{"id":4288,"date":"2024-02-26T22:56:07","date_gmt":"2024-02-26T14:56:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ourtown.tw\/%e6%9c%aa%e5%88%86%e9%a1%9e\/4288\/"},"modified":"2024-05-24T15:52:44","modified_gmt":"2024-05-24T07:52:44","slug":"%e8%81%b2%e5%90%8d%e5%a4%a7%e5%99%aa%ef%bc%8d%e5%b7%a6%e7%87%9f%e8%88%8a%e5%9f%8e%e7%89%b9%e6%ae%8a%e9%96%80%e9%a1%8d","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ourtown.tw\/en\/culture\/city-wall\/4288\/","title":{"rendered":"Making a Name\u2013Distinctive Lintel Plaques in the Old Town"},"content":{"rendered":"
<\/p>\n

by Luis<\/p>\n

<\/div>

<\/p>\n

Chinese buildings are never complete without lintel plaques. They show up in one form or another at temples, public buildings, bridges, tunnel entrances, private residences, and even headstones. This is another way to manifest the ethos that best represents the venue on which the plaque is placed. The north gate here in the Old Town, Zuoying, was christened “Polaris Gate,” suggesting its majestic prominence. As for private properties, Chinese traditional practice tells us that the clan’s name is always preferred. The name of a clan certainly reflects the place of origin of a family; and this is how Chinese people trace their lineage to honor their ancestors. As a general, a handful of families from the same geographical region will share the same clan’s name. In southeast Asian countries where Chinese immigrants are prevalent, lintel plaques are the best reminder of their wandering past. On special holidays such as the tomb sweeping festival, some overseas Chinese even go to great lengths to return to their ancestral shrines back in China. This is to go back to “their roots” to pay tribute to their own forefathers. Such tradition speaks volumes about the Chinese philosophy of family.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\"LINE_ALBUM_0224

<\/div>

Lintel plaques in the Old Town<\/h4>
<\/p>\n

Nonetheless, here in the Old Town things took an interesting turn. Some plaques are nowhere to be found in China; names like Mei-kuei (\u6885\u9b41), Hong-shi (\u9d3b\u79a7), Chi San Chia (\u7a4d\u5584\u5bb6), Ching Yow Yu (\u6176\u6709\u9918). But why did they switch to a brand-new clan name? Can there be an unspeakable secret behind? It all sounds too unusual for a community that emphasizes family concept over anything else. We know today that the Old Town has a history of nearly four hundred years as a Chinese settlement; and up until today there are still many families that hold firmly onto their original clan’s name. Unfortunately, not even the descendants of those families with new clan names have the slightest idea why at some point their ancestors decided to “leave the tradition behind” and “start a whole new chapter.” Such disparity triggered the curiosity of scholars as well as the locals. And for many years nobody knew the answer, until someone decided to crack the “Enigma code.”<\/p>\n

<\/div>

Cracking the code<\/h4>
<\/p>\n

Liao Teh Chong (transliteration) was raised in one of those households with “special lintel plaques.” He and his teammates turned to oral history and registration documents to shed light on this peculiar rarity in the neighborhood. On one occasion, the information obtained during an interview came to a deadlock, and it seemed to be the end of the road. But suddenly an inspiration came to Liao. Being at the house of the interviewee, he asked for permission to check the ancestral tablet on the shrine to “go further back in time.” The Chinese write the names of their forefathers on the tablet that represents their ancestors, thus worshiping such a tablet is a symbolic gesture of honoring them. In just a few minutes, Liao “met everyone” throughout the generations, from the most recent ones to those in the Qing dynasty. Another effective tool at hand was the household registration document dating back to the Japanese colonial era (1895-1945). These hand-written papers turned out to be surprisingly accurate despite being a century old; after all, the Japanese are famous for being meticulous in everything they do. By doing some cross comparison and scrutinizing through a pile of records and documents, Liao was finally able to sketch a rough picture of the life of their early ancestors. Many details became clear; such as where they came from, who they married, and when certain events happened. The task was not that difficult at all, but it was tedious and time consuming for an amateur. Mr. Liao is currently a land measurement cartographer by profession, and undoubtedly things from his office contributed quite a lot to the outcome of his research. By overlapping ancient maps on a modern Google map, he was able to see how the town evolved into what we see today. Furthermore, the corroboration of current property owners validated the accounts of interviewees, since it became clear who sold the land to whom.<\/p>\n

<\/div>

Continuity of the lineage<\/h4>
<\/p>\n

The Chinese community is a patriarchal society; thus, the continuity of the family is only possible through a male heir, who bears the family name. In families where male offsprings are not born, an unconventional measure would have to be taken. Uxorilocal marriages and child adoptions were the predominant practices of the time to extend the lineage. However, in many cases the males involved find it difficult to come to terms with their dishonorable plight in a community where everyone else is “different.” Those who eventually “fought their way out” by becoming a prominent figure had always grabbed the opportunity to make a name for themselves. <\/p>\n

<\/div>

Making a name for himself<\/h4>
<\/p>\n

Unquestionably, building a big house with a special lintel plaque was really an eye-catching distinction. By the standards of the time, these opulent houses were a huge contrast compared to those flimsy huts that ordinary people could afford. In a time of austerity, this uniqueness speaks volumes by delivering a clear message, “I had it my way.” Maybe this can be seen as a “compensation for the suffered losses.”  Now that money was no object, in terms of material and craftsmanship, everything was top notch and slightly overbuilt. This helps explain why after more than a century there are still a few of them around, when most of the ancient houses in the Old Town can only last for ninety years at most. But it seems that these individuals were determined to sever all kinds of ties with their ancestors back in China since the special lintel plaques can no longer indicate the origin of their lineage. Since chances of returning home back in China were extremely rare, this “renaissance” echoed the mentality of most pioneers that made their way across the Taiwan strait to resettle in a new land with a brand-new identity.<\/p>\n

<\/div>

Old houses in a modern time<\/h4>
<\/p>\n

Fortunately, some current owners of these relics are making an effort to maintain their ancestral houses for different reasons. And to the delight of culture and history lovers, some of them were converted into B&Bs, restaurants, and shops. Sustainability is now the decisive factor for the future of these vanishing pages in the history of the Old Town. Every time you buy something from these venues, you’re in fact helping them to continue the awesome job of perpetuating the time capsule so that someone else can embark on a journey into the past.<\/p>\n

<\/div>

<\/p>\n

In hindsight, it was in fact the predicament that fueled their struggle to do better than others, and even exceed the expectations of the people around them. To put it differently, these special lintel plaques are the badge of honor for the first house owners. In today’s cyber language, we should click a thumbs up to the unsung heroes who were seen as losers in those days.<\/p>\n

<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/section>