FORMOSAN MILLETS CULTURE: IDENTITY AND RESURGENCE

Introduction

Taiwan has a reputation for food. After having spent a month on the island, I can now fully understand why. In Formosa, I discovered some of the most intricate combinations of flavour I had the chance to taste to this day; from the lean mountain meats served in the mountain of the Taroko National Park, to the rich grilled fish eaten in Taimali, without forgetting the astonishing quantity of dumplings consumed in the streets of the cities. Nevertheless, despite the fact that I was able to experience unreal fusions of savour that I could only dream of reproducing, toward the end of the month, I started to deplore that exoticism and to nostalgically wish for a basic bowl of pasta summarizing my boring, but familiar diet. Because food is not only a means of subsistence, a nutrient that we have to consume three times a day in order to be alive; food is part of who we are and can become a marker of what we want to represent. Think about pretty much any locations destined to tourists where restaurants display local specialties with pride and exuberance. This blog will explore deeper this dimension of food, especially local food. Using the example of the culture of millets and its use in Formosa indigenous cuisine, the following article will show that local food can be beneficiaries to one’s, or to one group’s, identity on an internal and on external level. To do that, based on recent anthropological literature and my own experience with some Indigenous Peoples of Taiwan, this text, after defining what “local” is and given a short history of Taiwan Millet’s production, will demonstrate the advantage of “local” products, such as millet base products, on identity, especially indigenous identity.

Some of the Indigenous dishes we had the chance of eating

What is “local”?

        Before going further into the text, it is important to establish how “local” will be defined. What characterizes “local” dishes, specialties or produces? As explained by Nir Avieli in “Local Food, Local Specialties and Local Identity,” the adjective “local” cover a field of significations as wide as imprecise (Avieli, 2019, p. 134). Let’s place that in the context of Taiwan food landscape. Some could understand the adjective “local” as describing a dish which would be fully indigenous [1]. A meal eaten in Yaya’s Organic Farm, in Skadang Village, would then represent the epitome of “local”; meat hunted in the mountain nearby, vegetable coming directly from the farm’s garden and dishes prepared in agreement with the traditions and knowledge of the individuals originating from the land. Nevertheless, fried chicken also has the reputation of being a classic Taiwanese’s specialty. A plate of fried chicken, served in one of the various Taiwanese’s night market, could then be described as local, despite the facts that the ingredients composing it could originate from hundreds of kilometres to where the dish is served and that crispy chicken first come from China, as a specialty of the Shanghai cuisine, and was then brought to Taiwan during colonization (Liu, 2011, p. 57). Thus, the adjective “local” refers to a dish here and now, but exclude a lot of clarification on how it came to be. To avoid the ambiguity that the word brings up, I will here narrow the sense of “local.” To do so, I will borrow Mintz’s definition of local food. Local food will then represent, “culturally specific food systems prepared in a particular territory with its own season, flora and fauna, soil hydrology, farming, and processing techniques, preservation and storage system and distinct division of labour (Mintz in Avieli, 2019, p.134)” to which Avieli also incorporates, “social endorsement and meanings by those who prepare and consume them” (Avieli, 2019, p. 134). The meaning of local food has, consequently, not only a geographical dimension but also social and historical dimensions who gave us the chance to understand better the millet Formosan production and the various dishes arising from it.

"Local" Taiwanese specialties

History of the Formosan Millet

This brings us to the next part of this paper, the millet production. Millet is a crop. Its long stem ends by an ear composed of round grains of a size in the middle of the one of a corn and a wheat grain. It can be transformed in starch and can be used in a variety of dishes or alcohol as it or fermented (Takei, 2013, p. 1). Millet has also been, for several thousands of years, a staple of the alimentation of the Indigenous Peoples of Taiwan. The corps is also deeply intertwined with the cultural practices and life of these communities. The Harvest Festival is a striking example of that fact. Celebrated during the summer months, this event marks the Millet harvest. Indigenous Peoples will use it as a way to socialize, to celebrate traditions or even to declare their love for each other [2]. Thus, millet becomes a forefront component of a lot of Formosan Indigenous Peoples lives such as the Rukai or the Amis. Despite that fact, millet production noticeably decreased after the Japanese colonization. Indeed, while the first wave of Chinese colonization left the indigenous tribes of the east side live as they will, due, in most part, to effective resistance from the native communities, the Japanese colonial state had other plans. In order to control the integrality of the Formosa Island, the Japanese’s authorities forced assimilation on the indigenous community in a violent fashion. Part of the assimilation strategy involved forcing the communities to grow and consume rice. Consequently, under the strict Japanese regime, paddy fields started replacing millet fields in the east Formosan landscape and rice integrate itself slowly into the daily indigenous diet.

