both the French and English. However, for much of its modern history, Nova Scotia, which is Latin for ‘New Scotland,’ was predominately populated by immigrants hailing from Scotland.

Being of Scottish ancestry myself, people at home would probably think I had mental issues if I suddenly started claiming that the province was part of Scotland’s sovereign territory, simply because of the history of immigration.

Similarly, in Nova Scotia, we speak a dialect of French, known as ‘Francais Acadien’ which, unlike the language spoken in Quebec or France, is a variation that hasn’t really changed much over the past few hundred years.

Thus, if I were to contrast the history of my homeland with that of Taiwan’s history, Chinese immigration to Taiwan is an example of how colonization in the early seventeenth century brought about a divergence, and a split, when it comes to language and culture.

The earliest Chinese migrants to the island hailed from what is now China’s Fujian Province (福建省), more specifically Chaozhou (潮州), Zhangzhou (漳州) and Amoy (廈門), and like the Scots who fled to Canada, many of those who came to Taiwan did so to escape economic hardship and persecution at home. This mass movement of people, the vast majority of whom were of ‘Southern-Fukienese’, or ‘Hokkien’ (閩南) in origin, sent most people on their way to more hospitable locations, such as Singapore, Malaysia, the Philippines, Indonesia, Myanmar, Southern Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam, and is why you’ll still find considerably large ethnic Chinese populations in those countries today.

Similarly, Taiwan just so happened to be another one of the destinations where the immigrants came by the boatloads, but unlike the other areas mentioned above, the island wasn’t exactly what would be considered the ‘choice’ destination for most of the migrants due to the lack of development and the harsh conditions on the island.

Coincidentally, this is a topic that I covered quite extensively after a trip to Vietnam with regard to the Assembly Halls (會館) that were constructed in the historic trading port of Hoi An (會安), where groups of migrants pooled their resources together to create places to celebrate their language and cultural heritage.

Link: Chinese Assembly Halls of Hoi An (會安華人會館)

With regard to those Assembly Halls, what is interesting is that the Hokkien were just ‘one’ of the ethnic groups hailing from that particular region of China that ended up migrating south, starting mostly during the Ming and Qing Dynasties. In fact, even though the term “Hokkien” refers to the people from “Southern Min”, they are part of a large number of ethnic groups, whose ancestry originated in the Central Plains of China several thousand years ago. However, similar to Taiwan’s other major ethnic group of migrants, the Hakka (客家), the Hokkien people are renowned for being well-traveled, and within ethnic-Chinese communities around the world, you’ll be sure to find a large portion of Hokkien people who have brought with them their own own particular style of architectural design, folk arts, cuisine, religious practices, and folklore, they have also adapted influences of their new homelands.

In Taiwan’s case, over the past few centuries, Hokkien language and culture has been influenced by their interactions with the Hakka, Indigenous Taiwanese, Europeans, and the Japanese. Such is the case that linguistically-speaking, the language spoken in Taiwan makes it difficult (not impossible) for speakers of the language hailing from China or South East Asia to comprehend, which have also had linguistic divergences of their own. Sadly, though, the Hokkien language has had a complicated history in Taiwan given that it was suppressed by both the Japanese and Chinese Nationalist colonial regimes.

Yet, despite the language going through a period of decline in the number of speakers over the past century, it has gone through somewhat of a revival in the decades since the end of Martial Law (戒嚴時期), thanks to the ‘mother-tongue movement’, which seeks to revive, restore and celebrate Hokkien, Hakka and Taiwan’s indigenous languages.

Nevertheless, as I mentioned earlier, an area of contention with regard to the language has to do with its official name, which tends to be quite political, and how it is named really depends on who you’re talking to. As is the case with Mandarin, which is referred to in Mandarin as the “National Language” (國語), “Chinese” (中文), or the “Han Language” (漢語), Hokkien is often also referred to as “Taiwanese” or “Tâi-gí” (台語). People who refer to the language as Hokkien often do so because they feel the name ‘Taiwanese’ belittles the other languages spoken on the island while the opposing side considers the term “Hokkien” inadequate because it refers to a variation of the language spoken in China, and not a language that is part of the beating heart of Taiwan’s modern identity. I’m not here to tell you what name you should use to refer to the language. That’s entirely up to you, and no matter what term you prefer, you’re not likely to end up insulting anyone.

