I want to write this post to the English readers of this blog because this is a critical moment. It all starts with an invisible name.
I was born in 1985 in Taipei. I observed that people here often struggle to express themselves on national identity. While the younger generation has primarily moved past this issue, many older citizens still find it challenging to confront.
On the global stage, Taiwan has a name that can’t be spoken out loud—because one of our giant neighbors might not be pleased. This neighbor also happens to be one of Taiwan’s key trade partners. Internally, there’s an ongoing debate over which national flag “truly” represents us. Even though we live in a democratic society where every citizen can vote to decide their lifestyle, Taiwan’s relationship with major global powers is a recurring and polarizing election issue.
This unique predicament is complicated to fully grasp unless you’ve lived a day as a Taiwanese and experienced its realities, frustrations, and sense of loss.
Names and Memories
Back when I had just graduated from college—when renting DVDs was still popular—I watched Miyazaki Hayao’s Spirited Away. Its central theme left a deep impression on me: if someone under a curse forgets their name, they can never find their way home. Taiwanese people would resonate deeply with this concept, but when I shared my thoughts with friends at that age, they didn’t feel the same.
In Taipei, I’ve met people indifferent to politics, yet many come from families who are deeply passionate about political issues. These families often have vastly different interpretations of Taiwan’s history.
Japan colonized Taiwan for 50 years, ending with the Second World War. Immediately following the loss of the Chinese Civil War, the Kuomintang government retreated to Taiwan in 1949. During the Japanese occupation, Taiwanese people were forced to assimilate, learning to speak and write Japanese and being told to identify as Japanese. Then, a new exiled government arrived, declaring that Taiwanese people must identify as Chinese. Native languages were banned, history textbooks were rewritten, and the entire island became a base for the planned “counterattack” on the mainland. No one talks about these things nowadays. But at that time, everyone took the task seriously, and no one dared treat it as a joke.
This internal and external identity struggle was harrowing. After years of authoritarian rule, the questions “Who are we?” and “What’s next for us?” became collective dilemmas for Taiwanese people.
Baseball and Hope
Baseball, a team sport introduced during the Japanese colonial era, has become deeply ingrained in Taiwanese culture. Generations of Taiwanese baseball players have carried the torch, and their success in international tournaments often serves as a rare moment for Taiwan to gain global recognition. However, these hopes are frequently met with disappointment.
In the 2013 World Baseball Softball Classic (WBSC), Taiwan’s national team nearly defeated Japan, leaving a bitter memory for many Taiwanese fans. Fast forward to 2024, and those players have now become the coaching staff for the national team. Leading a squad with an average age under 25, they achieved an unprecedented victory in WBSC Premier 12 at Tokyo Dome in November, defeating Japan for the world championship. This victory marked a historic milestone for Taiwanese baseball and the first time Taiwan shut out a Japanese professional team on such a grand stage.
Rediscovering Our Invisible Name
This victory was undoubtedly thrilling, but Taiwanese players aspire to do more than win—they aim to learn from Japan. They want to understand how Japan became a baseball powerhouse and elevate their skills comprehensively. Their goal isn’t merely to defeat Japan again but to stand firm on the international stage and ensure the lasting glory of Taiwanese baseball through their efforts.
Team captain Chieh-Hsien Chen made a symbolic gesture while running the bases during one play. He touched his chest to draw attention to something missing on the Taiwanese jersey. Looking at the uniforms of other countries, it became clear that the missing element was Taiwan’s name.
The theme of Spirited Away resurfaced in my mind: “If you forget your name, you can’t find your way home.” This statement carries an incredibly profound meaning for Taiwan—they are also trying to regain the name that can’t be displayed dignifiedly.
A Bountiful Island
As a Taiwanese, I often sense a quiet humility in the people of this island. When a foreigner correctly spells “Taiwan” or even identifies its location on a map, it sparks unusual excitement—likely because we’ve been mistaken for Thailand too many times due to the similar-sounding names.
If you’ve read this far and now understand this context, I hope you’ll extend some encouragement the next time you meet someone from Taiwan. They genuinely crave recognition.
If you ever have the chance to visit Taiwan, you should do so because there are so many incredible things waiting for you to explore.
