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Khóo Tsú-song Mansion (許梓桑古厝)

Over the past few months I’ve spent quite a bit of time either in or around Taiwan’s northern port city of Keelung, one of my favorite places to visit. While some might argue that it’s an old, uninteresting city that is constantly raining, I tend to see it in a different light as these things are part of its romantic charm.

Walking around Keelung never fails to be a rewarding experience, and you can learn much about Taiwan’s history while exploring the city. This is especially true in recent years as the city has invested quite a bit in its history, with the restoration of a number of historic buildings that have been reopened as cultural attractions.

With historic attractions spanning from Dutch and Spanish Formosa, the Qing Dynasty, the Japanese-era and the post-war period, a visit to Keelung puts travelers in a unique position to be learn about places of interest that span a wide variety of Taiwan’s history.

With so many historic buildings being restored and re-opening as cultural attractions, especially those from the Japanese-era, I have a long list of places to visit, as well as a long list of places that I need to write about. So, I’ll happily be spending a considerable amount of time exploring the city over the next few years as it seems like there is always something new to see and do in Keelung!

Today, I’ll be introducing an historic Japanese-era mansion that sits atop a hill within the downtown core of the city. While it has received a bit of attention in recent years, the long abandoned mansion, once home to a prolific local political figure, lays ruined as decades of abandonment have been rather unkind. While only a short walk from the city’s popular night market, the mansion remains somewhat obscure and is surprisingly only popular among those interested in history or urban exploration, like myself.

Unfortunately, even though the Keelung City Government has invested a considerable amount of public funds restoring historic buildings within the city, it doesn’t seem like this beautiful old mansion is on the list of properties to restore. There are of course a number of reasons for this, which I’ll detail below.

Thankfully, local civic groups have taken an interest in its upkeep, and have striven to clean it up and maintain the grounds until the time comes when it can receive some official attention.

Until recently there has been very little coverage about the mansion in the English language, save for an excellent article by my friend at Spectral Codex, I figured it was about time to provide my own take on the mansion and its history. I highly recommend anyone reading this to take some time to read his piece on the mansion as he’s a much more thoughtful writer than I am.

Link: Khoo Tsu-song Old House 許梓桑古厝 (Spectral Codex)

Before I start introducing the mansion, I think it’s important to first offer a brief profile of the prolific figure who lived in it, so that you can better understand its historical significance.

Khóo Tsú-song (許梓桑)

Walking nearby the historic mansion today, you’ll find one of the typical brown road signs that indicates a cultural or historic attraction. The sign reads, “Xu, Zi-Sang Historical Home (許梓桑古厝).”

Likely to confuse most foreign tourists, the name “Xu Zi-Sang” is the pinyin romanization of “Khóo Tsú-song,” who arguably happens to be one of the most prolific Taiwanese-born figures in Keelung’s modern history, known locally by another name: the First Person of Keelung (基隆第一人).

Why they chose to go with the pinyin romanization rather than using the Taiwanese-Hokkien pronunciation is a head-scratcher - it’s certainly not how anyone would have addressed him while he was alive.

Born in Keelung in 1874 (同治13年), Khóo was brought up by his mother, who was widowed when he was quite young. The heir to the Khóo family and its fortune, as a young child he was afforded the opportunity of receiving a private education, at a time when a formal education was a rare thing in Taiwan.

Preparing for years to take the Civil Service Exam (科舉), Khóo was highly regarded for his literary prowess, especially when it came to poetry. Suffice to say, by the time he was prepared to take the exam, China found itself at war with Japan, resulting in an embarrassing defeat, and the loss of Taiwan in the process.

When Japanese forces arrived in Keelung to take control of the island, many of Khóo’s intellectual contemporaries, couldn’t accept being ruled by a foreign power, so they hopped boats with other Qing officials and left the island. The reality of Khóo’s situation however was a bit more complicated. As the twenty-one year old head of his clan, it would have been difficult for him to abandon his family, their fortune and their land holdings here in Taiwan.

So, instead of becoming a refugee from his place of birth, he made the decision to instead work with the incoming regime as the Japanese authorities sought out local scholars to work together to assist in stabilizing the political vacuum left by the outgoing regime.

This is where opinions on the man diverge as some would point their fingers and call him a traitor, while others would laud the great contributions he made over a life as a public servant - No matter what political side you take, it would be an understatement to say that Khóo’s legacy continues to reverberate in the city today, and his efforts to maintain local cultural traditions have ensured that we are still able to celebrate those traditions today.

Starting his career as a public servant at the age of twenty-one, Khóo assisted in the effort to maintain social order with the income regime, and was quickly appointed as an official in the Keelung City Office (基隆街庄長事務所書記). Keeping in mind that the Japanese used the port city as a staging point for their armed forces to make their way further inland, it was of the utmost importance that Keelung remained stable, and Khóo played an important role in ensuring that the transition went smoothly.

Having been afforded a private education while growing up, Khóo took it upon himself to adapt to the new reality by establishing a Japanese-language school (國語訓練班) for locals, and hired a private tutor to accelerate his own learning process. For his efforts, in 1901 (明治34年) he was awarded a ‘blue-ribbon’ award (藍綬紳章) by the Governor General, a highly prestigious award for someone of his youth.

