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| Doc: Jillian Kuo |
August 27, 2025
My journey in Taitung began with Tjuabar, the first chapter of our month-long residency. From Just Art House in the early morning, we set out eastward. The road curved gently, cradled by the Pacific Ocean on our left, shimmering like liquid light, and the emerald mountains rising silently on our right, grand and serene. A soft drizzle fell, mingling the scent of the sea with the earthy aroma of wet hills, creating a quiet, almost magical harmony. Each turn, each ripple of wind, felt like a gentle welcome, guiding our first footsteps into this extraordinary land.
Jo and An drove us that morning, their voices warm with stories and laughter. Along the Southern Highway, they pointed out hidden hot springs tucked into the hills. I watched the landscape blur past, feeling the rain, the mountains, the ocean, and I couldn’t help but wonder, “Will I get the chance to soak there someday?”
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| Doc: Bunga Dessri |
Soft rain began to fall as we arrived, painting the village in delicate mist. The drops kissed the earth, our hair, and clothes. Rather than dampening our spirits, the rain added a quiet warmth, a sense of intimacy. We laughed as we shared umbrellas, feeling like children discovering joy in the simplest of gifts. And it was here, in this gentle rain, that we met our guides: Ljeljeng and Giyu. Ljeljeng, a patient and kind English teacher for the village children, and Giyu, a playful and warm-hearted artist, welcomed us with sincere smiles. Their presence immediately made the village feel familiar, as though we had arrived home.
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| Doc: Bunga Dessri |
Our first stop was the Patjaljinuk Puvuvuwan family prayer house. In this sacred, humble space, we offered prayers, seeking permission and blessings to accompany our steps during our stay. I could feel the presence of generations past in the quiet resonance of the room, a living testament to reverence and care. Paules, a descendant of the family, shared stories of his ancestors’ courage, dedication, and love for their heritage. They documented traditions, celebrated a festival every five years, and nurtured cultural continuity despite external pressures. Listening, I felt the weight and beauty of resilience, the power of love, commitment, and faithfulness to one’s roots.
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| Doc: Bunga Dessri |
Lunch in the village was a feast not only of flavors but of stories. An elder chef, Uncle Lang, prepared dishes of venison and snail skewers, the latter quickly became my favorite. Each bite carried warmth and welcome, the flavors echoing the care and history of this land.
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| Doc: Bunga Dessri |
At Giyu’s house, I was mesmerized by the variety of milets, their colors, textures, and uses. Much like rice in my own culture, milets were central to life here, sustenance, ritual, and community intertwined in every grain. Learning how each type held significance, how they were cultivated and shared, gave me a profound appreciation for the Paiwan relationship with the land, a deep respect for nature, and a philosophy of life woven through everyday practices.
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| Doc: Jillian Kuo |
In the afternoon, we visited Talem to meet the youth group TBM. Their voices, pure and luminous, echoed across the post-rain air, blending with the gentle hush of the landscape. Dinar and I shared Sundanese music, melodies unfamiliar yet received with open hearts. Some moved with the rhythm, their laughter and joy interlacing with our songs. In that moment, music revealed itself as a universal bridge, one that crosses boundaries of language, time, and culture.
The day closed with a circle of hands, dancing forward and back to the rhythms of tradition. The simple movements carried unexpected depth, a silent weaving of hearts and spirits that stretched across generations and distances.
My first footsteps in Tjuabar left an imprint on my soul. This was more than a visit—it was an encounter with ancestors, with the land, and with the generosity of human hearts. It was present in the rain, the smiles, the clasped hands, and the melodies drifting into the sky.
I know this is only the first step of our month-long Voice of the Ocean residency. A beginning of light and rain, song and laughter, knowledge and love—an opening that will guide every step we take in this beautiful place.
You can read my first story about my journey in Taitung by CLICKING HERE.
: First Footsteps in Tjuabar){kind=link}
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