分享我在原住民族語言研究發展中心進行的借詞研究田野調查。
Fieldwork
Fieldwork
Over past two months, I was constantly on the road, traveling from one village to another, one hill to another.
My task was to collect as many loanwords as possible from every indigenous people that I visited; however, my collection so far has reached way beyond the scope of a research report on loanwords.
What I have learned about loanwords from indigenous elders is the subject of my presentation in the first annual international conference organized by ILRDC (Indigenous Languages Research and Development Center). The date is December 27th (Saturday) and the venue is with National Taiwan Normal University in Taipei, Taiwan.
So, I will skip that serious part of the story here and focus on the highways, villages and peoples. Or precisely, the things that make me want to return and stay. I think I can become a farmer, too.
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Highways
To get to the villages, my colleague and I traveled by train and car.
Most of the times we drove because public transportation is not quite accessible in the mountainous region, usually with only two shifts per day. We needed a more convenient means of travelling; otherwise, it would take too much time to finish even one round of visit to each of the sixteen indigenous groups from Amis to the recently recognized Hla'alua and Kanakanavu. So we needed a rental.
Certain regions such as Alishan (Tsou territory) and Wushe (Seediq territory; probably owing thanks to Cingjing Farm at a higher altitude nearby) are popular tourist spots; connecting highways such as Tai18 and Tai14 are very well maintained, wide and smooth. I often found myself reaching at the destination already without even feeling it despite the direction sign.
Local people told me their villages are usually not within the sightseeing track; they welcome the flow of tourists (thereby incomes), but know well enough avoid being searched or gazed upon as exotic objects. Tsou's Tapangu and Tftya villages are still minutes away from Tai18, and Seediq's villages are even remoter, hiding themselves deep in the bosom of Chilai Mount Ranges.
On the contrary, Tai9 and Tai10 in the east or Tai29 and Tai20 in the south lead travelers directly through indigenous villages.
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We met with Amis elders at Tukar Village in Yuli by Tai9, and a beautiful woman lying facing upward with her hair dipping into the blue water at Paterongang in Fengbin by Tai11 as our Kavalan teachers told us to look toward the farthest hill. There she lies, her chin raising high.
Also, we saw a woman drying her aiyu seeds in the sunshine in her village Takanua after we passed through 19 colorful steel bridges over Nanzixian River, Nagisalu, Maya, and reached the end of Tai29. There she was carefully sorting her harvest. But I actually am not sure if she is Kanakanavu or Bunun. Based on appearance, I would vote for the latter
Green Yushan ranges separate Kanakanavu in Namasia from Hla'alua in Tauyuan. Previously known commonly as Tsou, both groups actually have developed their own cultures and languages, distinct as much from Tsou as from each other. Just very recently in June 2014, these two groups finally earned recognition as independent indigenous groups. Local told me they are still observing whether this 'government recognition' is good for the people or not. They are still watching. However, from my research of loanwords, I could already feel how 'purity' works for people as the legitimate reason for their indigenous identity. They would go as far as denying the mixed past if any trace of it is still yet to be obliterated.
Oh, that is the serious part of the story. Should stop here. May Peace be with the victims of Morakot Typhoon in 2009; this memorial park on Tai29 quietly says the prayer.
A Missing Teacher
After driving through so many twists and turns on Tai14 and Nan85, we finally reached Alang Toda (南投仁愛鄉都達村，原精英村) for our appointment with a local teacher of Seediq language. Being an hour ahead of our appointment, I therefore decided to move further on Nan85 to see what lay ahead.
On the contrary, Tai9 and Tai10 in the east or Tai29 and Tai20 in the south lead travelers directly through indigenous villages.
Also, we saw a woman drying her aiyu seeds in the sunshine in her village Takanua after we passed through 19 colorful steel bridges over Nanzixian River, Nagisalu, Maya, and reached the end of Tai29. There she was carefully sorting her harvest. But I actually am not sure if she is Kanakanavu or Bunun. Based on appearance, I would vote for the latter
Green Yushan ranges separate Kanakanavu in Namasia from Hla'alua in Tauyuan. Previously known commonly as Tsou, both groups actually have developed their own cultures and languages, distinct as much from Tsou as from each other. Just very recently in June 2014, these two groups finally earned recognition as independent indigenous groups. Local told me they are still observing whether this 'government recognition' is good for the people or not. They are still watching. However, from my research of loanwords, I could already feel how 'purity' works for people as the legitimate reason for their indigenous identity. They would go as far as denying the mixed past if any trace of it is still yet to be obliterated.
Oh, that is the serious part of the story. Should stop here. May Peace be with the victims of Morakot Typhoon in 2009; this memorial park on Tai29 quietly says the prayer.
A Missing Teacher
Fields of tomato, lily flower and cabbage were on the side, so were some tea plantations and factories. Mushrooms are probably grown on fallen tree trunks here too, since indigenous peoples, including Atayal, Truku and Seediq, know the loanword 'kansoki' (かんそうき, drying machine) from Japanese. It was the machine to keep mushrooms from dampening.
It did not take long for me to reach the end of Nan85, where I literally had to make a U-turn because an elementary school was standing at the end of the road. It is Hezou Elementary School, with just a little more than 100 (students and staff included), but a very long history since 1914 when it started as a ばんどうきょういくしょ(learning place for aboriginal kids, 蕃童教育所) for Seediq Toda. The school looked quite petite and neat; I figured it must be very free to study here so far away from the outside world.