Amazingly, in 1903 (明治36) at the age of twenty-nine, Khóo was appointed to a position that was essentially mayor of Keelung (基隆街庄長), and as time went by his career continued to advance as the mayor of Keelung District (基隆區長), and as congressperson of Taipei Prefecture (臺北州協議會員), receiving numerous commendations from the Governors Office in Taipei throughout his career.

Still, it’s important to keep in mind that apart from his career in public service, Khóo remained in his role as chief of the Khóo clan, as well as a prominent member of society making time to take part in local literary societies as well as serving as head of one of Keelung’s most important places of worship.

As one of the administrators of Keelung’s Qing-an Temple (慶安宮), Khóo’s influence ensured that the temple’s Mid-summer Ghost Festival remained the most prominent religious celebration in the city throughout the colonial era. Thanks to his political power, the scale of festival was larger than any of the other local religious festivals, especially those held by the local Shinto Shrines. This is one of the areas where Khóo’s influence continues to reverberate today as the annual Ghost Month celebrations in Keelung continue to be one of the busiest times of the year in the city, steeped in tradition that goes back hundreds of years.

Note: If you find yourself visiting Keelung checking out the mansion and the night market, I can’t recommend enough that you also stop by the beautiful Qing-an Temple, one of the prettiest and most historic places of worship in the city, dating back to 1780 and is one of the three most important temples in Keelung (基隆三大廟).

Interestingly, despite all of his achievements, little is known about his personal life, and even though he constructed a giant mansion for himself in the middle of the city, much of his prominence came crashing to the ground when the Japanese were forced to surrender Taiwan at the end of the Second World War.

Given the atrocities that took place when the Chinese Nationalists took control of Taiwan in the post-war era, its safe to say that Khóo saved himself quite a bit of misery by instead passing away at the at the age of seventy-one that same year.

Despite all of his achievements, his collaboration with the Japanese throughout his career would have landed him in a precarious situation with the nationalists and he would have likely ended up being just another one of the nameless faces floating face up at the port of Keelung.

In retrospect, one could argue that even though he worked with the Japanese to advance his career, he spent a considerable amount of time and effort working to preserve Taiwanese culture and traditions at a time when things like this were frowned upon - and given the era for which he lived, the architectural design of his mansion is arguably a pretty good indicator of what kind of man he was.

Qìngyú Hall (慶餘堂)

Growing up in what we’d consider prime real estate within Keelung, the Khóo family constructed their family home in what was known during the Qing Dynasty as ‘Hsintien town’ (新店街), stretching from the harbor front and encompassing much of the city’s historic economic district. Home to three of the city’s most important places of worship, Dianji Temple (奠濟宮), Qing’an Temple (慶安宮), and the City God Temple (城隍廟) as well as the Kanziding Fish Market (崁仔頂魚市), it would have been the most important section of town prior to the city’s expansion during the Japanese-era.

Within a few short years of the Japanese occupation, the colonial government proposed some pretty ambitious urban renewal and development plans (市區改正) for many of Taiwan’s major towns and cities. In the early 1900s, planning for Keelung was finalized, and with Khóo at the helm, the government went ahead with some unpopular land-expropriation initiatives. Little is written on the subject, but I can imagine that official messaging on the touchy subject went over a little smoother when citizens realized that not even the Khóo’s family home would be spared in the process.

Link: 臺灣日治時期都市計畫 (Wiki)

Having little to no public works in the city, the renewal plans essentially re-shaped Keelung and modernized it by improving roads, adding an electricity grid, and constructing public works that took care of sanitation and sewage as well as offering citizens access to clean running water for the first time.

In 1909 (明知42年), the family moved to a new home where they would live for the next two decades. It was in this home that Khóo famously held his poetry and literature society meetings, promoting Chinese classics and Taiwanese literature.

At the age of 57, close to retirement, Khóo had a new mansion built for his family on a nearby hill, nicknamed by locals as “Major-General’s Mountain” (少將腳), given that it was also home to one of the Japanese forces commanders in Keelung.

Note: It’s reported that when was asked why he constructed his mansion on the hill, he remarked that in his golden years that he hoped for peace and quiet and a house constantly full of visitors couldn’t really achieve that. Basically he wasn’t just retiring from a life as a civil servant, but also as a public figure.

Completed in 1931 (昭和6年), the Khóo family mansion was officially named ‘Qìngyú Hall’ (慶餘堂), a pretty common title for traditional residences, hailing from an ancient Chinese idiom about ‘longevity’ and ‘greatness’ (積善之家,必有餘慶). In this specific case however, I find the name of the mansion interesting given Khóo’s background as an administrator at the nearby Qing-an Temple (慶安宮), which shares the same first Chinese character as the name he chose for his mansion. Coincidence? Possibly.

While technically located within the same area of the city as the family’s original residence, this time the mansion was constructed on a hill overlooking the commercial district and the port. With other well-off neighbors, the hill would have been a nice spot to live with great views of the hustle and bustle of the city.

