The waning era of Taiwan’s traditional markets
One of Taiwan’s most iconic cultural features is its traditional markets. They date back to before the Japanese colonial era, when they were critical hubs for commerce and socializing. For many older adults today, traditional markets are still the preferred place to buy fresh produce. But with the passage of time, traditional markets have become less prominent in everyday life, falling behind to competitors like global retailers and big-box stores. Today, traditional markets face a reckoning like never before. In this first installment of our Sunday special report, we meet vendors who keep the old markets alive, all while striving to adapt to a brave new world.
It’s the early morning hours, and most people are still struggling to get out of bed. But here, tucked away in an alley, this traditional food market is already pulling up the shutters for a day of transactions.
One merchant nimbly scales a fish, the crisp sound of the scaler cutting through the hair.
Another rhythmically pounds pork chops, tenderizing them to perfection.
The sound of seasoned merchants hawking their produce can be heard all around.
Merchants smile at passersby while a medley of aromas permeates the air. This is the traditional market we are all familiar with.
Hsu Chieh-hsing
Assistant professor
Our traditional markets emerged some time during the Qing dynasty. They were open-air stalls lining the road. Farmers would squat down along the roadside, selling their wares. For example, they would sell peanuts, adzuki beans and household essentials. Of course, they also had fish and vegetables. When the Japanese came to Taiwan, they noticed these stalls were uncovered, which in the heat of Taiwan’s summers was not very sanitary. So they reformed them.
After the start of the Japanese colonial era, stall keepers were forced to reform. The Japanese authorities implemented rules and established a system for regulating markets. Later in the 1960s, the KMT government included markets in city planning programs, and public markets emerged throughout the country. Those who visited the markets formed connections there, and shared in the experiences of older generations. Those experiences are part of a rich cultural story.
Hsu Chieh-hsing
Assistant professor
At these markets, people would talk about everything. This was one of the special characteristics of Taiwanese traditional markets — the warmth and human touch.
Fuzhou Noodle Shop, which is already in its fifth generation of ownership, opened for business during the Japanese colonial era. The owner, Chao Shan-chi 趙善棋, began working alongside his parents at eight years old. Although time has changed the appearance of the shop, Chao’s feelings toward the market have never changed. From the moment he was born, his life was inextricably tied to this place.
Chao Shan-chi
Noodle shop owner
Before we used to cook in large woks — there were two large woks over there. My mother had me right here, so I’m a true local at Taichung Second Market.
For Chao, who is now in his 60s, time has passed in the blink of an eye. After decades of cooking noodles, he has finally set down the ladle, passing that baton on to his son. These days his son is at the front of the shop cooking while he wraps wontons in the back. Each wonton is wrapped to the perfect size, and there is no shortage of hungry mouths showing up to sample them.
Decades-old markets are not just a thing of southern and central Taiwan. In the north as well, there is no shortage of such markets.
Having married into the trade 30 years ago, Cheng Shu-ying learned butchery from her husband’s family, and has been at it now for nearly three decades. She selects and cuts meat with the greatest attention to detail.
Cheng Shu-ying
Butcher
My father-in-law began selling pork at 17. Today he is in his 80s — so it’s been more than 60 years. My husband is the third generation of butchers in his family, and my son is now learning the trade from us.
Whether a customer wants sliced meat, chopped meat, shredded meat, or meat with skin removed, market butchers do everything they can to meet a request. And customers who can’t cook need not worry. While waiting on their order, they can get cooking tips from the masters.
This is part of the fun of shopping at markets, and what convinces people to keep returning.
But then, in 1969, Taiwan got its first supermarket — the Ximen Supermarket. After that, the number of traditional markets began to decline, as more and more supermarkets sprouted up around the country.
In a bright, clean environment, supermarkets display goods in a systematic layout, offering a wealth of choice. They make it easy for shoppers to find products and compare prices. With the advent of supermarkets, Taiwan consumers got longer business hours and parking lots, as well as a variety of ways to pay. In contrast, traditional markets seemed dark, dirty, and inflexible. Supermarkets were especially popular with younger consumers.
Chen Shih-hui
Economics ministry official
We were affected by a broader trend. Customer demand dictates customer behavior. The customer wants a sanitary environment with good standards and quality products. They want shopping times that suit their work schedule. These demands constituted an external shock to the industry.
Traditional markets fell short of what shoppers came to expect. More recently, with the emergence of online shopping, traditional markets have fallen even more behind in the race for customers.
Chen Kuan-wen
Institute for Information Industry
What customers today want is a personalized experience. Especially because of the pandemic, a large proportion of consumers have shifted to online shopping. Whether on an e-commerce platform or manufacturers’ official Web sites, many consumers — a very large number of customers — have started shopping from their cellphones.
Working at a traditional market requires long hours, and comes with almost no prestige. These days, these markets suffer from a labor shortage, as young adults eschew the line of work. With the cards stacked against them, traditional markets have to get creative to stay in business.
Surrounded by historical buildings in the heart of Taipei’s Datong District, Dalong Market was once housed in a building made of concrete mixed with sand. Following the government’s urban renewal program in 2015, the building became the first eco-friendly building nationwide to house a traditional market.
Today we are with Wu Pi-chiao of the Dalong Market Autonomous Association to talk about how traditional markets can diversify.
Wu Pi-chiao
Dalong Market Autonomous Association
This is our entrance here — you can see the four characters for “Dalong Market.” Together with the Confucius Temple and the Baoan Temple, we form a series of cultural heritage sites. We need to meaningfully demonstrate that connection, so the use of black here brings out that meaning.
Inside, the market has been divided into sections: fresh food on the right, and snacks and dry foods on the left. Walking into the fresh-foods section, one notices the absence of the smells that usually fill the air at traditional markets.
At each stall, waste water is collected and garbage is separated — there is none of the usual blood splattered about, and none of the usual foul smells. There is also no waste water mucking up the wood-printed tiles.
Fresh food is kept in refrigerated glass cabinets, keeping it from spoiling. In short, there is nothing here resembling the unsanitary impressions people have of traditional markets. Here, the market has taken on a wholly modern appearance.
Located on Taipei’s Hangzhou South Rd, the Nanmen Market is a showcase for the innovation of market vendors. For example, this fish seller has abandoned the traditional tile counter for displaying fish, and replaced it with an ice-filled porcelain boat. All manner of fresh seafood are laid out here on a bed of ice.
Both freshness and sanitation are prioritized. When a customer is ready to buy, the seller collects the fish on a large tray and takes it to the back of the stall to clean and package.
Overhead as well are signs of innovation. Studio lights are installed above most stalls, lighting up the faces of the vendors and encouraging visitors to shop.
Payment methods here are also wide and varied, so visitors are not forced to pay in cash. With a simple scan of a barcode, purchases can be made digitally with a cellphone — satisfying the needs of trendy youth.
Traditional markets go back as far as the Qing Dynasty and are an inextricable part of Taiwanese culture. The warm human interactions they host are something modern supermarkets simply can’t provide. To survive in the modern era, many traditional markets are racing to reinvent themselves. But it’s not easy, and in the process of reinvention, markets can start to lose some of their most precious qualities. That’s next time on “Old Markets in a New World: Part II.” Join us next Sunday.
2021-08-08