Today, indigenous communities and scholars work together to reinstate millet production into the daily indigenous life. In National Dong Hwa University, a millet field stands in the middle of campus. The College of Indigenous Studies of this same university offer the chance for students to learn, as part of their academic curriculum, how to cultivate and cook millet. For some indigenous students, it is an opportunity to gain a deeper understanding of their own culture (as will be developed further in this article). In the village of Taromake, where reside the largest Rukai community of Taitung, the culture of millet is taught at the elementary school. Children can take care of the millet field adjoining the school; a way for them to delve into their culinary and cultural heritage. In the Taimali Township, a small town harbouring an Amis and Paiwan population, we had the chance to participate in a Lalauran Millet Workshop. This workshop is run by members of the Paiwan tribe in order to present millet and indigenous cooking to those willing to participate. All those examples show to us the way in which millet is being reintroduced in Taiwan indigenous life today.

                                                                       

Millet can be use in several dishes and products, on the left is a desert based on millet, on the right is a dish using fermented millet

 Local Food and Identity

Through the history of Taiwanese millet, we can understand why it represents a striking example of “local food” according to the Mintz/Avieli’s definition. Indeed, millet is a direct product of Formosa’s ecology; it’s been grown for thousands of years in the Taiwanese soil, same soil where reside the indigenous community harvesting and consuming the crops. The grain is also deeply linked to the culture of Indigenous Peoples of Taiwan therefore carrying multiple social and cultural meanings. Understanding millet as a local food is a way to comprehend better the way in which its production can be beneficial for the people harvesting it, especially on an identity level. This article will treat identity in a Goffmanian way with a clear separation between the performance, the way we present ourselves to the world, and the face, our true selves (Fawkes, 2019, p. 677). As I will demonstrate, local food can be a beneficiary to both of those components of identity. 

On the one side, the production of millet helps people reinforce their persona. In Artisanal Foods and the Cultural Economy: Perspective on Craft, Heritage, Authenticity and Reconnection Harry G. West, addresses the connection between what he describes as “artisanal food,” which correspond to the definition of local food used in this paper, and cultural heritage (West, 2019). According to him, eating local food would be a way to “reconnect” with, among other things, your cultural heritage. Indeed, one of the advantages of eating “local” according to West is related to the “impact of such food on traditional knowledge systems” (West, 2019, p. 407). By eating local, individuals can restate their cultural heritage. If a disconnection with traditions can create an effect of discomfort and disjunction between one and part of their identity, reconnecting with them can create the opposite reaction. Thus, eating local food can help individuals reconnect with their identity.

This argument can be applied to the millet farm at National Dong Hwa University (NDHU). As mentioned above, the College of Indigenous Studies (CIS) at NDHU offers to its students the opportunity to learn how to harvest millet as part of the curriculum. To do so, a millet field in annexed to the CIS, standing tall at the centre of the campus. A bamboo house, built according to indigenous tradition, is located next to the field. In this environment many students have a chance to learn about indigenous knowledge and traditions through food agriculture; for indigenous students the importance of the class takes a particular significance. Effectively, a good proportion of students from CIS has Indigenous origin and as it could be understood during many conversations with them, some of them struggle with their identity. Some grew up in Taipei, far from their indigenous tribes; others, never discussed  their indigenous heritage when growing up and only started exploring through the university. To each their own story, but despite the multiplicity causes, the result stays the same; there is often a disconnection between the student and their indigenous identity. While learning how to grow millet will not solve the whole problem, it helps; harvesting the crop is a way for them to reconnect with their ancestor, honour their traditions and, doing so, accept their indigeneity. The CIS Millet Farm is only one example between many of the way millet production can play into an individual self-identity, but it shows us clearly how “local” food can be used as a validation of your own identity.