That being said, the family were only able to live in the mansion for about a decade until the Second World War brought with it allied bombing campaigns and Keelung one of the most important targets. For their own protection, the family moved to another location on what they thought would be a temporary basis, however even though the mansion escape destruction, Khóo Tsú-song never returned.

Passing away just as the war ended, the mansion became home to several families of Chinese refugees who illegally squatted in the building for quite a while, and as time passed by, the ownership rights of the family seems to have deteriorated, and weren’t recognized by the new government. While it is not entirely supported by evidence, there are claims that the ownership rights of the family were disregarded by authoritarian government of the time as Khóo was considered a ‘collaborator’ with the Japanese Colonial Government and was a traitor, despite his legacy being one that is fondly remembered by locals. Nevertheless, the continued confusion as to the status of the mansion’s ownership is one of the main reasons why the Keelung City Government has been powerless to have the site fixed up.

When the mansion was ultimately abandoned is unclear, but it’s been empty for decades and the years have not been kind as much of the wood has rotted, the roof caved in, and anything on the interior was looted. As mentioned above, local civic groups however have taken an interest and over the past decade have been organizing volunteer groups to assist in cleaning up the site, which attracts quite a bit of garbage.

But its not likely that we’ll see much official effort to restore the building for the foreseeable future.

Architectural Design

As mentioned above, what remains of the mansion today is merely an empty shell of its former glory. Nevertheless, from what little remains and with the assistance of historic records, we can get a pretty good idea of how the mansion would have appeared in the 1930s.

Before I go into detail, I think it’s important to point something out that I briefly touched on earlier - I haven’t really seen this mentioned in any of the articles I’ve read about the man, or the mansion while researching for this article, so I’d like to point out that the narrative that Khóo Tsú-song was somehow a race traitor is a questionable one.

Khóo was a highly-educated man and especially gifted when it came to Chinese literature. However, when it came time for him to take his Imperial exam, the Japanese took control of Taiwan and the Qing Dynasty ended shortly thereafter. As a young man having to adapt to Japanese Colonial control, he dedicated his life to a career of public service and the development of the city he called home.

When it came time for Khóo to start considering retirement, he constructed a new mansion in his home town. Built during the Showa-era (昭和), when construction techniques in Taiwan were at their most refined, he could have easily had a Japanese-style mansion built for himself, and it would have been beautiful given the views of the city and the port at the time - But he didn’t do that - he paid homage to his heritage and constructed a traditional Fujian-style mansion on that hill almost as if he was making a bold statement about his cultural heritage.

That being said, Keelung is and always has been an international city, so even though the mansion takes most of its architectural inspiration from the traditional Fujian-style architecture that is so common in Taiwan, it is also an eclectic mixture of Japanese and Western influences in addition to making use of modern construction materials and techniques.

A traditional three-sided courtyard building (閩南式三合院建築), Khóo’s mansion is a two-floor structure that also included a basement. Essentially a three floor building, it was constructed with a mixture of brick and concrete using the ubiquitous Taiwan Renga (台灣煉瓦株式會社) red bricks made during the colonial era.

Note: These famed bricks can be found in many of the buildings from that era and amazingly remain in great shape today. So, if you look closely while touring the mansion, you may find bricks with “TR” printed on the top of them.

Suffice to say, the vast majority of the three-sided courtyard houses that you’ll find in Taiwan these days are single-floor buildings. This one remains quite special because it was constructed on the side of a mountain, which was carved in a way that allowed it to have a basement and two floors. The top floor was where the traditional design was most prevalent featuring a main section and ‘guardian dragon’ wings (護龍) on the left and right as well as a courtyard in front.

Interestingly, the ‘courtyard,’ here appears similar to its contemporaries, but is mostly just a flat section of the roof that covers the floors below. With this in mind, the top floor of the mansion is considerably smaller than the two floors below, but is also the most ornate part of the building. Likely used by the family as an ancestral shrine (given Khóo’s position as the head of the family) as well as providing a living space for the family’s servants within the wings, the architectural prowess used here was quite genius in its design.

Note: The Neihu Red House (內湖紅樓) might be of interest regarding brick Japanese-era mansions constructed with a fusion of architectural design.

Like many Hokkien-style buildings, the mansion was beautifully decorated with ornate cut-porcelain carvings (剪瓷雕) of flowers and birds and features some pretty cool bamboo windows (竹節圓窗) on either side of the door on the main wing. Similarly, one of the distinctive design features of the building are the ox-eye windows (牛眼窗) that you’ll find on each of the wings, which are Western Baroque-inspired inclusions.

Unfortunately there isn’t much I can say about the design of the floors below as they have been pretty much emptied out. The stairs and anything else that once existed inside on both the first floor and the basement have disappeared over the years as the mansion was left to rot and open to looters.

The last thing I’ll highlight about the design is the stone-washed triangular staircase located in the center-front of the building that allowed visitors to reach the top floor from the outside. Today, this set of stairs is pretty much the only method for visitors to reach the top floor of the building as the wooden stairs within the interior of the building have rotted away and were removed at some point over the past few decades.