Obviously, many things have changed since the seventeenth century, and both China and Taiwan have developed separately, and in their own ways. Shifting away from the divergence of the language, one of the other more noticeable areas where the two countries share some similarities, yet also diverge at the same time (at least from the perspective here in Taiwan) is with regard to the way Hokkien architectural design, and its adherence to cultural folklore is both created and celebrated.

One claim you’ll often hear on this side of the Taiwan strait is that Communism, and more specifically, the Cultural Revolution (文化大革命) resulted in an irreparable amount of damage to traditional Chinese cultural values and traditions, whereas in Taiwan, you’ll discover that traditional culture is widely celebrated. Personally, having lived in both countries, I’d argue that this is a massive over-simplification of the issue, and not necessarily always the case, but it is true, especially in the case of religious practices, that many of the traditional cultural values that are widely practiced and accepted here in Taiwan have not fared as well in China over the past century.

If you’ve spent any time in Taiwan, it should be rather obvious that traditional culture is widely celebrated here, and most would agree that the nation is home to some of the most important examples of Hokkien architectural design and folklore that you’ll find anywhere in the world. This isn’t to say that you won’t find a considerable amount of traditional architectural design in China, or in immigrant communities in South East Asia, but no where will you find such a large concentration as in Taiwan.

Even though Taiwan has its own fair share of folklore and heroic figures, one aspect of Hokkien culture that you’ll find celebrated here is with regard to its cultural history, especially with events that took place in China hundreds, if not thousands of years ago. The historic events and legends that you’ll find displayed on the walls and roofs of these buildings across Taiwan are quite adept at putting that relationship on display. This is the case not only with the architectural and decorative elements of Taiwan’s temples, but also with regard to the local folk religion figures who are worshiped inside, many of whom are historic Hokkien figures who have been deified for their heroic actions, but for the large part, have never stepped foot in Taiwan.

So, even though the topic might be uncomfortable for some, it doesn’t change the fact that Taiwan’s rich cultural history has been guided in part by immigrants from China, who brought with them their cultural values. That being said, even though the two sides of the strait share links with regard to culture, language and ethnicity, that doesn’t mean that they inextricably linked with one another, or that one side has the right to claim sovereignty over the other.

Link: As Taiwan’s Identity Shifts, Can the Taiwanese Language Return to Prominence? (Ketagalan Media)

Whether you refer to the language as ‘Taiwanese’ or ‘Hokkien,’ it is estimated to be spoken (to some degree) by at least 81.9% of the Taiwanese population today, and while it was once more commonly associated with older generation, and informal settings, Taiwanese has become part of a newly formed national identity. In recent years, the youth of the country have embraced the language as a means of differentiating themselves not only from the neighbors across the strait, but the Chinese Nationalist Party (國民黨), which ruled over Taiwan with an iron fist for half a century prior to democratization. Sorry Youth (拍謝少年), EggplantEgg (茄子蛋) and AmazingBand (美秀劇團) are just a few examples of some of the musical groups that perform primarily in Taiwanese, and television production has gone from low-budget soap operas for the older generation to contemporary large-budget Netflix-level productions that have become pop-culture hits.

Link: Beyond Pop-Culture: Towards Integrating Taiwanese into Daily Life (Taiwan Gazette)

The resurgence of Taiwanese since the end of Martial Law, however, is just one area where traditional ‘Hokkien’ culture has experienced a revival. One of the more admirable things about Taiwan, and is something that is (arguably) missing in China, is the amount of civil activism that takes place here. In China, for example, if the government proposes urban renewal plans that will ultimately destroy heritage structures, and displace people from their homes, there isn’t all that much in terms of opposition (this has been changing in recent years), but here in Taiwan, people have little patience for this sort of behavior, and are very vocal and willing to take to the streets to vigorously fight for the preservation of the nation’s heritage structures. Some might argue that this level of civic participation slows development, but when a government at any level is held to account, it is a good thing isn’t it?