Then we returned to Alang Toda for our appointment with the school teacher. On our way back to the village, my colleague made several calls to the teacher, but none of them was answered. Soon did we find that he was neither at home waiting for us, nor at school as he told us he would be. He was gone; we had come all the way for over 350 kilometers for a missing appointment.
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The night was approaching and the temperature at this village situated at an altitude of 1,200m was quickly dropping. As I wondered about our next step, local Seediq people came and invited us in their hut to bask in the warmth of fire; they also made phone calls for us to find the missing teacher. One man who claimed to be the missing teacher's Uncle also came to our help. He rode his motorbike and searched for his nephew all over the village. Finally, a call revealed that our appointment indeed had forgot about us and was already in Puli Township waiting to bring his wife back to Alang Toda. He would not return until after another two or three hours.
I wasn't really disappointed or angry; instead, I was amused and content. My chats with local Seediq people over fire had kicked the missing teacher out of my thought. I was happy and warm; I thought I wanted to stay here in this quiet village.
The missing teacher's Uncle was probably too embarrassed. He insisted on inviting us to his home for supper (another Seediq family was already there), and he shared as generously as an indigenous hunter normally would, feeding his guests with every delicacy he had in his possession. We had goat, deer and turtle; they were so delicious (but no trouble-making photos). After dinner came more refreshments. They even agreed to help with my search of Seediq loanwords over tea and fruit, since they too were fluent Seediq speakers.
Later when he returned to the village, the missing teacher invited us to his place and sweetened our mouth with lemon aiyu jelly with honey. But I didn't mind at all. A missing teacher turned out to be a blessing; I had a wonderful and productive evening.
Honestly speaking, school teachers with certification for teaching indigenous languages are not the only (or the best) source of language information. Many times, villagers without any certification do better because they speak naturally and will not be dictated by "what should be or should have been" (大道理). This is a good point behind my fieldwork.
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Tai21
After Alang Toda, I decided to take Tai21 or New Central Cross-Island Highway (新中橫公路) to connect with Tai18 and arrive at Tsou's Lalauya Village. The highest point of Tai21, Tataka, reaches as high as 2,610 m.
In fact, this New Central Cross-Island Highway did not really 'cross' the island because the line to connect with Tai30 to Yuli Township in the east was abandoned due to environment-friendly considerations. That's why on the map, it looks more like a north-south trans-island highway, rather than an east-west cross line.
On the day we drove, the weather was a bit chilly but the sky was blue; streaks of sunlight penetrated layers of white clouds and gently touched upon the wheat land. It was indeed a pleasant ride, and the mountains were truly magnificent and beautiful. They inspired awe.
Summing Up
For our intensive travelling schedule during the past two months, we have covered at least 4,824.25 kilometers, equivalent to rounding the coastline of Taiwan for four times.
Minor accidents had occurred such as a slight collision with a truck on the very narrow Hsin122 that winds all the way up to Atayal's Paskwalan Village, a reverse hit against the concrete wall on the way to Takanua, or even getting lost in some bamboo wood on 青山產業道路 in the evening and trying to back my way out against all darkness. That one was scary. All these, fortunately, were not considered serious by the rental contract; so I was freed from any potential compensation.
Indeed, we had fun; it was sophisticated fun. We enjoyed the ride, the scenery and the people we met. I will probably do it again in December by myself if time and budget allow. We will see. Maybe I will even find myself work somewhere, cutting cabbages or digging up gingers. That will be wonderful; I will certainly smile at that new life of laboring with hands and feet. That is true Field Work.
Honestly speaking, school teachers with certification for teaching indigenous languages are not the only (or the best) source of language information. Many times, villagers without any certification do better because they speak naturally and will not be dictated by "what should be or should have been" (大道理). This is a good point behind my fieldwork.
After Alang Toda, I decided to take Tai21 or New Central Cross-Island Highway (新中橫公路) to connect with Tai18 and arrive at Tsou's Lalauya Village. The highest point of Tai21, Tataka, reaches as high as 2,610 m.
In fact, this New Central Cross-Island Highway did not really 'cross' the island because the line to connect with Tai30 to Yuli Township in the east was abandoned due to environment-friendly considerations. That's why on the map, it looks more like a north-south trans-island highway, rather than an east-west cross line.
On the day we drove, the weather was a bit chilly but the sky was blue; streaks of sunlight penetrated layers of white clouds and gently touched upon the wheat land. It was indeed a pleasant ride, and the mountains were truly magnificent and beautiful. They inspired awe.
Summing Up
For our intensive travelling schedule during the past two months, we have covered at least 4,824.25 kilometers, equivalent to rounding the coastline of Taiwan for four times.
Minor accidents had occurred such as a slight collision with a truck on the very narrow Hsin122 that winds all the way up to Atayal's Paskwalan Village, a reverse hit against the concrete wall on the way to Takanua, or even getting lost in some bamboo wood on 青山產業道路 in the evening and trying to back my way out against all darkness. That one was scary. All these, fortunately, were not considered serious by the rental contract; so I was freed from any potential compensation.
Indeed, we had fun; it was sophisticated fun. We enjoyed the ride, the scenery and the people we met. I will probably do it again in December by myself if time and budget allow. We will see. Maybe I will even find myself work somewhere, cutting cabbages or digging up gingers. That will be wonderful; I will certainly smile at that new life of laboring with hands and feet. That is true Field Work.
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