The stairs are part of a network of stairs that were constructed especially for the mansion as there are two paths from ground level that were constructed for the building.

In the records that I’ve seen, it was reported that when the mansion was under construction, it was far too expensive to have laborers carry the bricks for the building up the hill, so Khóo enlisted the help of local children who were paid a cent for every brick that they carried up the hill.

Today, the mansion lies in ruins with the roof having already caved in and the staircases between floors taken away (likely by volunteers for the safety of those visiting). Although it is an empty shell of its former self, the building has interestingly been overtaken by nature with trees and roots growing along the outer walls of the mansion reminiscent of the popular Anping Tree House (安平樹屋) in Tainan.

The Keelung City Government for its part has set up some plaques with information about the mansion’s history, and the set of stairs that leads you from ground level to the mansion has been adorned with some interesting murals depicting the building in its original state. Unfortunately for the reasons mentioned above, that’s about the extent of what they’re able to do at this point until the legal situation of its ownership is settled. Visiting the mansion is pretty easy as it is a simple detour from the popular Miaokou Night Market area, so if you are planning on enjoying a day exploring the city, it shouldn’t take you too long to get there to check it out.

Getting There

 

Address: #15, Lane #2 Aisi Road, Keelung (基隆市仁愛區愛四路2巷15號)

GPS: 25.127360, 121.744070

Situated on a hill that overlooks Keelung Harbor, the long-abandoned mansion is currently obscured by all of the modern buildings that have been constructed around it. For decades it has been hidden in plain sight within close proximity to the city’s famed Miaokou Night Market with most unaware of its existence.

These days, it is a bit more well-known, but still somewhat of an obscure tourist site within the city that the vast majority of tourists tend to miss.

The area around Keelung Harbor is very walkable, so if you find yourself in the city looking for something to do before the sun goes down and the night market comes to life, a stop by this historic mansion is a pretty great option given its close proximity.

In a departure from my usual style, I’m only going to be providing walking directions for this one. The reason for this is because the mansion is in pretty close proximity to the night market, so if you take the train to the city, you can get there pretty easily. On the other hand, if you’re driving a car, you’re going to have to park in one of the parking garages near the night market and you’ll end up walking from the there.

The narrow roads near the night market don’t really make the route to the mansion accessible most of the time, and if you attempt it, you’ll likely find yourself stuck for quite some time, without any opportunity to find a parking spot nearby. So, if you’ve got a car, park it somewhere near the harbor and walk around the downtown core. It’ll be a far more enjoyable experience, I promise you.

Walking through the night market area on Rensan Road, you’ll make a right turn on Aisi Road (愛四路) where you’ll continue walking until the narrow road starts to curve right. When it does you’ll notice a set of stairs on the left side of the road with a brown sign that (probably still) reads “Xu, Zi-Sang Historical Home.”

From there you’ll simply walk up the hill where you’ll find the mansion at the end.

Along the way you’ll want to take note of some of the murals on the walls that depict how the mansion originally appeared.

Once you arrive, you’ll want to be careful of where you’re walking as you explore as some of the sections of the mansion aren’t as stable, especially in the areas where the stairs between floors once existed.

Watching over the modern development of Taiwan’s Northern Port City for almost a century, the old Khóo mansion is one of the city’s historic treasures, and even though it is in pretty bad shape, its continued existence is an important look into the history of the city. While it might seem like a somewhat obscure tourist destination, if you find yourself in Keelung and have a bit of time, visiting won’t take too much of your time, and you’ll be rewarded with a nice view of the city when you’re there.



Xianguang Second Village (憲光二村)

One of the most unfortunate aspects of Taiwan’s modern history is that even though it is (for the most part) well-recorded, it hasn’t been very well preserved. What I mean by this is that while history books have lots of information, they mostly just feature diagrams instead of photos as sadly, many of the historic places of interest around the country have long since vanished.  

One of the main reasons for this lack of preservation is that ‘history’ is often dictated by those in power and when you’ve been colonized as many times as Taiwan has, it shouldn’t really be surprising that much of what once existed has already been torn down, most often to better suit the interests of those in charge.

Its all too easy to make scapegoats of the Japanese and the Chinese Nationalists for the damage they caused, but even today, decades after the country has transformed into one of the most stable democracies in Asia, places of historic value continue to disappear, now though, its due to modern development. 

Such is the case that it doesn’t particularly matter if something was constructed by the Spanish, the Dutch, the Qing, the Japanese or the Chinese Nationalists - its open season if its considered to be in the way.

Fortunately there are vocal civic groups all over the country that are determined to protect Taiwan’s cultural and historic assets by any means necessary - This doesn’t mean that they always win, but the work these groups are doing now is helping to preserve important pieces of Taiwan’s history for future generations.

The government has likewise started taking a more proactive approach to the preservation of (some of) Taiwan’s historic properties. In recent years a considerable amount of public funds have been allocated for the restoration and repair of many of these places of interest. Sadly though, these projects don’t seem to be funded equally with poorer areas having a hard time keeping up.  

