Aboriginal youth
donning traditional
clothing and joining in
the ancient dance flash
branded shoes and the
newest smartphonesAs they circle the ceremonial
grounds, the repetitive dance becomes
hypnotic. This is part of the Taiwanese
Saisiyat tribe’s performance of the rare
Pasta’ay ritual, which commemorates
the Ta’ay, a mythical pygmy race of
“short black people” that died at the
hands of the Saisiyat hundreds of
years ago. It is performed every two
years, but 2016 marked the “grand
ceremony”, which happens only once
every decade.
The ritual can last up to a month,
but there are only a few nights where
outsiders are invited in to observe
and join their dance of remembrance.
Joined hand-in-hand, the dancers
form alternating concentric circles
which unexpectedly stop, speed up,
and change direction from sundown
to sunrise. Joining in the ritual, one
can experience undeniably powerful
camaraderie, which lasts for 12
continuous hours.
The ancient ceremony is not devoid
of modern influence: Aboriginal youth
donning traditional clothing and joining
in the ancient dance flash branded
shoes and the newest smartphones,
belOw The dancers join hands
to form alternating concentric circles,
which unexpectedly stop, speed up,
and change direction, surrounded by
onlookers in Hsinchu Countyleft Participants dance at the Grand
Pasta’ay festival, memorialising the
Ta’ay, a race of “short black people”
that died at the hands of the Saisiyat
hundreds of years ago
contemporary Taiwanese street food
is sold alongside the traditional
indigenous wine, and plastic streamers,
feathers and metal chimes intermingle
where Japanese bullet casings and
bamboo were once worn instead.
This inclusion of the modern does
not seem sacrilegious – it appears to
be a necessary adaptation in the face of
cultural erasure. Taiwan was previously
colonised by the Dutch, various
Chinese groups, and the Japanese, and
several indigenous groups disappeared
as a result of subsequent violence,
displacement, cultural assimilation,
and capitalist pressures. Some have
survived. Pasta’ay, while remaining
true to its original form, is evolving,
displaying the Saisiyat’s cultural
survival, and revival.APOLOGY THROUGH REMEMBRANCE
Pasta’ay is also a form of apology
to the now extinct Ta’ay – but it
is not only the Saisiyat doing the
apologising. Remembering the cultural
marginalisation of indigenous groups
has recently re-surfaced as a priority of
the Taiwanese government.
In August 2016, Taiwanese president
Tsai Ying-wen made an unprecedented
speech in August 2016 in which she
apologised to Taiwan’s aboriginal
people for “four centuries of pain
and mistreatment”. Significantly,
her speech touched on the importance
of remembrance.
She apologised for the way
history has been written to ignore
Taiwan’s indigenous people, and for
the banning of indigenous languages
by the Japanese and early Taiwanese
government. She made an oath to
rectify these injustices.
Speaking about truth and
reconciliation, she said: “In the Atayal
language, truth is called balay, and
reconciliation is called sbalay, so
you simply add an ‘S’ sound to balay.
Truth and reconciliation are, in fact,
two related concepts. In other words,
only by facing the truth sincerely can
reconciliation be attained.”
The event was accompanied
by solidarity from indigenous
representatives, but was also met with
protest at what was seen as a meagre
attempt to appease indigenous groups.
Some expressed cynicism for both
sides: “The president doesn’t need to
apologise to us,” said 35-year-old Yeqin
(葉芩) outside her home in the half-
Saisiyat, half-Atayal village of Qingquan,
near the site of Pasta’ay. “Why did she
tell aborigines to sit out in the sun and
line up in hot clothes for an apology?
It isn’t right. Saying sorry to us has
no use. The damage is already done.”
Yeqin says that she still encounters
negative stereotypes about aboriginal
groups – like whether aborigines drink
all the time. The problem, in Yeqin’s
view, runs much deeper than a word
of apology from the president.on assignment