中文

A Paiwan Fairy Tale

Kunaljau and the Fragrant Flower Garland

Once upon a time, a newlywed couple trekked across the mountains all the way from East Taiwan to the South of the island, until they reached a place named Kulasa. Then the woman said to her husband, “Here the trees are high, the grass is green, and there’s plenty of water. Let’s make our home here.” The man replied, “Yes, that sounds like a great idea! It looks as if there’s plenty of prey here as well.” Not long afterwards, their first daughter, Alisu, was born. She would listen with her eyes wide open as Mother sang her lullabies, and she brought her parents much joy. But one day the little girl ran a high fever, and after a few days of illness she died to the heartbreak of her parents. Her mother began to pray for more children.

“Oh Spirits, look at this beautiful place we’re in. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could have many children to cultivate this place together and lead prosperous lives?” The Spirits didn’t turn a deaf ear to her prayers, and, one after the other, she gave birth to three boys who all grew up to become healthy men.

One day, the three brothers discovered a new place together, quiet and beautiful. This was Kulaulau, or Kunaljau, which the Paiwan refer to as the place of their origin. “Mother,” they said upon their return, “there are lots of animals to hunt in that place, there are tall trees and pristine rivers—it’s even better than here!” The eldest brother went on, “Mother, in that place, every day when the sun comes up it shines on the summits and the valleys. It’s much warmer there than here. Let’s go and live there!” The second brother also tried to persuade her, supported by the youngest, “Mother, the birds sing even more beautifully in that place than here!”

But their mother would always shake her head and say, “Well, you go then, but don’t ask me to come with you. I can’t bear the thought of leaving this place.”

Only after pleading with their parents many more times did the boys finally manage to convince them to go. But now there was a new problem: every time they wanted to move, their beloved little dog would hide behind the house, refusing to go with them no matter how much they tried to coax it. “You three just go ahead! We will stay here and keep the dog company. And besides, your sister Alisu would be terribly lonely if we all left,” so the old couple told their sons.

At last, the three brothers went to Kunaljau on their own and settled down there. One day, Lemeeya, the second eldest, carved an assortment of beautiful knife sheaths for his two brothers. Also, to drive away the cold, he made a fire of the shavings. A comfortable warmth radiated from the mixture of flames and thick smoke that was now rising to the heavens. High up in the World of the Spirits, Juineeho was busy hanging clothes out to dry, when she saw smoke rising from the mountains far below. Her curiosity was aroused, and so she went down to have a closer look. “Eh! Who are you, and where did you come from?” Lemeeya’s eyes were wide with surprise as he stared at the girl who was holding little millet stalks in her hand. “I come from the World of the Spirits,” she replied, “the home of the Creator of All.” “So, what did you come here for?” “I just wanted to see what kind of food you have down here in the world of men…” “Well, we eat sweet potatoes, taro, millet…and such things,” Lemeeya declared, pointing at the small sweet potatoes and taros nearby. “Oh,” said Juineeho, “we have all these things, too, but we call them by different names. And where I come from, they grow much bigger and more plentiful!” Then she invited Lemeeya to visit her at her place in three days’ time. She told Lemeeya that he would have to rise early on the appointed day, before the sun got up, and burn a few millet stalks, because the only way to reach her place was to float up on the smoke of the fire.

Lemeeya did as he was told and reached Juineeho’s place. From that trip, he brought back some red goosefoot and pigeon peas, as well as sweet potatoes and taros of a particularly good variety. Juineeho told him to come back in ten days for the World of the Spirits’ Maleveq, or Five-Year Worship.

For the Maleveq celebrations, Juineeho had put on a garland that was studded with countless bright red flowers and emitting a subtle but sweet fragrance; and she was singing the most pleasant tunes with her undulating voice. This time, Lemeeya was given seeds of the same flowers that had been used to adorn Juineeho’s garland.

Meanwhile, the eldest brother, Doomeeya, was a master at masonry and the building of houses. Using the rocks and slabs of stone to be found in the mountains, he had built a wonderful house—the oldest home in all of Kunaljau. When Lemeeya brought back the seeds of the fragrant flower, he planted them deep in the mountains. The people of Kunaljau prospered and grew in number. Every time Maleveq came around, all the men and women would go up into the mountains to pick the fragrant flowers. “Be careful,” mothers would remind their daughters, “these flowers are very precious, they were a gift from a noble woman!” “They smell so good! But won’t they just wither and lose their fragrance if we pick them?” “Oh, no, on the contrary, once they’re wilted, they will smell even better!” the mothers would reply. And the men, who had gone up to the mountains to hunt, would take the flowers’ leaves and weave them into beautiful garlands, which they decorated with many little daisies. Then they would present them to the girl of their heart. To this day, the women of the Paiwan tribe wear meticulously woven garlands for every festive occasion, and revel in the sweet fragrance of the flowers—just like their ancestors did so long ago.

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