If you’ve been around for the past few years, you might have noticed that many former buildings constructed during the Japanese Colonial Era have been (or are in the process of being) restored and likewise several of Taiwan’s former Military Dependents Villages have been brought back to life with initiatives to convert them into tourist attractions. 

Links: Mazu New Village (馬祖新村) | Rainbow Village (彩虹村) 

I may be somewhat partial, but as far as I’m concerned, there are few places in Taiwan where those efforts have been more obvious than here in Taoyuan. The local government has spent a considerable amount of money renovating and restoring buildings of historic and cultural value.

Taoyuan, which has a reputation as an industrial area, was actually at one time better known for its high concentration of these ‘Military Villages’ and was home to a large portion of Taiwan’s new immigrant population when the Chinese Nationalists fled here after 1949. Only a handful of these villages currently remain though, so the fact that a ‘rich’ area of Taiwan has only committed to saving three of these villages goes to show how dire the situation can be with places of historic significance.

The three military villages that were lucky enough to be preserved in Taoyuan include Mazu New Village (馬祖新村) in Zhongli, Dawu New Village (大武新村) in Daxi, and Xianguang Second Village (憲光二村) in Guishan. Each of which is currently run under the ‘Military Village Iron Triangle’ project funded by the city government. So far though, only Mazu New Village has been completely restored and reopened the public while the other two are currently undergoing restoration with their official opening dates to be determined within the next few years. 

Link: The Taoyuan ‘Military Village Iron Triangle’ (桃園眷村鐵三角)

The topic of today’s blog post is Guishan’s Xianguang Second Village, which is located a short distance from the downtown core of Taoyuan District. The restoration project on the village started around the end of 2019, but in the few years prior to that, it was opened to the public on a trial basis a few days a week to allow people to check out what the village looked like and learn about its history.

That being said, in its current state there really isn’t much for most visitors in terms of things to see, learn or enjoy - So if you live outside out Taoyuan, I don’t think a visit to the village is worth a day trip.

If you’re here because you saw a cool-looking photo on Instagram, you might want to reconsider and wait until it officially opens within the next year or two. 

You probably know that I’m a bit weird by now though, so I made sure to visit the village a couple of times before the restoration project started. The reason for this was not because I wanted some cool instagram photos, but because I wanted to document the condition of the village before construction workers started tearing it apart.

The photos I’m sharing today in this post are meant to show the village in its abandoned condition before it reopens, which means that you can expect an update to this post a few years from now when it reopens to the public looking new and shiny. 

Before we talk about the village though, lets take a minute to talk about what Military Villages are:

Military Villages (眷村)

When the Chinese Nationalists retreated to Taiwan at the end of the Chinese Civil War (國共內戰) they brought with them over two million refugees, who were in quick need of places to stay.

Most of the people who were able to make the journey from China could only do so because they were part of the social elite or members of the Republic of China Armed Forces.

The new arrivals learned quickly that the government clearly wasn’t prepared to house them, so plans were made to hastily construct shoddy villages which would serve the purpose of 'temporarily' housing them until they could triumphantly return to their homeland when the communists were defeated.

Or so was the plan..  

The villages which are known as Military Dependents' villages (眷村) were constructed all over Taiwan in the 1940s and 1950s for members of the military and their families.

The Nationalist dream was that they would only retreat to Taiwan and ‘regroup’ for a short time in order to retake China from the communists. Unfortunately that would never come to pass and these so-called 'temporary' villages became 'permanent' settlements for the less privileged of those refugees.

The villages though ended up becoming important centres for the preservation of traditional Chinese culture, art, literature and cuisine and many of Taiwan’s older generation grew up in them.

Despite the refugees receiving preferential treatment from the government, the homes were sloppily put together and were property of the state, which meant that the tenants had no possibility of land ownership.

Over the years the tenants did their best to improve their living situations but as Taiwan's economic miracle was taking place, villages started to become abandoned as people sought a better, more comfortable life elsewhere.

Link: Military Dependents’ Villages (Wiki) | Military Villages (Spectral Codex)

As more and more of the homes were abandoned and left to the elements, the conditions at these villages became an contentious issue of public debate as it seemed that those who remained were living in government-owned slums. The government thus decided to improve the public-housing situation and tear down the majority of the villages, which would be replaced with modern high-rise apartments.

In recent years though, the people of Taiwan have taken interest in the preservation of the remaining villages and several civil groups have been set up to protect them. These groups have become somewhat of a thorn in the side of the government and (in some cases) the public pressure they have applied has forced the government to come up with alternative plans.

Unfortunately, the future of many of Taiwan’s remaining Military Communities is still undecided - with almost 90% of them having already become a faded memory. Its important that the few that remain are preserved to ensure that these important pieces of Taiwan’s history are preserved for the enjoyment of future generations. 

Xianguang Second Village (憲光二村) 

Xianguang Second Village was constructed in 1968 (民國57年) and was the only Military Dependents Village in Taoyuan that was built solely for the housing of the Military Police (憲兵).

  • Note: The first character in “憲兵” is “xiàn” (憲) which is where the name for this village comes from.  Military Police - “憲兵” (xiàn bīng). Xianguang - “憲光” (xiàn guāng)

When the initial construction was complete, the village was home to about fourteen narrow rows of homes that were interconnected with each other housing over 100 families. 