You can stroll through Taipei’s Dihua Street and Dadaocheng, where century-old architecture meets modern culture in a unique blend.
You can stand atop Alishan, watching the sunrise pierce through a sea of clouds in breathtaking splendor.
You can visit the Jing-Mei White Terror Memorial Park to trace Taiwan’s difficult journey toward democratization.
You can savor braised pork rice, Taiwanese beef soup, and late-night cravings like Taiwanese popcorn chicken and pepper pork bun that will leave you wanting more.
Like Taiwan’s history, the street food is complex, diverse, and irresistibly charming. Like its people, the scenery is humble and reserved but always eager to connect with the world.
Taiwan looks forward to welcoming you. Come and see its beauty, listen to its stories, and be part of the connection between this island and the world. Every visitor is a beacon of hope for Taiwan’s global ties.
—
Taiwan Team Wins the 2024 WBSC Championship, Breaking Multiple Records:
First Appearance in the WBSC Premier12 Championship Game
First Victory Over Japan’s All-Professional Team
First Championship Title in Major International Tournaments (Olympics, World Baseball Classic, WBSC Premier12)
First Shutout Against Cuba in a Tier-1 International Game (Preliminary Round: 2-0 Win Against Cuba)
First Victory Over the USA in a Tier-1 International Game in 21 Years (Super Round: 8-2 Win Against USA)
First Time Scoring More Than 3 Runs Against Japan’s All-Professional Team (Super Round: 6-9 Loss to Japan, Setting a New Scoring Record)
First Grand Slam in WBSC Premier12 History for Taiwan (Bottom of the 2nd Inning Against South Korea, Chen-Wei Chen Hit a Grand Slam)
First Multi-Homer Inning in WBSC Premier12 History for Taiwan (Bottom of the 2nd Inning Against South Korea, Chen-Wei Chen and Chieh-Hsien Chen Both Homered)
Two Multi-Homer Innings in WBSC Premier12 History for Taiwan (Including the 5th Inning of the Championship Game Against Japan, Lyle Lin and Chieh-Hsien Chen Homered)
First Time All Position Players Recorded Hits in a Single Game in WBSC Premier12 History for Taiwan
—
Tranlation
中文翻譯:
這篇文章,我想寫給這個部落格的英文讀者。因為我感受到這是一個重要時刻。這一切要從一個「看不見的名字」說起。
