Month: May 2019

The Arrival

Culture is not static, but is architecture?

When arriving to Kucapungane after a seven hour hike, my first priority was resting. There was a shared space near the home where our group would be sleeping. It was a roofed area that was open on all sides and was positioned in a way that felt as if I was cantilevered over the mountain.  Peaking over the edge, I could see the structure was situated in a way that if I dropped something below it might be impossible to retrieve it. The common area was organized with a place to cook, dine, and casually gather. It is space that can provide protection from the rain, but still allow for 360 degree views of Beidawu Mountain (北大武山). This is where our group shared most of our meals. Taking a moment to sit on an actual surface, I observed the home directly across from me. While admiring the stone slabs, the proportions of the apertures, and the personalized objects surrounding; I glanced at the roof and noticed a small solar panel.  The Kucapungane settlement  has been in existence for an estimated six hundred years, and I was witnessing one of the most modern environmental integrations for energy collection. This solar panel represents the symbolic conflict within the Rukai Tribe to evolve while maintaining authenticity.  Efforts to preserve Kucapungane and teach younger tribe members historic building techniques, are important to tribal identity. Unfortunately, there seems to be a conflict between the modern and the traditional.  Once Rukai tribe members had access to “on-the-grid” comforts in successive relocated sites, preserving Kucapungane  as it was originally conceived historically has been challenging.  Culture is not static, people are not static, but there is an expectation that historic architectural sites should be.

The Solar Panel

Only Rukai members 40 and over have lived in the original settlement of Kucapungane and community members that have a strong memory of this place are aging.  In 1978, the Rukai Tribe made a decision to relocate to the base of the mountain. In 2009 after Typhoon Morakot, they were forced to relocate again.  The current settlement, Rinari,  sits at the base of the mountain. In 2017, the Kucupugane site was named a World Monument, and the government of Taiwan started to invest in the restoration of the Kucapungane settlement.  They have proposed to renovate forty of the over 20 homes over the next 10 years.  Each year, four homes will be selected from an application process that requires partial investment from the family and a requirement of a family member to participate in the construction process.  

What is the future of Kucapungane?  From my observations, three options remain a possibility.  It can be a space treated as a sacred heritage site that is frozen in time as a museum-site artifact, or it can be treated as a space for Rukai members to re-occupy, retrofit, and evolve as community members see fit, or it can be a combination of the two. The long term goals of the space are not clear, but the reality is that it will be difficult for those living with electricity and indoor plumbing to return. So, what does it mean if  you freeze a culture in time?  Is is subjected to cultural tropes that are outdated and fictionalized?  There seems to be a danger that exists with freezing a heritage in the memory of greater society. Especially a group of people that are continuing to evolve.  It is important to reconcile the ways that culture is not static.  The ancestors existed in the past, but they live in the now.   And in the now, many people want to access indoor plumbing and electricity.  The challenge of how they reconcile these competing factors continues to be an issue.

Indigenous Architecture & Site Planning:

The most striking element of the Kucapungane settlement is the creative site planning.  The way the homes are organized and settled into the mountain required intentional and thoughtful planning.  Even the spacing of the homes among each other are harmoniously consistent. Each home is linked by a common patio and that patio acts as a sidewalk connecting each building.  Imagine that to walk from home to home, you would have to enter your neighbors front yard. Imagine the ways that your relationships with your neighbors may be different if this was the approach to the design.  The shared patios is inlaid with slate. Some homes had a seating area surrounding the patio signaling that they were spaces welcome for a pause and others were just enclosures that signaled you should pass quickly through.  The architecture itself is in various states of preservation. There are homes that have been continually maintained by families throughout the years, and there are others that are in a ruinous state. I could clearly see the slate stacked walls have the staying power in the structural longevity of the space.  They remain peaking out at various heights. The size of the homes may vary based on the hierarchy and importance of the family. The range from 168 m wide to 250 m wide. When walking into the spaces, what I’ve noticed not only here but throughout Asian is the threshold height is quite low and the threshold is built so that you must raise your foot to step inside.  If you bump your head once, you will remember that in order to enter this spaces you must always bend down and lift your foot. The typical door height is below 5’4”. One could imagine that the time these areas were built the society was in general shorter, but it has also said that when you enter into the home you must humble yourself by bowing and the compressed structure makes this a physical requirement. You must bow before you enter the home. Once you enter, the interior material is a dark stone and the space has minimal windows.  In fact, when we slept in one of the homes, the morning was so evident as when the first person opened the door, light punctured the space like a shard.  The space had a total of two similarly sized rooms. There were twelve people total asleep in the house, and I think we were all so exhausted from the hike that sleeping on a stone slate floor in a sleeping bag seemed comfortable. We were lined up like sardines on the raised platform.  The exterior environment in the mountain is so pleasant. I can imagine the public exterior area was occupied more than the home throughout the day. The home serves the function for protection from extreme weather, some cooking, storage of  personal items, and sleeping.