The homes were constructed in the typical ‘military village’ style that was common throughout Taiwan, which meant that the space inside was limited and that families lived together in close quarters with little to no privacy.  

Later in 1973 (民國62年), a block of four story high rise apartments was added and provided space space for an additional 40 families. The fact that this village showcases both the basic single-floor cramped ‘Military Village’ style of architectural design with the addition of a more modern style, allows it to stand out from the others in terms of what you’ll see when you visit.

Layout of the village from the official website

Layout of the village from the official website

As was the case with pretty much every other military village constructed around the country, people eventually got tired of living in such small (and poorly constructed) residences that they eventually opted to instead make the most of the Taiwanese economic miracle and purchase their own homes elsewhere. 

In 2006, after all of the residents of Xianguang Second Village had already vacated the village, the government designated it as a historic property and started coming up with plans to preserve the site for future use and its inclusion into Taoyuan’s Military Village culture network. 

In the thirteen years since, not much has happened at the village, but as I mentioned above, the restoration project to bring the village back to life has only just started, so it looks like the future of this quaint little village is looking quite promising and will be an attractive destination in the near future!  

Visiting the Village and Future Plans

Xianguang Second Village opened to the public a few years ago, under the Taoyuan City Government’s “Military Village Culture” initiative but when it first opened, public visits were limited to only two days a week and most of the village was off-limits. In the few years since, they gradually increased the amount of days that people could visit as well as planning a number of activities in order to attract more visitors.

I visited a few years ago when the village first opened to the public and unfortunately arrived only about an hour before they were about to close. I figured that would be enough time to check it out, but when the staff saw me wandering around they decided to approach me and ask if I needed help or a free tour.

I ended up having a long conversation with the friendly ladies who work there but unfortunately that didn’t leave me with much time to take photos as they chatted me up until closing time. 

Unlike Mazu New Village (馬祖新村) in nearby Zhongli, this village has yet to receive much attention in terms of fixing it up to make it look nice or giving it much promotion. So when people visit, especially foreigners, the staff get really excited.

As part of the Taoyuan City Government’s ‘Military Village Iron Triangle’ (桃園眷村鐵三角) mentioned above, it seems like this particular village had to wait in line (for funding) behind the renovation projects on Mazu New Village and Dawu New Village before it got its turn.

A typical military village style living room.

In November 2019, the long-planned three-year renewal project finally started at the village, which will see many of the buildings within completely renovated and transformed into a museum. From what I’ve read, the museum will be dedicated to ‘immigration’ in addition to being used as a space for various events, exhibitions and learning about the history of Taiwan’s Military Villages.

Knowing that the village would undergo this period of renewal, I thought it was best to make an effort to visit and get photos of what the village looked like before work started. Given that I have an interest in urban exploration and exploring places with historic value, it was nice to be able to freely explore the abandoned military village to see what the homes were like in their dilapidated and lived-in states.

I also knew from experience with the Mazu Village in Zhongli that once renovations started, it would difficult to gain access to any of the older buildings. 

Suffice to say when it comes to the future plans, all that has been mentioned is that the military village is slated to will become the ‘Xianguang Second Village Immigration Museum’ (憲光二村移民博物館) around 2022 and will focus on the modern history of immigration in Taiwan, especially with respect to all of the military villages in Taoyuan and the diverse ethnic groups of refugees who came here when the Nationalists lost the Chinese Civil War. 

I may seem like a broken record by now, but I’m guessing that the situation will be similar to what happened at Mazu New Village with the majority of the village being beautifully renovated and opened to the public with coffee shops, art displays and weekend activities on-site.

Only one of the buildings ended up being reserved to become the Taoyuan Arts Cinema (桃園光影電影館), so if I’m right, the actual ‘Immigration Museum’ will probably just be a permanent exhibition in one of the buildings while all of the others will be opened for tourism or commercial activities.  

Whatever the future holds, I hope that once the renovation project is completed and the village is reopened that whatever they plan to do with the space is well thought out and that it will be put to good use.

As it is, sections of the village will remain open to the public as the renovation project is underway but it should be obvious that if you plan on visiting before the official re-opening, you’ll be going at a time when there will be quite a bit of construction work going on at the same time. 

Getting There 

 

Address: Lane 138, Datong Road, Guishan District, Taoyuan City. (桃園市龜山區大同路138巷) 

Xianguang Second Village is located just outside of Taoyuan and is a short distance from the train station - It is a bit of a distance though, so if you’re heading into town and you don’t have a car or scooter, you’ll probably want to take some form of public transportation to get there, instead of walking. 

Taking a bus is quite simple, from Taoyuan Train Station (桃園車站) walk to the Tonlin Department Store (統領百貨) where you’ll find a bunch of bus stops to the right of the main entrance. From there get on Bus #137, which (should) come every fifteen to twenty minutes. You’ll want to stay on the bus until you reach the Datong Bus Stop (大同路口) where you’ll get off and walk down the hill to the village.

