I once heard a friend say that his three-year-old child had only ever encountered water in their home’s bathtub. One day, when his parents took him to the seaside, the child, bewildered before the vast ocean, exclaimed, “Such a huge, huge water!”
For Tama* Tiang (Yang Cong-Yi), who lived in the mountains of Ren’ai Township, Nantou, until he was in the first grade, the only bodies of water he had seen were lakes. How could he have ever seen the sea? In the Bunun language, there isn’t even a word for “ocean,” only “lake” (ning-av). When he first encountered the sea, did he feel as perplexed as my friend’s child?
Today, we follow the 62-year-old Tama Tiang to the peak of Jialulan Mountain where the High Mountain tribe resides, at about 700 meters above sea level. This was once the home of Xiao Ma’s grandpa, Ma Dashan. The path we tread was the ancient trail he blazed, used by the High Mountain tribespeople when they journeyed to the Fuxing tribe for worship. (However, the route down to Fuxing is now lost.)
We reached an open platform planted with betel nut palms, where Tama Tiang sat and recalled more than fifty years ago. His mother received a letter from her sister, who had already moved to the High Mountain tribe, praising the fertile soil and proximity to both mountains and sea, saying, “If you want fish, go to the seaside; if you want mountain produce, hunt in the hills—there are many animals…”. Unhappy with life in Nantou at the time, Tama Tiang’s mother was enticed by her sister’s description, and they decided to move the entire family to the distant High Mountain tribe.
How did they travel from Nantou nearly half a century ago? “Back then, we took the ‘Golden Horse’ bus on the Cross-Island Highway from Lishan to Tianxiang, then to Hualien City, then transferred to a train to Fenglin, and took a tricycle to the riverbank. There was no bridge* yet, and I can’t recall if it was a Hakka or Han-operated boat that ferried us across the river to Shanxing. From there, we walked across the Coastal Mountain Range…” said Tama Tiang.
As the saying goes today, it was indeed a “kingdom far, far away”! The long journey with children must have been a desperate decision by the parents. Young Tama Tiang, not understanding much, only felt tired as he followed his parents to the mountaintop of the Coastal Mountain Range, witnessing the unimaginable sight (for a six-year-old).
Later, he gradually learned it was called the sea, and the white spray was called waves. While picking seaweed with the elders, he discovered the sea was salty. Over time, this group of Bunun settlers by the sea became known as “silaning-av”* (meaning those who live near the sea, originally “lake”). The term “sila” means edge or near, and “ning-av” originally referred to a lake, later evolving to mean the sea. They were referred to as “people living near the coast,” implying they did not originally reside by the sea.
As Tama Tiang’s understanding of the sea grew, so did his familiarity with the coastal Amis tribe. “The Amis later taught us spear fishing. We would snorkel and watch through masks how they caught fish, noticing they would hold onto rocks near the fish before spearing them. Once we learned, we stopped going to school and went fishing at the beach every day!” Children absorb and learn with their whole being. Quickly, this group of mountain Bunun adapted to the balance of pressure above and below the sea surface; their stomachs gradually accustomed to sea fish.
Aside from going to the sea, young Tama Tiang, even in elementary school, hunted with Xiao Ma’s father, who was more than ten years his senior. With over forty years of mountain and sea experiences, he has witnessed many changes over time.
We walked to a grove of bamboo. Tama Tiang reminisced, “There were so many animals here back then! At night, the headlamp would reveal many glowing eyes—those of flying squirrels, civets, muntjacs, and sambar deer; elders even spoke of encountering black bears and clouded leopards, although we never saw them. Now, there are far fewer animals, the forest is changing… In the past, standing knee-deep in seawater, there were plenty of fish around! Many lobsters in the caves, but now they’re gone too… The more elders’ stories we hear, the more we realize how much we’ve lost.”
What we have lost represents what we must preserve for future generations. It took nearly eighty years for the Coastal Bunun to transition from mountain to sea. Returning to the pure traditions of the past is no longer realistic. Instead of dwelling on the percentage reclaimed, they have learned to stand tall, carrying both the mountains’ essence in their blood and the keen eyes of a hunter, like Tama Tiang, while also bearing the sea’s saltiness on their skin, recognizing that after a few small waves, a big wave is sure to follow…
Living in this promised land, cared for by both mountains and sea, is a precious gift for these mountain-sea people.
(Note 1) Tama: In Bunun language, it means father, also a respectful term for paternal elders.
(Note 2) Likely referring to the Jianying Bridge over the Hualien River.
(Note 3) Uncle Tiang mentioned a wooden boat, but other elders said it was a bamboo raft.
(Note 4) Pronounced [silanin’av].
*This article was published in PULIMA LINK By: Ouyang Mengzhi.
Mina Ou-Yang (minaoy@gmail.com ). A non-native of Hualien, I am a freelance worker who moved here, drawn by the allure of the grand mountains, vast oceans, trees, and whales. If I could sow seeds with my words along the thorny paths of gender, age, culture, and environment, I believe I could lived happily ever after.
