I mentioned earlier that people in Taiwan are cheerful and kind, and this turned out to be exactly as I had imagined. I think that image was shaped more by my Taiwanese colleague, Ms. C, than by what I saw on TV or in magazines.
She graduated from a design school in Japan, and after that we started working together; she was the kind of person who could brighten up the atmosphere wherever she went. Even back in Taiwan, Ms. C was a fan of the singer Saijo Hideki, who passed away last year. Even after coming to Japan, her enthusiasm remained unchanged—she would still shout, “Hideki!!” With the thought, “People from Taiwan really are as cheerful as she is,” I traveled around the island.
In contrast to the cheerfulness of the people, Taiwan has gone through a complex history. Up until now, I’ve broadly categorized people as either indigenous Taiwanese or “Han Chinese,” but that’s because the situation regarding Han Chinese—that is, people from mainland China—is quite complicated.
When discussing Taiwan, the terms “local Taiwanese” and “mainlanders” inevitably come up. People who settled in Taiwan before World War II are called “local Taiwanese,” while those who fled to Taiwan after the war alongside Chiang Kai-shek’s Kuomintang following their defeat in the civil war are called “mainlanders.”
This much is easy to understand, but even among the “local Taiwanese,” there are clear distinctions based on place of origin—such as Fujian or Guangdong—differences in dialect, and whether or not they have registered residency on the mainland. Both they and those around them have a strong sense of identity regarding their background and roots. Since the “mainlanders” also come from a wide range of regions on the mainland, they likely share this same sense of identity to some extent. In Taiwan, people who are all Chinese live together, yet they have different backgrounds and values.
Until not too long ago, there was a saying in Taiwan: “Once the dogs were gone, the pigs came.” This was a phrase used by local Taiwanese to mock the Japanese and mainlanders, implying, “Just when we thought those meddlesome people were gone, a bunch of greedy folks came to devour everything.” In other words, it meant, “As soon as Japanese rule ended and things settled down, people fleeing the mainland started scrambling for privileges.” Perhaps it also carried a hint of the sentiment, “Things were better back under Japanese rule.”
The Kuomintang government had been in power in Taiwan for a long time. The “mainlanders,” who made up about 15% of the population, were at the center of Taiwan’s politics and economy. This later gave rise to the political dynamic between the Kuomintang and the Democratic Progressive Party. Although we don’t see it much these days, I used to watch on TV news as Taiwanese legislators would get into physical fights right on the floor of the legislature. That’s how strongly these divisions were felt.
People don’t usually pay much attention to whether someone is a “local” or an “outsider,” but when it comes to elections, things seem to change. In specific regions where people from the same hometown have lived for generations, candidates reportedly focus less on policies and more on repeatedly mentioning the hometowns of their fathers and grandfathers. Perhaps they’re appealing to a sense of camaraderie based on their roots.
I’ve often seen Chinatowns in North America and the UK, where Chinese people—known as overseas Chinese—gather in one area. Many of these overseas Chinese are from Taiwan, but it seems that a sense of kinship and shared hometown unites them with people from mainland China and Hong Kong as well.
In New York, I was staying with the older sister of Ms. C and her husband. The couple had immigrated from Taiwan and ran a laundry business. Besides me, there were already two other “senior” lodgers (?), and I shared a room with them, living and sleeping together. The two were chefs at a Chinese restaurant, and the husband had provided them with a room because they were fellow countrymen. Even within Chinatown, people from the same hometown form even smaller communities. People who have come to a foreign land in search of a new life help one another—and if they’re from the same hometown, all the more so.
前に台湾の皆さんは、明るく親切に接してくれると記しましたが、これは私のイメージ通りでした。そのイメージというのはテレビの映像や雑誌からの受けるもの以上に同僚だった台湾人Ｃさんによるところが大きいように思います。
彼女は日本のデザイン学校を卒業し、その後職場で一緒に仕事をするようになったのですが、とにかく周りの雰囲気を明るくするキャラクターの持ち主でした。そんなＣさんは、台湾にいた頃から去年亡くった歌手の西城秀樹さんのファンでした。日本に来てからも「秀樹ーッ!!」と、そのファンぶりは変わっていませんでした。［台湾の人ってやっぱ彼女みたいに明るいね］そんな思いで台湾を回っていたのです。
人々の明るさと対照的に台湾は複雑な時代を経過してきました。ここまで台湾原住民に対して大雑把にその他の漢人というくくりで話してきましたが、それは漢人つまり中国人が色々とヤヤコシイからです。
台湾を語る時に必ず本省人、外省人という言葉が出てきます。大戦前から台湾に移り住んでいた人たちを本省人、大戦後の内戦に敗れ蒋介石率いる国民党と一緒に台湾へ渡ってきた人たちを外省人と分けて呼びます。ここまでは分かりやすいのですが、同じ本省人でも福建、広東など出身地別、話す言葉の違い、また本土に本籍の有無など、出身や自身のルーツに関して周りも本人も特別な意識を持っています。外省人も本土の広範囲な地域の出身ですから多かれ少なかれ同じ意識があるはずです。台湾では同じ中国人でも異なる背景や価値観を持つ人たちが暮らしているのです。
台湾ではひと昔前まで「犬がいなくなったら、豚が来た」と言われていました。これは「何かと口やかましい奴らがいなくなったと思ったら今度は何でもむさぼり食う連中がやって来た」という、本省人が日本人や外省人を揶揄した言葉です。つまり「日本の統治が終わってホットしたら今度は大陸から逃げてきた連中が利権をあさり始めた」ということです。「まだ日本の統治の頃の方がましだ」そんな気持ちも少し込められているのかも知れません。
台湾では長いこと国民党政府が続いていました。人口比率15％ほどの外省人が台湾の政治や経済の中心にいたのです。これは後に国民党に対して民進党という構図を生み出します。最近ではお目にかかりませんが、以前テレビのニュースで台湾の国会議員が議場で取っ組み合いのケンカをする姿を見ていました。あれほど強く意識していたということでしょう。
普段はあまり本省人や外省人を意識しないようですが、こと選挙となると変わるようです。先祖の代から同郷の人たちが住む特定の地域では候補者たちは政策そっち抜けでの父親や祖父の出身地を連呼するそうです。自分のルーツで仲間意識に訴えるということでしょうか。
私は北米やイギリスで、中国人つまり華僑と呼ばれる人たちが一つの地域でまとまるチャイナ・タウンをよく見てきました。彼ら華僑の多くは台湾出身ですが、大陸や香港からの人たちも同胞、同郷という意識が一つにまとめているようです。
私はニューヨークではＣさんの姉さん夫婦宅で居候させてもらっていました。ご夫婦は台湾から移住して洗濯屋を営んでいたのです。私のほかにもすでに二人の先輩居候(？)がいて、彼らと同じ部屋で寝起きをともにしていました。二人は中華レストランのコックですが、ご主人は同郷の二人に部屋を提供していたのです。チャイナ・タウンの中でも同郷人たちがさらに小さなコミュニティを作っているのです。異国に新天地を求めてやって来た者どうし助け合う、同郷であればなおさらということです。
My Life with Bicycles 