You could also easily take a YouBike from the Taoyuan Train Station and park it at the village when you get there, or simply returning it at one of the Youbike stations nearby.

The village is open to the public every week from Wednesday to Saturday (closed on Sundays / Mondays and Tuesdays) from 9:00 - 12:00 and 1:00 - 5:30. 

I would caution you though that in my experience, the hours of operation are quite fickle and once they start the renovation project, it is likely going to much more difficult to visit the village.

If you plan to visit Taoyuan just to check out this village, I highly recommend that you call first to confirm whether or not the village is actually even open to save yourself from disappointment. 

Phone number: 03-319-7132

Links: 桃園眷村鐵三角憲光二村 (Chinese-language only)

While you’re in the area, I also recommend taking some time to visit the Taoyuan Confucius Temple (桃園孔廟), Taoyuan Shinto Shrine (桃園神社) and exploring the Tiger Head Mountain (虎頭山) area which are all a short distance away from the village

The popularity in recent years for the renewal of historic properties like Huashan (華山), Songshan Tobacco Factory (松菸) and Mazu New Village (馬祖新村) as new cultural villages for art and design has most certainly been a welcome turn of events.

The problem though is that when the rebranding of these villages isn’t well thought out, it makes for a situation where the staff struggle to attract visitors. Over the past couple of years I’ve visited this village on a few different occasions and got the feeling each time that the staff are dedicated to the promotion of the village and its future and (even though they were a bit chatty), they’re always excited to have guests. 

Keeping in mind that the village is currently undergoing a renovation process similar to what happened at Mazu Village in Zhongli, I expect that some of these issues will be resolved when the village officially reopens in the next few years.

When it does reopen, I hope that I’ll be able to visit again to get photos of the renovated buildings and how they’ve gone about making it more attractive for visitors.


Abandoned Railway Dorms (台鐵安東街宿舍案)

Urban Exploration? It’s been a while! Even though I continue to actively explore in my free time, I haven’t posted anything urbex-related in quite a while. There are actually a few reasons for this - The most obvious is that I’ve been way too busy with commercial work and have had a difficult time catching up with all of the personal photos and blogs that I haven’t had a chance to get to.

When it comes to urbex-related stuff, I’ll eventually get to it, but sometimes if the story behind a place that I’m exploring doesn’t really interest me that much, I won’t spend much time writing about it. There are of course also some more annoying reasons why I haven’t been willing to post much urbex-related stuff in recent months, but I’m not really going to get into that here.

All I’ll say about that is the reason you’re seeing this today is because the area I’m writing about is already gone.

With todays post, I had the luck to be able to combine my enjoyment of urban exploration with a bit of research about Taiwanese history dating back to the Japanese Colonial Era, something that interests me quite a bit.

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while you’ll probably have noticed that I’ve lamented ad nauseam about the fact that when the Japanese Colonial Era ended in Taiwan, most of what was constructed that had anything to do with Japanese culture or religion was torn down or repurposed. Suffice to say, even though a lot of buildings were destroyed by the Chinese Nationalists, they didn’t actually tear down everything that the Japanese constructed.

In fact, a lot of the infrastructure that was constructed by the Japanese (in addition to the efficient way that they did things) was successfully emulated by the incoming regime, proving tremendously helpful when it came to further developing the country.

One of the best examples of this was the way the Japanese provided dormitories for employees of the state - So if you were a civil servant, worked at a school, university, hospital, were a member of the police force or the railway, it was likely that you had a dormitory assigned for yourself and your family.

It goes without saying that the “dorms” provided are not likely the university-style dormitories that you’re thinking - They were often large Japanese-style homes that were provided based on the importance of the work that you were doing with higher ranking state employees receiving larger homes for themselves while others would have received shared accommodations.

The dorms were also almost always constructed very close to your place of work, so if for example you were a police officer, the housing you were provided with was likely very close to the precinct you worked at. Likewise if you were a teacher or a principal, your home was likely constructed on school grounds or next door to the campus.

Link: Zhongli Police Dormitories (中壢警察局日式宿舍群)
Link: Jhudong Dormitories (竹東林務宿舍)

When the Nationalists arrived in Taiwan though they brought with them a couple of million refugees from China which instantly created a housing crisis. To solve this problem they moved many of the higher ranking bureaucrats that came with them into the existing dormitories constructed by the Japanese while at the same time emulating the Japanese and created “Military Villages” (眷村) of their own to be used as “temporary” housing.

As I’ve mentioned a few times in previous posts, the Chinese Nationalists arrived in Taiwan with the mindset that they were only going to be here on a short term basis while the Japanese on the other hand developed the island with the mindset that they were never going to leave; This is why many of those “dorms” constructed by the Japanese are still standing today while the hastily constructed Military Villages built by the Nationalists are falling apart and being torn down.

It is unfortunate that most of the buildings of cultural and religious significance that were constructed by the Japanese have already been torn down, but we can at least take solace in the fact that the history of the colonial era hasn’t been completely erased as the continued existence of the “dorms” acts as a link to an important period of Taiwan’s history.

