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Reflection on Taiwan-Philippines Knowledge Exchange

Date: 2021-05-10

New at Work


In early 2020, I was a fresh graduate searching for a job at Science and Technology Innovation Center for Taiwan-Philippines Indigenous Knowledge, Local Knowledge, and Sustainable Studies (CTPILS), where I was kindly given a positon.

 

From the project proposal of the Center, I learned that CTPILS’s mission was to facilitate transnational indigenous and local knowledge comparative studies through the collaboration of international institutes. CTPILS also aimed to achieve the aforementioned goal from three research aspects: cultural ecology, social development, and regional governance. All was new to me as someone who had just entered the academic realm, but with half-knowledge, I carried on my stumbling assistant career.

 

Even though I was new at work, Executive Director Da-Wei Kuan told me to work with other more experienced assistants to organize the main event in 2020—an international summer archaeological field course, open to students from National Chengchi University (NCCU) and University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA). The course was to take place in Sqoyaw Community, Taichung, Taiwan for two weeks. The faculty included Kuan and UCLA Professor Stephen Acabado. Marlon Martin, COO of Save the Ifugao Terraces Movement (SITMo) and local women weavers would be invited as lecturers.

 

In the past, indigenous studies in Taiwan followed the example of countries like the US, Australia, New Zealand, and Canada, overlooking the fact that the Philippines and Taiwan shared similar geographical characteristics, and that it was also facing indigenous decolonization. Consequently, in 2018, Kuan took students on field research to Ifugao, the Philippines. In 2019, he held a Taiwan-US-Philippines workshop and invited partners in the Philippines for an exchange visit to Sqoyaw Community, including the president and vice president of Ifugao State University (IFSU), scholars of Philippine indigenous cultures, Marlon Martin, and local women weavers. The purpose was to lay the ground for comparative archaeological studies between Taiwan and the Philippines.

 

I found a sense of accomplishment during the preparation, for example, writing the proposal, planning the budget, designing the poster for course promotion, assessing the candidates for teaching assistants, and selecting students. It was the most exhilarating seeing the course attract broad participation. All the hard work was worth it when there were so many people interested in the field.

 

Admission Seminar

Pic 1: Admission Seminar

 

 

Strike of the Pandemic


The best-laid plans go astray, taking people by surprise.

 

The outbreak of COVID-19 in Wuhan spread relentlessly across the world, interrupting what the Center had planned. As strict border control was imposed, teachers and students from aboard would have to complete 14 days of quarantine, on top of bearing the risk of getting infected during the flight. It was as if we were choked by the pandemic, unable to move any forward. All projects came to a halt.

 

The international course was not the only thing affected by the crisis. The Center had also intended to arrange bilateral visits for residents of Sqoyaw Community and Ifugao, as well as to provide internship opportunities in the Philippines for NCCU students. Despite our wish for the pandemic to slow down before summer, deep down we knew there would be little chance for foreigners to come to Taiwan. After back-and-forth discussions, we decided to work on backup plans. How could we make progress towards the original goal? Should we continue with the plans by changing their form? How would we promote international exchange with COVID-19 holding us back?

 

The coronavirus might be the only reason we reluctantly looked for plan B, but we accidentally discovered more ways to connect with the world.

 

We hoped to continue to provide a platform for domestic and foreign researchers to communicate, and to raise awareness about indigenous and local issues. Therefore, we turned to webinars, with an aim to hold steady in this difficult time.

 

 

Learning from Experience


The one that set the ball rolling was a ten-week webinar series, “Engaged Scholarship in the Asia Pacific,” held by Stephen Acabado and his team of assistants. Since foreign academics didn’t have to come to Taiwan in person, they had a more flexible schedule to participate, and we could dispense with receiving and accommodating them. Supposedly, holding a webinar was to be easier than physical seminars, yet what we didn’t realize was that it was the start of another battle.

 

The first challenge was choosing the right platform from a wide variety of video conferencing software. We combed through internet reviews in search of one that was low-cost, easy to operate, and stable. Even those with the highest overall rating were not necessarily the best ones. The safest way was to install and actually try out the platforms. After careful selection of the software, we still had to worry about whether our hardware could support complex functions such as video conferencing, live streaming, slide presentation, and online communication with domestic and foreign speakers, all at the same time. If anything went wrong on the actual days, the webinars could spiral into a complete disaster. We had to prepare for the worst to prevent our efforts from going down the drain. 

