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.