In some indigenous educational institutions, millet heritage is part of the curriculum

The consequences of millet production on identity does not stop at an internal level. Indeed, millet can not only help Indigenous Peoples of Taiwan understand who they are, but it also gave them a way to show their identity to the outside world. In fact, there are several instances in which “local” food can be used to display one group’s identity to the outside world. This can be understood better through Avieli conceptualization of local food and local specialties as artefacts (Avieli, 2019, p. 140). Those artefacts would show “social and cultural complexities of the local well beyond the explicit definitions made by the local” (ibid.). Thus, by consuming “local” food, outsiders would get a deeper understanding of the local culture. Hence, cultural groups can use food to justify their cultural singularities and to show the necessity of preserving their cultural heritage. Effectively, several governments [3] have already recognized local foods and footways as a form of cultural heritage (West, 2019, p. 417). In consequence, communities, groups or nations can use “local” food to confirm themselves as a distinct community. To do so, food must become a performance, a demonstration. A fact that can be well applied to the Formosan indigenous millet culture.

In fact, during our stay at NDHU, we had the chance to attend a lecture given by Dr. Joyce H. Y. Yeh, entitled “Beyond Dishes: Indigenous Food as Alternative Path of Development?” Throughout the presentation, Dr. Yeh presented the idea indigenous cooking, amongst other roles, as a performance (Yeh, 2019). Indeed, indigenous scholars and indigenous communities are aware of the effect that “local” food can have on their identity from an outside perspective. Lalauran Millet Workshop is a striking example of how this dynamic takes place. We visited the workshop the first weekend of our stay in Taiwan. At that point, after a week of lecture at NDHU, I would admit that our group of students probably had more knowledge of Taiwan Indigenous Peoples than most tourists, still, lacking experience, my grasp of the culture was limited. Thus, I arrived at Lalauran as an outsider. There, by learning how to cook millet and how to make indigenous dishes, I learn about cooking. But, more than that, I immersed myself deeper in the Paiwan culture. Through questions and information accompanying the workshop, I learned about gender roles. I learned about who was going to eat the millet, which millet dishes were appropriated to each occasion. I learned about the histories and the myths surrounding the crops; all of that, while having a direct experience with the plant, with the culture. Getting out of the workshop, I had a deeper understanding of the Paiwan culture. I am not claiming that I was ceasing the entirety of the complexity surrounding it, but I, at least, could understand the importance of protecting and celebrating it. By experiencing and learning through millet, I gained, as an outsider, a better understanding of the Paiwan identity. This example leads us to understand how indigenous peoples can use local food to showcase their identity and their strength to the government of Taiwan.

LaLauran Millet Workshop

Resurgence

    Indeed, as it is the reality for most Indigenous Peoples, Indigenous Peoples of Taiwan struggle to get recognition as distinct political entities. Right now, 16 officials’ indigenous tribes are officially recognized by Taiwanese government. Other tribes are in the process of getting recognition. While the status of tribe brings rights to the communities, mostly under the Basic Law, there is still inequalities and existing conflicts [4]. And, while in the past few years, great progress has been made concerning the indigenous status in Taiwan, the unstable political climate and the next election, due in January 2020, could cause a regress in the legal routes for recognition. Briefly, the fight for rights and status is still of actuality for the Indigenous Peoples of Taiwan.

Sadly, the legislative way, represent a long and hard process. Process sometimes frustrating considering that laws, despite their existence, can be overlooked [5]. Thus, Indigenous Peoples of Taiwan also go through alternative ways of resistance; a reality shared with many Indigenous Peoples of the world, among others Indigenous Peoples of Canada. Alfred Taiaiake, a prominent Mohawk scholar, currently teaching at the University of Victoria, addressed this situation in his article “En finir avec le bon sauvage” (Taiaiake, 2019). To him, indigenous people must stop going through the legal route as a way of resistance and turn to another mean: resurgence (Taiaiake, 2019, p. 68). Resurgence, “the idea of resurrecting, resurfacing; of finding way of transcending our resistance.” (Ibid.) would be a way for Indigenous People to detach themselves totally from colonialism and reclaim the control of their narrative by gaining back their strength and their total freedom (Ibid.). Looking through Taiaiake definition of resurgence and through the objectives he establishes to attain it, we can see one, strongly linked with millet culture. Indeed, Taiaiake wishes for “a comeback of traditional indigenous alimentary practice” (Ibid.).  Indeed, millet production in Taiwan can be a way for Indigenous People of Taiwan to experience this resurgence. Therefore, the millet culture is not only a way, for indigenous people, to understand their identity and to showcase it to the world, but also, a route of resistance; a way to show that, despite multiple waves of colonization, they are still eating their food, in the respect of their traditions, proclaiming their heritage and their culture. All of which are still resplendent. 

