Monga, the indigenous name of the Wanhua District in Southwestern Taipei, Taiwan, stands today as the earliest developed area in all of metro Taipei; indeed, during the Qing Dynasty (1644-1912), there was a proverb that roughly translates as: "First Tainan (in southern Taiwan), second Lu Gang (in central Taiwan) and third Monga," listing the three most commercially bustling and flourishing ports of that era.
During the Japanese colonial era (1895-1945), Monga was renamed Bangka due to the similar pronunciations of this location's name in both Japanese and Southern Min, a Chinese dialect. In 1990, the district was officially named Wanhua, literally, "eternal prosperity."
Last February, with the release of the movie Monga, early 80s Taipei – a tumultuous time, when Martial Law was abolished and democracy began flourishing in earnest – was stunningly depicted on the big screen. The film was a smashing success, garnering NT$25.8 million ($898,642) in box-office receipts, and winning its male protagonist Ethan Ruan the Best Actor award in the 47th Taipei Golden Horse Film Festival. In addition, Monga picked up the Best Music and Best Artistic Direction awards at the 54th Asia Pacific Film Festival, as well as the Telia Film Award at the 21st Stockholm International Film Festival.
This film was not released in the Chinese mainland, allegedly because of its violence, according to Yang Yi, a spokesman of the Taiwan Affairs Office.
However, out of curiosity and interest, quite a few mainlanders have watched it to better understand Taiwanese culture.
As a Wanhua native, I naturally cast an especially critical eye over the movie's depiction of my birthplace. I returned recently after a long stretch away, both to investigate the film's impact on the real-life inhabitants of Wanhua, and also to rediscover the vibrancy of this now much-forgotten region.
Peeling off the layers of history
Many scenes in Monga were shot on Bopiliao Old Street, a name that literally means "peeling off the skin," also one of the few roads in the Wanhua District that still maintains its original Qing Dynasty architecture.
"The earliest history of this street can be traced back to 1895," said Chang Chin-Peng, director of the Heritage and Culture Education Center of Taipei. "In 1908, the Japanese started a vast urban planning initiative, rerouting part of Bopiliao Old Street to the location of an elementary school," he explained.
He mentioned three possible explanations for the street's eerie, somewhat morbid name: that the street was historically used for either peeling animal skins or tree bark, or that it simply fell victim to the nuances of shifting pronunciation – an explanation that he cited as the most plausible.
"After seeing its original name in old Taiwanese taken through so many transformations, first into Japanese and then Putonghua, it probably simply took on this current name by accident," he said.
Historically, the street's main draw was as a commercial center, and vintage shops still stand in two well-preserved rows. Each building contains a sort of arcade in front, providing a passageway for passersby, as well as protecting the main edifice from wind and rain. The arcades' design is a truly unique accomplishment in the world of East Asian architecture, with the partially embedded corbel bricks being used to support the eaves and each household using a beam, made from round China fir, protruding from the top of the front pillar to connect the houses to one another.
"Moreover, due to different construction times and various instances of remodeling, the materials for decorating the front of each building differ vastly and include bricks, washed terrazzo and cement," said He Li-hsuo, a 63-year-old community preservation volunteer who's lived in Wanhua for half a century. "All this dynamism explicitly demonstrates the vicissitudes of history."
Not to be missed
Community advocates mention 11 sites as especially representative of old Bopiliao: Yongxing Tin, Xiuying Tea Shop, Weiling Altar, Rixiang Inn, Sun Binding Shop, Changshou Tea Shop, Ganzai Shop, Song Xiexin Rice Shop, Fengxiang Bath House, Chang Tai-Yan's Residence in Taiwan and Dr. Asho Ro's House.
In He's opinion, Yongxin Ting is in particular not to be missed. The old headquarters of a Qing Dynasty-era construction-materials trading company, Yongxin Ting still embodies the grandeur of its era, when ships passing between Taiwan and the modern-day Fujian Province cities of Fuzhou, Quanzhou, Zhangzhou and Xiamen were the height of technical innovation in commercial trade.
Another cultural attraction is the old residence of Chang Tai-Yan. In 1898, Chang, a sinologist originally from the Chinese mainland, took refuge in Taiwan after the failure of Hundred Days Reform. (1898) During his six-month stay here, Chang temporarily dwelled on Bopiliao, moonlighting as a columnist for the Taiwan Daily News. This building, which embodies the excitement of his tumultuous life, was designated a historical site by the Taipei City Government in 2003.
"Bopiliao Old Street is historically important for several other reasons, including the fact that it served as the main route toward Central Taipei in classical times and that it housed an important military base during the Qing Dynasty," Chang said.
Blessing and a curse
My visit to Bopiliao coincided with a number of art and design exhibits put on by graduating seniors of local universities, all featuring miniature models of the buildings in the area. Taking a bird's eye view of the street like this shows all the contrasting and contradictory elements at work in the architecture, giving a different perspective from the more ground-level, microscopic view you get from the street.
The release of Monga has led to an influx in visitors, a development that Chang said the community hopes to capitalize upon with more exhibits on the history and development of the street.
"For example, we recently held an exhibit on modern medical development in Taiwan, which was introduced to the island by Scottish missionary James L. Maxwell at the end of the 19th century," he said. "Later, the Japanese colonial period codified modern medical education into our university system."
Chang also led me to another exhibit on Taiwanese educational history.
"All formal educational institutions in Taiwan were shuttered during the Japanese occupation," he explained. "Only private schools could teach Chinese and preserve traditional culture – the Japanese implemented their own system, which was a blessing and a curse, as it helped modernize our educational system but indeed stripped away some of the more unique traditional elements."
Searching for guidance
Wanhua District also houses Lungshan Temple, one of the three most significant historical sites in all of Taiwan, the other two being the National Palace Museum and the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall. The temple, a masterpiece of traditional Chinese architecture and still a practicing Buddhist monastery, was granted official historical preservation status in 1985.
The temple took its name from another, far more ancient temple in Jinjiang, Fujian Province that dates back to 618 BC. In 1738, mainland immigrants erected the Wanhua Lungshan Temple as a satellite temple of the original. One female volunteer who escorted me around said that Lungshan Temple has since become a beacon of devotion for worshippers of all ages and backgrounds, from all over the world.
A retired Taiwanese couple I met there, James Lin and Michelle Chan, told me they've been visiting the temple once a week for 10 years.
"Every time we come, we are always so blown away by how many foreigners we see worshipping and performing the incense rites just like us – mostly Japanese, but often hailing from other countries as well," Lin said.
Over the course of our conversation, Lin revealed an interesting bit of Lungshan trivia: during World War II, American soldiers mistakenly believed it to be the office of a Japanese viceroy and bombed the main hall and part of the right annex.
"Thankfully, the most important religious symbol in the temple – the statue of Guanyin, the Goddess of Mercy – remained intact," he said.
Chen told me that her personal favorite effigies are the statues of the Emperor Wenchang, the God of Wisdom, and Yuexialaoren, the God of Love.
"Students often come to offer white turnips and green onions to Wenchang, while young lovers definitely look to Yuexialaoren for guidance," she said.