Given that most the oldest heritage buildings that you’re likely to find in Taiwan today, are of Hokkien origin, what you’ll experience at some of the historic buildings that have become popular tourist attractions is a showcase in the masterful beauty of this style of architectural design. The Lin An Tai Mansion (林安泰古厝) in Taipei and the Lin Family Mansion (板橋林家花園) in Taoyuan are just two examples of historic mansions that have been restored and opened to the public in recent years. Similarly, places of worship, where this style of design shines at its brightest, such as Taipei’s Longshan Temple (艋舺龍山寺) and Bao-An Temple (大龍峒保安宮) are highly regarded as two of the most important specimens of Hokkien-style architecture anywhere in the world.

While the examples above are just a few of the more well-known destinations for tourists here in the north, its also true that no matter where you’re traveling in the country, you won’t find yourself too far from an example of this well-preserved style of architectural beauty. So, now that I’ve got that long-winded disclaimer out of the way, let’s start talking about what makes Taiwan’s Hokkien-style architecture so prolific.

Taiwanese Hokkien-Style Architecture (臺灣閩南建築)

Before I start, it’s probably important to note that Hokkien-style architecture in Taiwan shares similar elements of design with many of the other traditional styles of Southern Chinese architectural design. You may find yourself asking what makes this particular style of design so special and you’d probably also expect a long and complex answer, but that’s not actually the case. What stands out with regard to this architectural style is that (almost) every building is a celebration of their culture, history and folklore - and the means by which these celebrations are depicted is through a decorative style of art that is most common among the Hokkien people.

While its true that the Hokkien people who migrated to Taiwan originated in Southern China, and it’s also true that you’ll find some of these design elements adorning traditional buildings there as well, as I mentioned earlier, during the period that the two have been split, alterations to the style and the method for which these things are constructed have changed. Today, Taiwan is home to a much greater volume of buildings making use of this architectural design, and the Hokkien craftspeople here have perfected their art as they have adapted to their new environs, with modern construction techniques streamlining the process.   

In this section, I’m not going to focus on specific construction techniques or the materials used to construct buildings. Instead, I’m going to focus on two elements that define Hokkien style architecture: The Swallowtail Roof (燕尾脊), and the cut-porcelain mosaic (剪瓷雕) decorative designs, both of which are the means by which the Hokkien people so eloquently tell their stories.

The Swallowtail Ridge (燕尾脊)

If you’ve been following my blog for any period of time, you’re probably well-aware that I spend quite a bit of time describing the architectural design of the roofs of the places I visit. For locals, these things are probably just normal aspects of life, so I doubt they put much effort into thinking about the mastery of their architectural design, but for me (and possibly you if you’re reading this), a foreigner, whenever I see these impressive roofs, whether they’re covering a Hokkien or Hakka building, or a Japanese-era structure, I’m always in awe of the work that goes into constructing them.

For most of us westerners, a roof is just a roof, it doesn’t really do all that much other than cover your house, and protect you from the elements. Here in Taiwan, though, when buildings are constructed, a lot of thought and consideration goes into the design, especially when it comes to the decorative elements that are added. So, even though the Hokkien-style Swallowtail Ridge roof has become one of the more common styles of traditional architectural design that you’ll find here in Taiwan, they’re still quite amazing to behold.

The ‘swallow’ (燕子) is a pretty common species of bird here in Taiwan, so common in fact that as I’m sitting in a coffee shop writing this article, there are about twenty of them relaxing on a power line just outside the window. Even though swallows are considered to be quite beautiful, I’d (probably unfairly) compare them to crows back home in Canada. The biggest difference between the two, though, is that crows in Canada are considered pests, and if they construct a nest near your home, you do your best to get rid of it. In Taiwan on the other hand, if a pair of swallows construct a nest near your home it is considered to be good luck and people will often make an effort to ensure that the nest is safe, and that that babies won’t fall to their deaths.

With that in mind, it is common in Taiwan for people to say that ‘swallows always return to their nest,’ a metaphor for the feeling of ‘homesickness’ people have while living far away. Given that the Hokkien people are a well-traveled bunch, the swallow, and more specifically, the swallowtail roof is a reminder of home, childhood memories, and is one of the reasons why this is a style of design that never gets old, as it is so culturally entrenched in the hearts of the people here.

So what exactly is a Swallowtail Roof? Well, that answer is something that I personally found surprising.