我是 1985 年出生的台北人。從小到大,觀察這片土地上的人,我發現最讓他們困惑的,就是公開說出自己的國族認同。即使年輕一代逐漸克服了這個問題,但不少老一輩的公民依然在這方面掙扎。
在國際舞台上,臺灣有一個不能被公開講出來的名字——因為我們的一位龐大鄰居可能不高興,而它又是臺灣重要的貿易夥伴。在這片土地內部,哪一面國旗才能真正代表我們,則更是一個分裂的問題。儘管我們生活在民主社會,每位公民都可以用選票來決定想要的生活方式,但關於臺灣該與世界大國保持怎樣的關係與距離,卻經常成為選戰的關鍵議題。
這樣的特殊情結,若不是當過一天臺灣人,很難體會其中的現實、無奈與失落。
還記得剛從大學畢業的時代,那時候還流行租借 DVD。有一次,我看了宮崎駿的《神隱少女》,至今仍印象深刻。這部影片的核心命題是:遭遇詛咒的人若忘記了自己的名字,就再也回不了家。我那時看完後便覺得,臺灣人應該會對這個主題特別有感。然而,當我和朋友提起這件事時,卻發現他們並沒有同樣的迴響。
我居住的台北,有些人對政治極度冷感,但有意思的是,這些人往往來自政治狂熱的家庭。他們的家庭對於臺灣的歷史,有著截然不同的想像。
臺灣曾經被日本殖民長達 50 年,隨著二戰告終。緊接著,因為中國內戰的失利,國民黨政府於 1949 年撤退到臺灣,並將臺灣捲入這場「中國內戰」的延續。日本殖民時期,臺灣人被強迫接受皇民化教育,學說日語、寫日文字,被教導認同自己是日本人。而後,另一個流亡政府來到這座島嶿,要求臺灣人必須認同自己是中國人。母語被禁止,歷史課本被改寫,整個島嶼成為反攻大陸的預備基地。而這些事情,如今已經沒有人在講了。但當時每一個人都很認真,沒人敢把這個任務當成笑話。
這種內外身份的撕裂,是極度痛苦的。在長時間的威權統治後,「我們是誰,接下來該怎麼辦?」成為臺灣人集體的困惑。
棒球,作為一項從日本殖民時期引入的團隊運動,深植於臺灣文化中。臺灣的棒球選手一代代傳承,在國際賽事中取得好成績時,往往成為臺灣被世界看見的重要時刻。然而,每次期待往往都伴隨著失望。
2013 年的世界棒球經典賽中,臺灣代表隊曾差點擊敗日本隊,那場比賽成為許多臺灣棒球迷的遺憾。如今,那批站在球場上的選手成為了 2024 年代表隊的教練團。他們帶領一支平均年齡不到 25 歲的年輕隊伍,在十一月的十二強賽,前進東京巨蛋,並且首次擊敗日本隊,奪得世界冠軍。這不僅是臺灣棒球的歷史性時刻,更是臺灣首次在成人棒球殿堂中完封日本職業隊。
這場勝利雖然可喜,但臺灣選手更渴望的是從日本學習,了解日本成為棒球強國的原因,並全面提升自己的實力。他們不僅希望再次打敗日本,更希望透過努力,站穩國際舞台,用實力延續臺灣棒球的榮耀。
臺灣隊隊長陳傑憲在比賽中一次跑壘時,雙手在胸前比劃,似乎在提醒:臺灣球衣上缺少了什麼。當我們將目光投向其他國家的球衣時,才發現,臺灣的球衣上缺少的正是自己的國名。
《神隱少女》的主題再次浮現在我腦海:「如果忘記了自己的名字,就會找不到回家的路。」對臺灣而言,這句話的意義格外深刻——他們也在努力找回那個無法光明正大顯示出來的名字。
作為一個臺灣人,我常覺得這片土地上的人帶著一點自卑。當外國人能準確拼出「Taiwan」,甚至知道它的地理位置,臺灣人會顯得異常興奮——因為過去太多次,我們被誤認為泰國,只因為名字發音相近。
如果你讀完這篇文章,了解了這些背景,希望你能在生活中遇到臺灣人時,給予他們一些鼓勵。因為,這群人真的太需要被認同了。
未來如果你有機會來到臺灣,這裡有許多值得探索的美好。
你可以漫步在台北的大稻埕老街,感受百年老屋與現代文化並存的獨特氛圍;
你可以站上阿里山的山巔,欣賞晨曦穿透雲海的壯麗景色;
你可以走進白色恐怖景美紀念園區,追尋臺灣走過艱辛民主化的軌跡;
你可以品嚐魯肉飯、牛肉湯,以及深夜裡讓人垂涎三尺的鹽酥雞與胡椒餅。
這座島嶼的小吃如同它的歷史,複雜、多元,卻有著令人難以抗拒的魅力。這裡的風景如同它的居民,謙遜內斂,但永遠渴望著與世界交朋友。
臺灣期待你的到來,來看看這裡的美,來聽聽這裡的故事。因為每個造訪的人,都是臺灣與世界連結的希望。
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2024 臺灣隊奪冠,創下這些紀錄:
首次打進12強冠軍戰
首次擊敗全職業日本隊
首次在國際三大賽(奧運、經典賽、12強)拿下冠軍
一級國際賽首次完封古巴隊(預賽2:0擊敗古巴隊)
一級國際賽21年來首次擊敗美國隊(複賽8:2擊敗美國隊)
對全職業日本隊首次單場得超過3分(複賽6:9敗給日本隊,改寫最高得分)
12強隊史第1發滿貫砲(對南韓隊2局下,陳晨威敲滿貫砲)
12強隊史首次單局2轟(對南韓隊2局下,陳晨威、陳傑憲開轟)
12強隊史兩度單局2轟(加上決賽對日本5局上,林家正、陳傑憲開轟)
12強隊史首次全部野手都敲出安打
1 comment
The best article I have ever read and I am almost eighty years old!
The author not only has great knowledges but has super writing skills. Not only that, he has other skill for living!