National Geographic January-December 1969 I-II. [antikvár]

January 196g HAL GEOGIf^raOC THE NATIONAL GEOORAPHIC MAGAZINE VOL. 135, NO. 1 COPYRIGHT © 1968 BY NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC SOCIETY, WASHINGTON. 0. C. INTERNATIONAL COPYRIGHT SECURED TAIWAN The Watchful Dragon Article and photographs by HELEN and FRANK SCHREIDER National Geographic Foreign Staff The incredible thing is that it exists. It lies in the Pacific, a brave speck in the shadow of a colossus, only 100 miles from its implacable enemy—the world's most populous country, 700 million strong. For nearly 20 years the Communists on rpain-land China and the Nationalists on Taiwan have waged their quiet war. Taiwan must be as tightly run as a battleship, I thought as we flew into Taipei. In a continual state of war, the island must be an austere place to live. Austere? Hardly, though to judge by the machine-gun-like explosions reverberating through Taipei's streets, the quiet war had erupted into a shooting one. "Firecrackers," laughed Chang, our driver. "Big holiday. Birthday of Dr. Sun Yat-sen, father of China. Big dragon dance at City Hall." Chang raced the hired car away from the palatial Grand Hotel and penetrated the bedlam of traffic along Chungshan North Road. Exhaust fumes clouded the air. Cars, buses, and taxis clogged the four-lane boulevard. Taipei was suffering the pangs of progress. "Few years ago only rice fields here," Chang said, waving toward the new high-rise hotels and office buildings. "Now too much cars. Too much motorcycles. Terrible, sir." A taxi tried a left turn from the right lane. Chang cut him off with a glare. A motorcycle, all but hidden under its passengers, darted from a cross street, father, mother, two babies, dog in box on fender, all blissfully oblivious to the outraged horns. A broom vendor halted his bristling pushcart and haggled in the middle of the street with a customer. Chang swerved and sped across the new overpass into the old Japanese-built section of town. Pedicabs scurried like spiders through shop-lined alleys (they have been banned since last June as traffic hazards). Wares overflowed onto the sidewalks—refrigerators, rice cookers, television sets, textiles, a bewildering array of plastic toys and utensils, all Taiwan-made. Restaurants advertised the typical food of every province of mainland China. Medicine shops prescribed dried sea horses for virility and snake glands for the eyes. Talented Dragon Steals the Show We arrived in City Hall square with the dragon. Drums, cymbals, and a shattering blast of firecrackers announced him, a 100-foot-long, 30-manpower dragon of red-and-gold silk and papier-mâché. He postured coyly and slyly, fearsomely playful, turning his 1