Speaking to the different styles of roof mentioned earlier, before I give you the answer to the question above, it’s probably a good idea to provide some ideas of the common styles of architectural design that are common in Taiwan. I’ve seen estimations that there are at least sixty different variations of roof design common within Southern-Fujianese architecture, but those variations can be easily divided up into six specific styles of design, many of which can be found all over Taiwan today.

  1. Hip Roof Style (廡殿頂) - a style of roof with four slopes on the front, rear, left and right. It is the highest ranking of all of the styles of architectural design and is reserved only for palaces and places of worship. The National Theater and Concert Hall (國家兩廳院) at Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial Hall are pretty good examples of this style of design.

  2. Hip-and-Gable Style (歇山頂) - One of the most common styles of roof design, the hip-and-gable roof is a three-dimensional combination of a two-sided hip and four-sided gable roof. Many of Taiwan’s places of worship, ancestral shrines, and historic mansions use this style. It is a style of architectural design that is thought to have originated during the Tang Dynasty (唐朝), and is used all over East Asia, most significantly in Japan.

  3. Pyramid-Roof Style (攢尖頂) - a style of roof that is more common for ‘auxiliary buildings’ rather than temples. You’ll often find this style of roof covering pavilions in parks, drum towers at temples, etc. Within this specific style, it is uncommon to encounter swallowtail designs, although they might be adorned with some of the porcelain art that I’ll introduce below.

  4. Hard Mountain Style (硬山頂) - a basic style of roof design that features two slopes on the front and rear of the building. This style of design is most common in Hokkien houses and mansions around Taiwan. Despite being more subdued compared to the other styles of roof, it is a functional and practical roof that is easily repaired.

  5. Overhanging Gable Style (懸山頂) - a style of roof that became common in Taiwan during the half century of Japanese Colonial rule. This type of roof is a variation of the hip-and-gable roof mentioned above and features steep sloping hips in the front and rear of the building with triangular ends on both sides of the building.

  6. Rolling Shed Roof (捲棚頂) - considered to be similar to both the Hard Mountain and Overhanging Gable styles above, this specific style of roof is common in historic homes in Taiwan, but doesn’t feature a vertical ridge on top.

Of the six styles of roof listed above, it has been most common for the Hokkien people to make use of the ‘Hip-and-Gable’, ‘Hard Mountain’, and more recently, the ‘Overhanging Gable’ styles of architectural designs for their homes and places of worship. Notably, these particular styles of design were the three that are most easily adapted to Hokkien decorative elements, and the natural environment of Southern Fujian and Taiwan. It’s important to remember that in both of these coastal areas, any building that was constructed would have to be able to respond to the area’s natural environment and thus, sloping roofs like these helped to ensure that they were protected from periods of torrential rain.

Ultimately, the alterations that the Hokkien people made were to better fit their needs in ways that were both functional and decorative at the same time. To answer the question above, though, one thing that doesn’t often get mentioned in literature about Hokkien ‘Swallowtail Roofs’ is that they’re not actually a specific style of architectural roof design. In fact, the so-called ‘swallowtail’ is just a decorative modification of a traditional style of roof. The ‘swallowtail’ as we know it today, though, comes with several additions and decorative elements to a roof’s design that helps to ensure its cultural authenticity.

Obviously, the most important aspect is the curved ‘swallowtail ridge’ (燕尾脊 / tshio-tsit) located at the top of the roof of a building. With both ends of the ridge curving upwards, it is a design that is likened to the shape of a sharp crescent moon, and the straight lines on the ridge add beautiful symmetry to a structure. The Mid-Section (頂脊 / 正脊) of the curved ridge tends to be flat, and is an important section of the swallowtail where decorative elements are placed that assist in identifying the purpose of the building. The curved ridge also features a flat section facing outward, known as the ‘Ridge Spine’ (西施脊), where you’ll often find an incredible amount of decorative elements in the form of Hokkien cut porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕). Connecting to the ridge spine, you’ll also find Vertical Ridges (規帶) running down both the eastern and western sides of the sloping roof. These ridges are functional in that they help to keep the roof tiles locked in place, but they’re also decorative in that they feature platforms (牌頭) on the ends where you’ll find even more elaborate decorative additions.