Rukai Women

When in Rinari Settlement the Rukai women I immediately sensed the women are the heartbeat of the community. When visiting, I can also see that the older generation of women serve a critical function in the community with babysitting and taking care of the younger children. I imagine that in 1970’s version of Kucapungane, women would go to the weaving room (the tabelangane) to make the clothing, they would care for the children, they would clean and require the natural meat for the hunt, and tend to the farming.  Anything that would be needed as a purchased item would have to be carried in the (four-eight hour) hike. The logistical distance from the school, the healthcare, the grocery store are a barrier to any permanent re-settlement.

The Rukai community is organized around activities in the community churches. Within the Rinari Settlement, there are a total of four churches.  So, on Wednesday and Sunday many people are engaged in church activities. (The Ming Dynasty stopped the growth of Christianity in the 1860’s early following Spanish and Dutch colonization, but in the mid 19th century US and UK missionaries promoted Christianity.) We arrived on Easter Sunday, and were invited to a church event.  There wasn’t pageantry or special hats and dresses that I have grown to anticipate on Easter. Women and men were in work clothes and several church members were installing the new patio stone flooring on the exterior patio. This looked like grueling and intensive work.

Women and housing present an interesting issue. Like many cultures, historically Rukai women were unable to inherit property. This was also the case for the Rukai Settlement. So many of the places that are in Kucupagane, the women in the society have less input because in general, they don’t have ownership.  This creates a complexity in deciding the future of Kucupagane. Women may feel connected to the place, but they do not have any legal connection to the land.

The Tablegane in Rinari

The tabelgane (weaving room) is a women only space, and in Kucupangane (top of mountain) it is in a ruinous state.  They have re-built an example of this very particular space in the Rinari Settlement. The space is currently unused. When reaching Kucapungane, I realized that Tabelgane has a big problem. It does not fit the context. It was built in as a standalone home, not a rear retaining wall against a tiered mountain structure. Also, the front patio area and other contextual surroundings are missing. A building alone does not represent culture or the context of its history.  You can not transport a building to a place and insert the people and expect the building will be able to do the work but the beauty of Kucapungane is the intelligent site planning. This is missing from the latest Tablegane.

 

Japanese Colonization (1895-1945):

Throughout Taiwan there is evidence of Japanese culture, and this is also clear in Kucapungane. Japanese colonizers added a prison and a school.  The prison was quite small and the school was large, but the school proved to be a substantial shift in the culture. Rukai young people were required to learn Japanese and had a structure built dedicated to this purpose.    

     I am not a recreational hiker.  When I submitted my research proposal to Fulbright, I understood that indigenous architectural sites I was proposing to research would be challenging to access. The Tao site is on a remote island in southeastern Taiwan and the Rukai site is a 6-8 hour hike in the mountains. On Monday, April 25 I came to understand how difficult the Rukai Journey is to Kucapungane.  Beidawu mountain is nestled in Southeast Taiwan and stands at an elevation of 3092 M (10,144 Ft). A subgroup of the Rukai community settled in this area and  integrated housing into the cascading tiers layered in the mountain. It is an exquisite integration of nature blended with architecture. Materially they used the mountain rocks to create walls and structure and wood to create the roofing structures. The stone slabs are resilient, they stood the test of time and largely remain throughout in a ruinous state. The wood is long gone in most homes. The stone can be found in the mountain and in the surrounding area. The wood is the hardest material to acquire and the most difficult to maintain. It takes approximately 20 years to grow the tree you will need for a strong beam. And while the mountain is covered in trees, the trunk of the tree is not the strength and diameter needed to create a  strong enough beam. Since the tribe relocated the settlement in 1974 to have more access to modern amenities and economic opportunities, the site in Kucupagunae site in Beidawu mountains has been largely abandoned. In 2016, the site was declared a heritage site by the World Monuments Foundation, and since then, has been in a gradual process of restoration.  The majority of the tribe members currently live at the base of the site in Rinari settlement.  

     The natural landscape surrounding Beidawu mountain is gorgeous. I started the hike the day after Easter Sunday. When most Americans were completing their celebration rituals; I was beginning my Monday admiring God’s creations. As we started our journey, (5 students, co professor, teaching assistant, and two guides), I stared at the mountain, I took in the fresh air and took a vow to be present and mouthed beneath my breath,“This is crazy.” One of the students overheard me and giggled and added, “I also think this is crazy.” But, visiting this site is one of the reasons I came to Taiwan. Existing indigenous architecture is rare particularly with this type of historical context. So I extended myself beyond my comfort zone. Staring at the beauty of the mountain and the surrounding riverbed, I mentally confirmed that the most beautiful places in this world are natural landscape, and architecture has yet to live up to the what was created naturally. Mother Nature is brilliant. She will always be the greatest architect of all time. There are some spaces that have designed with the express intent to mimic nature’s aesthetic wonder – The Birds Nest in Beijing, Fallingwater in PA,  Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, Lalibela in Ethiopia. They are beautiful in their own way.  Most architecture in US cities, towns, and suburbs, do not bother to make the effort.    