Local Taiwanese Cuisine, also means revisiting traditional products

Conclusion

Briefly, the Formosan millet production is a way for Indigenous Peoples of Taiwan, to reaffirm their identities on an internal and on external dimensions. It allows them to rediscover their heritage when necessary and it also becomes a way of resistance. Indeed, by eating their “local” and traditional food, Indigenous Peoples of Taiwan are on the path to a resurgence. However, in his article conceptualizing “local” Avieli brings an interesting dimension to the identity benefits of “local” dishes. The Ben Guiron University professor mentions the existence of a paradox surrounding local specialities. If he is in agreement with the fact that “local specialities are the vessels for the expression of local identity” (Avieli, 2019, p. 140), he argues that, when used to represent the external identity to the rest of the world as a performance, specialty dishes do not represent the internal local identity fully. One should then choose between the persona or the performance (Ibid.). Most of this paradox would be due to the capitalism system and the sacrifice that must be made to market profitably a profit. It would be interesting to study this paradox through in the millet Formosan production. Does it exist? If it does not, what distinguishes this situation from others like it? Thinking through it, it is incredibly hard to forget the words of Dr. Joyce H. Y. Yeh when talking about indigenous agritourism; “It is not authenticity. It is performance.” (Yeh, 2019)

Bibliography

Avieli, Nir. 2016. “Local Food, Local Specialties and Local Identity.” In The Handbook of Food and Anthropology, by Jakob A. Klein and James L. Watson, Bloomsbury Academic, 496. London.

Ciavolella, Riccardo, and Éric Wittersheim. 2016. Introduction à l’anthropologie Du Politique. Ouvertures Politiques. Louvain-La-Neuve: De Boeck supérieur.

Fawkes, Johanna. 2015. “Performance and Persona: Goffman and Jung’s Approaches to

Professional Identity Applied to Public Relations.” Public Relations Review 41 (5): 675–80. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pubrev.2014.02.011.

Friedman, Kerim. 2019. “Mapping Language Ideology in Taiwan.” National Dong Hwa University, May 6.

Laws and Regulations Database of the Republic of China. 2018. “The Indigenous Peoples Basic Law.” June 20, 2018. https://law.moj.gov.tw/Eng/LawClass/LawAll.aspx?PCode=D0130003

Liu, Haiming. 2011. “Flexible Authenticity.” Chinese America: History & Perspectives,

January, 57–65. https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=a9h&AN=78022834&site=ehost-live.

Taiaiake, Alfred. 2017. “En finir avec le bon sauvage.” Nouveaux Cahiers du socialisme,

no. 18: 65–70.

West, Harry G. 2016. “Artisanal Foods and the Cultural Economy : Perspectives on Craft,

Heritage, Authencity and Reconnection.” In The Handbook of Food and Anthropology, by Jakob A. Klein and James L. Watson, Bloomsbury Academic, 496. London.

Yeh, Joyce H. Y., 2019. “Beyond Dishes: Indigenous Food as Alternative Path of Development?”.           Breathing Life, May 8

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[1] In the sense of coming from a precise location. Not in the legal or anthropological sense of term. (Ciavolella and Witthersheim, 2016, p.31)

[2] As explained further in the first post of this blog “490 - 573 NM”

[3] In example, France and Poland.

[4] As it was exposed during our first day of class as part of a a lecture given by Dr. Kerim Friedman (Friedman, 2019)

[5] My second blog, where I address the situation of Asia Cement goes deeper into this subject.