Finally, one of the more indicative elements of Hokkien style roofs are the red tiles that cover the roof. As mentioned earlier, it is important for these roofs to be able to take care of rain water, so you’ll notice that these roofs feature what appear to be curved lines of tiles that look like tubes running down the roof. Between the tube-like tiles (筒瓦), there are also flat tiles (板瓦), which are meant to allow rainwater to flow smoothly down the roof. Crafted in kilns with Taiwanese red clay, the tiles might not seem all that important, but they do offer the opportunity to add more decorative elements in that the tube-like tiles have circular ends (瓦當) where you’ll find a myriad of designs depending on the building.

Suffice to say, when it comes to the addition of a swallowtail ridge to a building’s roof, there are a number of considerations that factor into their construction. The length, degree of curvature and decorative elements are all aspects of the design that are carefully planned, but are mostly determined by the size of a building, and more importantly the amount of money that is willing to be spent.

You’ll probably notice that the grander the swallowtail, or the number of layers to a building’s roof, is usually a pretty good indication of how important a place of worship is, or the deities who are enshrined within. In Taipei, Longshan Temple (艋舺龍山寺) is probably one of the best examples of the grandeur of a historic temple of importance, while the recently reconstructed Linkou Guanyin Temple (林口竹林山觀音寺) is probably one of the best examples of the spectacular things one can do with this style of design if you have deep enough pockets to throw at it.

Cut porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕)

Hokkien-style ‘Cut Porcelain Carvings’ come in several variations, each of which represent different themes or types of objects that are considered culturally or historically significant to the community, and the local environment. The art of cut porcelain carvings is thought to have been brought to Taiwan by Hokkien immigrants at some point in the seventeenth century, and while there are arguments as to whether Taiwan’s porcelain art originated in Chaozhou (潮州), Quanzhou (泉州) or Zhangzhou (漳州), it’s important to note that the craftsmen in Taiwan today have made a number of alterations to the traditional style which makes it difficult to determine the origin.

So, let’s just call it Taiwanese, then?

Another reason why its difficult to know how the decorative art arrived in Taiwan is due to the fact that authorities during the Qing Dynasty placed a ban on migration across the strait, which means that it was likely brought by undocumented migrants who fled the political situation in China, possibly during the late stages of the Ming Dynasty (明朝) when Koxinga (鄭成功) and his pirate navy arrived on the island given that they set off from the port in Amoy, which is today Xiamen City (廈門市) in Fujian.

One would think that this traditional style of art might be suffering from a lack of craftsmen in the modern era, few homes today are constructed in the traditional Hokkien style of architectural design, but you’d probably be surprised to learn that the creation of this cut porcelain art remains a thriving business in Taiwan, with newly constructed temples requiring new designs in addition to the thousands of already well-established places of worship across the country requiring some restoration work. Suffice to say, the creation of these carvings takes a considerable amount of time and craftsmanship, which also means that they’re quite expensive. Thus, you’ll find several large and well-known workshops owned by craftsmen, who have been working in the field for generations, but you’ll also find people who have branched out on their own and started creating their own work.

‘Cut porcelain carvings’, which are likened to life-like mosaics, are essentially a collage of small pieces of porcelain fixed to a pre-formed plaster shape, craftsmen recycle material from bowls, plates and pots, which they then crush into smaller pieces, dye with bright colors, and then attach to an object, which could be human-like figures, animals, flowers, etc. Decorative in nature, the carvings are also considered to represent themes such as ‘good luck’, ‘good fortune’, ‘longevity’, ‘protection’, etc.

As mentioned earlier, one of the major differences between the traditional Hokkien art and what’s practiced today is that artisans first form an object with wire frames that are then covered in high quality plaster with the porcelain then glued on top, which is a method that helps to ensure longevity.

When it comes to these carvings, you’ll have to keep in mind that what you’ll see really depends on the specific kind of building you’re looking at, and where you are, as the decorative elements tend to vary between different regions in Taiwan. With a wide variation of decorative elements, what you’ll see depicted on a Buddhist temple, Taoist temple, or even on a mansion may include some of the following elements:

Human Elements: The Three Stars (福祿壽), Magu (麻姑), the Eight Immortals (八仙), Nezha (哪吒), the Four Heavenly Kings (四大天王), Mazu (媽祖), Guanyin (觀音), and depictions of stores from the ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms’ (三國演義) and the ‘Journey to the West’ (西遊記), etc.