 

Every now and then during the preparation, I felt bewildered, even wondering whether the seminar series could really help us towards our goal. CTPILS, unlike other overseas centers, concentrated on human sciences, so I’d always felt empty inside when we had to present our results with quantitative data. Were the numerous seminars a step forward, or were they the byproduct of catering to the established system? I had questioned myself and even the Center countless times. How could I help? What had the Center achieved in three years? A lot of times we could not see the outcome immediately, so it was hard to tell if we were laboring over nothing. Bearing that in mind, I stayed busy as I went on worrying about where I stood and even where the Center stood.

 

 

Silencing under the Digital Divide


Just when we thought we had everything in place, we realized that things could go wrong despite our best efforts. The webinar series adopted the format of a question-and-answer session, which was a conversation between the host and panelists. There was one panelist with unstable internet connection who finally rejoined the webinar after a few dozen minutes, happy to announce that everything was back on track.

 

Panelist: Hello everyone! I AM BACK! Can you hear me?
Host: Great! Let’s welcome (name of the panelist)!
Panelist: ……

 

The internet collapsed on the panelist’s side again abruptly. All we could hear was an awkward silence.

 

Fortunately, the host was calm enough to ease the awkwardness. We as assistants were agitated over our impotence, yet couldn’t help but laugh about the somewhat absurd situation. We never got to hear from the panelist throughout the entire webinar. Reflecting back later with Professor Kuan, we all agreed that we had to ensure smooth connection on the scholars’ side. On that note, Kuan sighed,

 

“Webinars boast to connect people from all over the world, but are they also excluding those lack of internet resources?”

His words shook me.

 

During the preparation, I had been accustomed to thinking from an assistant’s perspective. My priority was for the webinars to run smoothly, but I didn’t put much thought into the flip side of the internet era. Perhaps it had always been the haves who believed the internet could foster “unbounded” knowledge exchange. I couldn’t help but think: Were webinars shunning the voices of people in marginalized areas? Even the language used in webinars, English, was inadvertently filtering out some participants. A webinar recreated ability grouping in education; only elites could stand on top of the pyramid. The more I ruminated, the more it strengthened my perception of seminars: Mount Olympus, where gods discussed human affairs, a palace of knowledge unreachable for common people. 

 

However, was that really the case? I had never been so uncertain.

 

Screenshot of the seventh webinar (not the one mentioned in the article)

Pic 2: Screenshot of the seventh webinar (not the one mentioned in the article)

 

 

Empowered to Change the Historical Narrative


“Engaged Scholarship in the Asia Pacific” reexamined the power dynamics in fieldwork. As more and more studies adopted the field research method, we should be more sensitive to the results. We should contemplate on ways to regain the researcher’s initiate, provide more than the researcher’s subjective opinion, and engage the participants. The webinars made me realize that academic knowledge could go beyond the academic circle. Webinars might have a hidden selection mechanism, but it could also drive empowerment.

 

Sayun Simung from Sqoyaw Community was one of the guest speakers in the webinar series. She left her community for study, and lived in Taipei for eight years before going back to find her root. She aspired to debunk the Han-centric narrative of her home’s history through her documentaries. She asked the audience to bear with her poor command of English, but her passion shone through. I was touched by her desire to give back to her community. I had been obsessed with whether the Center could make a contribution, yet I shouldn’t be so fixated on the Center’s position. By doing my part with mindfulness, I could learn more along the way.

 

CTPILS was blessed to take part in the root-searching journey of people from Sqoyaw Community. Although the 2020 field course did not happen, everything turned out to be perfect while we communicate with the indigenous community.

 

Asking for permission from the indigenous elders

Pic 3: Asking for permission from the indigenous elders

 

Group photo of the archeological workshop in Sqoyaw Community
Pic 4: Group photo of the archeological workshop in Sqoyaw Community

 

We had extended time to confirm the community’s willingness to collaborate, and to ask for and listen to advice from the indigenous elders. In this year’s archaeological workshop in Sqoyaw Community, other than listening to the elders share the community’s migration history in Atayal language and Mandarin, we had the honor to visit where their ancestors used to live. The indigenous people admired their ancestors’ wisdom of irrigation when they saw some of the stone remains. While we were out of breath climbing the mountains, the elders were leaping through the forest like antelopes. When the elders told us that their ancestors went from one mountain to another during their resistance against the Japanese, I was impressed with their agility and inspired by their courage and vigor.

