My legs are shaking, my heart is quaking and the harness that is pinning me to my seat seems much too loose. I am one of a dozen other fool-hardy souls that are about to be flung in all 360 points of the compass on the space loop.

I'm having second thoughts, but there is no backing out now. To escape my fate, I would have to climb back down the platform and walk past the long row of fathers, mothers and kids waiting to experience what astronauts feel in their spacecraft. Talk about "bu hau yi si" (embarrassing) - I would never be able to show my face at Taiwan Folk Village again.

A noodle maker hands out lines of noodle to
stretch in his courtyard

Taiwan Folk Village is one of the latest, and arguably the most impressive, theme parks in Taiwan, catering to the serious business of play which is gaining momentum among the people of this hard-working nation.
 

Incense laid outside a shop to dry
 

The man behind Taiwan Folk Village is Shih Chin-shan. After visiting various theme parks during his business trips abroad, he decided to build one in Taiwan to not only give local people a place to enjoy their hard-earned leisure time, but also to help save Taiwan's disappearing history and culture.

History is the prominent feature of the park; it is a living museum where visitors walk through a reconstructed village watching craftsmen display long-forgotten skills, rediscover traditional entertainment and in effect, find again a part of their lives that has been overtaken by the island's phenomenal industrial growth. Many of the cottages in the park have been moved brick by brick from their original sites and reconstructed in the village. To add authenticity, homes are furnished with antique furniture, clothes and hats hang on coat racks, and pots and pans wait in the sink for washing -- all of which creates a lived-in atmosphere that makes you feel you are a stranger wandering through someone's home.

While not all the buildings are original, replicas have been painstakingly built by local artisans with extreme care paid to details. This is clearly seen at the park's entrance, where visitors pass though the full-size replica of the Ching Fong Gate. The gate is based on the Changhua West Gate, which was built in the Ching Dynasty.

Inside the park, visitors can stroll from cottage to cottage or ride an ox-driven bus that trundles through the park. Near the entrance of the sprawling 52-hectare park, most of the buildings are working cottages - noodle makers stretch and pull strings of dough in the courtyard, incense makers roll fragrant powder on bamboo strips and tea makers ferment aromatic leaves following centuries old techniques.
In the heart of the park, houses display the rich architectural variety of Taiwan's different regions. In the same area, stalls lining "No Sky Street" sell handicrafts, food and souvenirs, while, nearby, opera singers act out tragedies and comedies in an open Chinese opera square. At the top of the park, a few aboriginal stone houses set around the amusement rides sell aboriginal handicrafts and confectionery. For an additional charge (from NT$30-60) visitors can ride on various amusement rides -  from the carousel to the ghost train to the space loop. I opted for the later.

A traditional Chinese umbrella 
workshop

I was looking down on the crowd of kids taking bets on who would throw up first, when I suddenly found myself being flung skyward and then plunged earthward spinning like a top.

For three and a half minutes I managed to keep down my beef noodle, and when the space loop finally came to a halt, the safety harness was released. With my head still spinning, but my pride still intact, I stepped onto the platform with wobbly legs and thought: "what a wonderful way to end a wonderful day out."
 
 
Home

1998 Copyright. All rights reserved