Animals and Mythical Creatures: Phoenixes (龍鳳), dragons (龍), peacocks (孔雀), Aoyu (鰲魚), carp (鯉魚), Qilin (麒麟), lions, elephants, tigers, leopards, horses, etc.

Floral and Fruit Elements: Peonies (牡丹), lotuses (蓮花), narcissus flowers (水仙), plum blossoms (梅花), orchids (蘭花), bamboo (竹子), chrysanthemum (菊花), pineapples, wax apples, grapes, etc.

While some of these elements are quite straight-forward, quite a few of them are completely foreign to people who aren’t from Taiwan, so I’ll offer an introduction to some of the most important of the ‘Cut Porcelain’ decorative elements.

The Three Stars (三星 / 福祿壽)

One of the more common roof-decorations you’ll find in Taiwan are the depictions of the three elderly figures at the top-center of a swallowtail roof. Known as the ‘Sanxing’ (三星), which is literally translated as the ‘three stars’, you might also hear them referred to as ‘Fulushou’ (福祿壽), a Mandarin play-on words for ‘Fortune’, ‘Longevity’ and ‘Prosperity’.

In this case, Fu (福), Lu (祿), and Shou (壽) appear as human-like figures and are regarded as the masters of the three most important celestial bodies in Chinese astrology, Jupiter, Ursa Major and Canopus. When you see the ‘Sanxing’ on top of a temple, they appear as three bearded wise men. Coincidentally they might also look a bit familiar to the average observer as ‘Fuxing’ (福星) is depicted as Yang Cheng (楊成), a historic figure from the Tang Dynasty, while ‘Luxing’ (綠星) is represented by the ‘God of Literature’ (文昌帝君), and Shouxing (壽星), who is represented by Laozi (老子), the founder of Taoism.

Within Chinese iconography, these ‘three wise men’ are quite common, and their images can be found throughout China, Vietnam and South East Asia. Here in Taiwan, you’ll most often find them adorning the apex of a Taoist or Taiwanese Folk Religion Temple.

The Double-Dragon Pagoda (雙龍寶塔)

Known by a number of names in both Mandarin and English, the ‘Double-Dragon Pagoda’ (雙龍寶塔) or the ‘Double Dragon Prayer Hall’ (雙龍拜塔) is essentially a multi-layered pagoda that is similarly placed at the top-center of a Buddhist temple, or a mixed Buddhist-Taiwanese folk-religion place of worship.

As usual, while acting as a decorative element, the pagoda also represents a number of important themes - it is used as a method of ‘warding off evil spirits’ and for disaster prevention, in addition to representing both filial piety and virtue. For Buddhists in particular, pagodas have been important buildings with regard to the safe-keeping of sacred texts, so having the dual dragons encircling the pagoda in this way can also be interpreted as ‘protecting the Buddha’ or ‘precious things’.

Whenever you encounter a temple with one of these Double-Dragon Pagodas, if you look closely, the pagoda will have several levels, with two green dragons on either side, or encircling it. In Mandarin, there’s a popular idiom that says “It is better to save a life than to build a seven-level pagoda” (救人一命、勝造七級浮屠), so having the dragons protecting the pagoda speaks to the salvation one might receive while visiting the temple as it is protected by dragons from the heavens. That being said, the number of levels you see on the pagoda is also quite important as the number of levels indicates the rank of the deity enshrined within the temple.

Double-Dragon Clutching Pearls (雙龍搶珠)

One of the other common images depicted in the center of a roof of a temple is the ubiquitous ‘Double-Dragon Clutching Pearls’ design. However, unlike the two mentioned above, when it comes to the dragons clutching pearls, there is a wide variation of designs, so even though it’s a common theme found on Taoist places of worship, you may not encounter the exact same design very often. Nevertheless, no matter how they might vary in appearance, what always remains the same is that there will be a glowing red pearl in the middle with dragons on either side.

Originating from an ancient folklore story, the image of two dragons surrounding a pearl is something that you’ll find not only on temples like this, but in paintings, carved in jade, and various other forms of artwork.