 

Mountain climbing and root searching with the indigenous people

Pic 5: Mountain climbing and root searching with the indigenous people

 

An unnerving episode occurred during the expedition. It had been a decade since the elders’ last mountain climb, so they spent longer time navigating the correct route. When the sky darkened, they suggested splitting up. Yet when we eventually gave up and decided to try again next time, two of the elders had not returned. Worried sick, we kept calling them, tying knots around trees on our way back, and hoping they came home safe and sound. Fortunately, both of them did. Their granddaughters were finally relieved, but started nagging them, though the love and concern were indisputable.

 

The bond between the grandfathers and grandchildren, and the indigenous elders’ longing to take their descendants travel mountains and valleys in search of their history, helped me understand that not only could knowledge be preached, taught, learned, but it could also be put into practice.

 

 

Young Generation Stands Out


Professor Kuan proposed an idea for the second half of the year, “Is it possible that we organize a forum for young scholars to address research issues pertinent to indigenous people in Taiwan and the Philippines?” He wanted to provide a less formal platform for young scholars instead of focusing on only distinguished scholars.

 

For this new activity, the Center’s Filipino assistants whose job was to study Philipine local knowledge were in charge of the preparation. They came up with the theme of “meryenda,” which meant refreshment between main meals, similar to afternoon tea. In the Philippines, a host would invite guests to enjoy food and drinks during meryenda time and catch up with each other. Our forum was entitled “Meryenda at NCCU: When Filipino Biko meets Taiwanese Cinavu.” The idea was to facilitate cultural exchange between young scholars from both sides by comparing Taiwanese and Philippine cuisine.

 

Attending Filipino students enjoying snacks at the forum

Pic 6: Attending Filipino students enjoying snacks at the forum

 

Group photo

Pic 7: Group photo

 

On the day of the event, we served various popular snacks in the Philippines, such Biko, Turon, Puto, and Sapin-Sapin, as well as Rukai’s and Paiwan’s cinavu and Taiwanese street food, douhua (tofu pudding). In contrast to serious seminars, the atmosphere was light and joyful, yet people were still able to share their studies. We received a lot of feedback afterwards The young scholars were eager to attend more activities like this. Hopefully, such forum can someday be expanded to a forum for young Taiwanese and Filipino scholars to present their research. We can even go further and build an academic community that serve as a focal point for Taiwanese and Filipino indigenous studies.

 

 

Coming Up Roses


What can we do? Honestly, I don’t have the answer.

 

I know for a fact that there aren’t many scholars in indigenous studies. Perhaps we can ignite a spark by devoting ourselves to research.

 

I know for a fact that indigenous people are still suffering from discrimination, stereotypes, and stigmatization. Perhaps we can raise awareness by posting on the Center’s Facebook fan page and organizing more activities.

 

I know for a fact that the partnership CTPILS has built in the past three years will last even after the STIC project ends. My hope for myself is to continue my career path with introspection. I will constantly remind myself to be in awe of nature, humble before knowledge, and grateful for what I have.

 

 

Acknowledgements


I’d like to thank CTPILS’s domestic and foreign partners, NCCU Department of Ethnology, NCCU Center for Southeast Asian Studies, NCCU Master’s Program of Land Policy and Environmental Planning for Indigenous Peoples, IFSU, SITMo, University of Hawaii at Manoa, UCLA, all those who lent a hand, and everyone doing their part to help. Without you, the events never would have gone so smoothly. I’d also like to extend my gratitude to Professor Chih-hua Chiang from Department of Anthropology, National Taiwan University for assisting with the archeology project in Sqoyaw Community. I must also thank the Sqoyaw Community for embracing us, and including us in your root-searching journey. Special thanks to Executive Director Da-Wei Kuan for providing me an opportunity to learn. Even with your prestige you choose to learn from other people with an open mind, and discuss issues with us. You inspire us to be humble before knowledge. Your reflective mindset enlightens me face future challenges with the same approach.

 

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