In recent years, the Taiwanese government has done an admirable job (and spent a considerable amount of money) restoring many of the remaining buildings constructed during the Colonial Era and has converted them into tourist destinations. This renaissance of sorts has helped to highlight the fact that Taiwan is in fact an interesting country with an interesting history, which is something that is often overlooked by the local people here.

​A few months back I was invited to take a tour of the recently restored Taipei Railway Workshop (台北機廠) - The workshop, which is now open to the public for tours is an important piece of Taiwan’s history that dates back almost a century and is an excellent place to learn about Taiwan’s amazing railway system and how the railway was instrumental in Taiwan’s development.

While touring the workshop, one of the questions that came to mind was whether or not there were dormitories on-site - It seemed probable that one of the buildings in the administrative section could have been used for shared accommodations, but I was never able to confirm that. So while doing research for the article I was writing about the workshop, I took a bit of time to search out where the railway dorms were located.

One of the ways that I typically do research on this kind of stuff is to first take a look at the satellite view on Google Maps. The problem however in this case is that the Railway Workshop was located directly next door to the Songshan Tobacco Factory (松山菸廠), which would have also had dorms of its own. So without a definitive answer, I started doing some research.

The layout of the Eastern Block of the Taipei Railway Dormitories

In no time I discovered that the Railway Bureau had a few separate communities of dorms available for employees at the workshop and beyond. The largest of which was the nearby “Eastern Block” (臺北機廠東宿舍) community in the Songshan Area which dates back to 1937 (昭和12年). Although that community no longer exists today (the dorms were later moved), the interesting thing is that the land they were constructed on is currently home to the popular Wufenpu Shopping District (五分埔商圈) near the Raohe Night Market (饒河夜市).

Link: 臺北機廠東宿舍 (臺北市信義區文史地圖)

Link: Songshan Railway Residences (Synapticism)

If you were wondering about the other large community of railway dorms, namely the “Western Block” (台北西區鐵道宿舍群) you don’t have to look much further than the area between Taipei Train Station (台北車站) and the North Gate (北門).

The area was once home to the historic Taiwan Railway Hotel (台灣鐵道飯店) as well as a large community of dorms, both of which are currently in the process of being restored and will be open to the public in the near future - Unfortunately though, most of the dorm section has already been torn down and converted into a public park.

While it was actually quite simple to research the history of the Japanese-style railway dorm communities, the situation with the modern “Eastern Block Railway Dorms” was a bit more difficult to understand. The majority of the information online is either from some local news sites or real estate sites that were looking to rent out some of the apartments within.

So here’s what I can tell you - The modern high-rise style Railway dorm community was constructed in Taipei’s Eastern District between Zhongxiao Fuxing (忠孝復興站) and Nanjing Fuxing (南京復興站) MRT Stations. Constructed in the 1970s, the Taiwan Railway Andong Street Dorms (台鐵安東街宿舍案) became the new home for most of those who were living in the original dorm community in Songshan.

The apartment block consisted of several buildings in a walled-community and at full occupancy had enough space for two hundred apartments. After several decades however many of the people who were living in the apartments started to move out due to rising rent prices and employee layoffs, leaving many of the apartments abandoned.

At the turn of the century, the abandoned apartments started to become a problem for the local community as they apparently started to attract homeless people and drug users. Likewise the parking lot for some reason became a local dumping ground for abandoned cars, which attracted garbage, mosquitos and other pests.

The local Village Representative (里長) complained to the Taipei City Government on several occasions about the situation but nothing could be done as the community wasn’t completely abandoned and those families still living inside were unwilling to relocate. The Taiwan Railway Administration likewise was losing an insane amount of money every year in property taxes on a plot of land that would otherwise be considered prime real estate and the central government was none-too-happy about the accumulating losses.

Link: 台鐵安東街宿舍荒廢淪車輛棄置廠 (民視新聞)

In 2015, the community made headlines across the Taipei culinary scene when the Railway Administration issued eviction notices to the occupants of the 3600 square meter area. This meant that all the occupants and businesses in the area would have to relocate as the community would eventually be torn down. The most famous occupant, Lin Dong-Fang Beef Noodles (林東芳牛肉麵), a staple of the local food scene, likewise would have to find a new place to operate their business - sending late night foodies into a frenzy. Where would one get their late night beef noodles fix if they closed?

Link: 台鐵局收回宿舍用地 林東芳牛肉麵年底前要搬家 (ET Today)

The good news is that they found a new place nearby to cook their noodles.

When I blogged about the Taipei Railway Workshop, I wanted to check out the dorms, but I found out that it would ultimately be a race against time as the buildings were about to be completely demolished. So, I found some time to get myself to the area, found a way in and explored a few of the abandoned apartment buildings. To tell the truth though, when I arrived, they had already started tearing down many of the buildings, so I was really limited as to what I could take photos of.

As you’re reading this now, the buildings are already completely demolished and the future of the land is yet to be decided. One would hope that the Taipei City Government in conjunction with the Central Government would follow through on their campaign promises and use the land to construct affordable public housing, but only time will tell.

Still, I’m glad that I was able to get into the apartments to check them out and document an interesting part of Taiwan’s history that is likely to be completely forgotten.