The origin of the story is a long one, so I’ll try my best to briefly summarize how the image became popularized - essentially, a long time ago, a group of fairies were attacked by a demon while resting near a sacred pond only to be saved by a pair of green dragons. When the ‘Queen Mother of the West’ (王母娘娘) heard about this, she gifted the two dragons with a golden pearl that would grant one of them immortality.

Neither of the dragons wanted to take the pearl, showing great humility to each other, so after a while the Jade Emperor (玉皇) gifted them a second pearl. Afterwards, the dragons devoted their immortality to helping others, and used their power to send wind and rain to assist with the harvest.

Thus, when it comes to this particular image, what you’ll want to keep in mind is that they are meant to highlight themes of ‘harmony’, ‘prosperity’, ‘humility’, ’good luck’ and the ‘pursuit of a better life,’ which makes them a perfect addition to a place of worship.

Dragons and Aoyu (雙龍 / 鰲魚)

In addition to being featured at the top-center of a roof, you’ll also find cut-porcelain depictions of dragons located in various other locations on the exterior of a Hokkien-style building. By this point, I’d only be repeating myself if I went into great detail about the purpose of the dragons, but it’s important to note that the ‘dragon’ is something that is synonymous with traditional Chinese culture, and given that people of Chinese ethnic origin consider themselves to be ‘descendants of the dragon’ (龍的傳人), and the emperors themselves regarded as reincarnations of dragons, they are particularly important within the cultural iconography of the greater-China region.

In the English-language, dragons are merely dragons, but in Mandarin, there are a multitude of names to describe these mythical creatures in their various forms. Similarly, for most westerners, dragons are regarded as fire-breathing monsters, but within Chinese culture, their roles are completely reversed. Dragons are noted for their power over water and nature, and instead of being aggressive creatures that bring about death and destruction, they’re known for their good deeds.

Most commonly found adorning the main ridge and at both of the ends, the cut-porcelain depictions of dragons that you’ll encounter on roofs in Taiwan are often the most complex decorative elements on a building and are meant to symbolize power, enlightenment and protection, especially with regard to their ability to prevent fire. The most common dragon that you’ll find adorning the roofs of Taiwan’s places of worship are of the ‘hornless-dragon mouth’ or ‘chiwen’ (鴟吻) variety. Translated literally as ‘owl mouth’, this type of dragon is known as one of the ‘Nine Dragons’ (九龍), each of which are known for specific protective functions. In this case, ‘chiwen’ dragons are known for their affinity for swallowing things, especially fire. They’re depicted as hornless dragons, with fish-like, truncated bodies, large wide-open mouths, and colorful scale-like spikes all over their bodies.

That being said, if you look closely at the ‘dragons’ that adorn the top of temple roofs, you might notice that they’re not always of the ‘chiwen’ variety and are often a complex fusion of other mythical creatures. While these creatures almost always appear with a dragon’s head, fooling most people, you’ll find that they may also feature the body of a phoenix, tortoise, horse, etc.

Similarly, sometimes what you might think is a dragon actually isn’t a dragon at all.

Which to tell the truth, can often be quite confusing if you’re not adept at examining the finer details of these decorative elements.

Even though these other creatures appear dragon-like, especially with regard to the ‘chiwen’ variety, its very likely that you’ve encountered another common variety of Hokkien cut-porcelain decorative elements. Depicting a mythical creature known as an “Aoyu” (鰲魚), these creatures feature a dragon head and animal body fusion. An ‘Aoyu’ is basically a ‘carp’ that is in the process of transforming into a dragon. With one foot in the door regard to the transformation process, an Aoyu features the head of a dragon, but maintains the body of a fish. Similar to the role that the chiwen play, you’ll often find Aoyu featured on both of the ends of the roof’s ridge as they’re likewise known for their ability to ‘swallow fire and spit water’ meaning that they’re also there to offer protection to the temple.

Of all the cut-porcelain art that you’ll find decorating places of worship in Taiwan, you’ll probably notice that the dragons are often the most complex in terms of their design and the attention to detail that goes into crafting their images. The complexity of the dragon’s head and the spiky-scales on their bodies require a tremendous amount of work, which should highlight just how important they are.