     The hike was quite difficult for me. I purchased over $1,000 in equipment from a hiking store. My instinct that this is a hobby for the economically privileged was confirmed.  Dr. Huang,  co-professor and experienced hiker was thorough on what we all needed. I packed a backpack that was 9 kg (19 lbs). I filled my water but not too much because I was nervous about carrying the weight. The first leg of the journey was walking along a flat but rocky riverbed. This seemed like a safe beginning. The mountain is massive and this walk begin to give me a sense of the scale. I looked up into the mountain to see if I could catch a glimpse of the settlement but I saw only trees and rocks. When we reached the end of the path to the beginning of the mountain, our group took a rest. I looked in both directions and could see no possible way forward. This was not the case, our guide with grace showed us how to navigate a series of rocks. I cannot confirm that it was with ease. I felt clumsy and awkward, but he helped us navigate the way safely. I can say that I survived un-scarred. The hike varied. I don’t know the technical terms, but there was rock climbing, walking along the edge of the cliffs with ropes on both sides, and paths made of stones that were nestled under trees. I imagined a time when Rukai people made these journeys with less manicured conditions carrying much heavier loads. I felt a consistent pinching in my right shoulder and was relieved anytime I could put down the backpack. I recently was advised to get a knee brace from a local physician, and I have had consistent metatarsal pain since running a half marathon last year. It’s likely that each of these ailments is linked from my body overcompensating in multiple directions. Being present also means being present with the pain which I have learned to ignore.

  The journey is an immediate connection with nature,  and I was aware that my actions had a very direct environmental impact. Our systems are convenient, but not necessarily environmental nor do they make you conscious of your consumption. When I produced waste, I had to find a way to store it. Human waste, water resources; I was hyper aware of everything. We were told we would not have access to shower but luckily our host gave us space to shower once we arrived. The shower was boiling hot water pot in a space with a cold water source. There was a bowl to combine them in the shower room. The water from the shower was piped from a nearby creek. Being conscious and aware of the systems that we take for granted is a step to beginning to understand how every action impacts the environment.

     I will unlikely take up recreational hiking. I admire the beauty of nature usually from a safe distance and return to indoor plumbing and my comfortable bed. This experience has created increased awareness, that it may take a little inconvenience (maybe even discomfort)  to create a more sustainable world. Leila and I are required to separate our food waste and learn the extensive recycling process when we moved to Taiwan. And while different and requiring an extra step, I think that composting food waste now feels natural. It was a at first inconvenient, but I think about the impact and the importance of connecting action to impact. The built environment is one of the greatest producers of waste, and I am certain there are ways that we can begin to divert and recycle waste in the construction process. When we reached the level walking path on our return, the group noticed waste everywhere. Someone had been at the site a night before and dumped trash along the riverbed. So after seven hours of hiking, they started collecting trash and began an impromptu waste clean up of the area. There actions spoke so highly about character, compassion toward nature, and approach to the environment. Next week, I will go into more detail about the Rukai Tribe, the challenges of the heritage conservation process and my thoughts about the site planning and architecture, but I felt that allowing space to discuss the process for arrival is critical to understanding the architecture.

Where was Leila?

     I have been plotting Leila’s childcare surrounding this hike for several months. While she went with me to Rinari Settlement at the base of the mountain, I felt the hike was too intense for her participate.  Many Rukai people mentioned children as young as 3 have completed the journey, but I know that with my own inexperience and her school schedule,  it would have been difficult for her to make the journey. I was very nervous about being away especially knowing that WiFi access in the mountain was inconsistent. There were times when I had very limited access. Between three babysitters, three friends, and coordination with one set of extra keys; Leila managed to have a good time. Everything that I am able to do as a working professional mom is enabled by a strong support system. I’m fortunate to be able to hire sitters and have friends that I trust to help me navigate my work schedule while my husband and I are in different cities. Since I don’t require a full time nanny, I have a more challenging time locating part time care.  So, I have managed to find several part time sitters that help me out from time to time. I am grateful for the women (the sitters and the friends) who enable me to do my job. I do not do it alone, and  I could not do it alone. I often reflect on Audre Lorde’s speech at a 1980’s conference when she criticized white women feminist scholars for having the privilege to attend a conference while mostly women of color looked after their children. I am a researcher and an architect and that is possible because I have a community of people that enable me to maintain my career. I also recognize that the ability to do this is a privilege. It was not included in my initial proposal, but being away from Leila had me often thinking of what it life was like for a Rukai mom.  I hope that in my future research on indigenous architecture that I can highlight not only the architecture but the understanding of the life and spatial perspective of the Rukai housing from the women’s perspective.  Indigenous architecture is not highlighted in the space of architectural history, and rarely is the experience of women addressed in architectural history.  As a mom that depends on other women for my career, I want to be sure contribute to and speak for women who have not had a historical voice – women whose experience has been erased.