Cut-Porcelain Decorative Murals

While the larger cut-porcelain decorative elements are much easier to identify, you’ll also notice that there are smaller, yet very elaborate mural-like decorations located along the roof’s main ridge, on the ridge platform and on the lower sections of the roof. Even though almost every place of worship in Taiwan features these types of murals, they are often quite small, and you have to look very carefully to actually identify them. If you find yourself traveling the country with a local friend, unless they’re a temple experts, it’s safe to say they won’t be much help in identify what story these murals are depicting, which is part of the reason why these things can be so confusing. If you find yourself really interested in knowing exactly what was going on, you’d be better off asking one of the temple volunteers inside, or trying to find the information online.

Even though there is a wide variation of stories that each of these murals depict, they generally illustrate the following themes: Mythology (神話), events from the Investiture of the Gods (封神演義), events from the Spring and Autumn Period (春秋時期), events from the Chu–Han War (楚漢戰爭), events from the Romance of the Three Kingdoms (三國演義), events from the Journey to the West (西遊記), Buddhist stories (佛的故事), and finally, Taiwanese Folklore Stories (台灣神明傳說).

To highlight the complexity of identifying what these murals depict, if I use the ‘Romance of the Three Kingdoms’ as an example, the novel is over 800,000 words long, features 120 chapters, and more than a thousand characters. So, even if someone tells you that the mural is depicting a story from the novel, you’d have to be quite well-versed in Chinese Classics to be able to identify the specific event.

However, when it comes to the local stories that you’ll find depicted on these buildings, you’re going to find murals depicting events in the lives of the most popular religious figures in Taiwan, and those that hail from the Hokkien homeland. Some of these stories are likely to include: Mazu conquering Thousand-Mile-Eye and Wind-Following Ear (媽祖收千順二將軍), Mazu Assisting Koxinga (媽祖幫助鄭成功), Tangshan Crosses the Taiwan Strait (唐山過臺灣), the Eight Immortals Depart and Travel to the East (八仙出處東遊記), the Eight Immortals Cross the Sea (八仙過海), etc. Similarly, it’s important to note that while these events are often depicted with the help of Hokkien cut-porcelain art, you’ll also find them carved into wood, painted on walls, and carved in stone.

If you’ve ever seen a Lonely Planet, or any travel guide about Taiwan for that matter, its very likely that you’ve seen a photo of one of a cut-porcelain dragon in the foreground with Taipei 101 in the background. While it may seem cliche at this point, the mixture of these two elements helps to illustrate both the traditional and modern fusion of contemporary life in Taiwan today.

The Hokkien people make up an estimated seventy-five percent of Taiwan’s population today, so even though it may seem like they are the predominant cultural force on the island, its also important to remember that the modifications that have been made to their style of design over the years have adapted elements of Taiwan’s other cultural groups, including the island’s Indigenous people, the Hakka’s, etc.

What you’ll see in Taiwan today, while similar to that of Southern Fujian is a style of architectural design that has been refined to meet the needs of the people of Taiwan, and thus, no matter where you fall on the argument of ‘Hokkien vs. Taiwanese’, it goes without saying that this style of design has become ubiquitous as an aspect of the cultural identity of the Taiwanese nation today.

Obviously, as I mentioned earlier, this article is only touching on the top of the iceberg when it comes to this topic. Sadly, it remains a topic that isn’t widely accessible in the English-language, and information tends to be hard to come by. Still, I hope it helps clear up any questions any of you may have with regard to what you’re seeing when you visit a temple or historic building in Taiwan during your travels. If not, feel free to leave a comment, or send an email, and I’ll do my best to answer any other questions you may have.

References

  1. Taiwanese Hokkien | 臺灣話 (Wiki)

  2. Hokkien culture | 閩南文化 (Wiki)

  3. Hokkien Architecture | 闽南传统建筑 (Wiki)

  4. Architecture of Taiwan | 臺灣建築 (Wiki)

  5. 剪瓷雕 | 燕尾脊 (Wiki)

  6. 台灣建築裡的秘密:從天后宮到行天宮,每間寺廟都是活生生的台灣移民史 (Buzz Orange)

  7. 極具特色的北方歇山式屋頂 ,硬山與廡殿式的結合,仙人騎鶴帶頭鎮守 (廟宇藝術)

  8. 台灣傳統民居簡介 (文山社區大學)

  9. 最常見的動物裝飾 (老古板的古建築之旅)

  10. 台灣民間信仰 (Wiki)