編輯室報告「喂！志學」關於行走這件事：我們旅居花蓮志學村東華大學城的四年｜Editorial Board Highlights：To Walk at a Pace of “Humans of Gihak”－The Journey Comprising Four Years of Studying in Dong Hwa University, Gihak Village, Hualien
《說文解字·阜部》：「隰，阪下濕也。」
還記得當時在網站命名的討論中，曾珍珍老師拋出一個令多數母語者也摸不著頭緒的字：「隰（ㄒㄧˊ）」，接著，緩緩地說出它的意思以及這個字與東華所處之地、氣象上的關聯，或許她當時還補充了幾個自己剛來這塊土地上時的除濕方法，或是幾首跟氣象方面有關的詩，然而存放情節與細節的大腦區塊已逐漸隨著時間遠去而慢慢變得零碎、不可靠，牢記在腦海中的，只剩曾老師一字一句肯定和緩的語調說出「志學」身為「濕氣很重的低地」這樣一個事實。
“Xí 隰 (“low, wet ground”), is a humid place lower than the hillside.”
From Xŭ Shèn’s Shuō wén jiě zì 說文解字 (100 A.D.)
I still can bring back the day we discussed the naming of this website. Professor Tseng wrote down an old Chinese word that was so strange even to a native speaker: “xí(隰).” And then, she told us what this word means and how it associates with the nature of the village we were staying—Gihak. Maybe she also gave us some details about how to dehumidify a room according to her own experience. Or maybe some poems related to humidity were given as well. Be that as it may, my memories have grown increasingly dim as some brain regions in which memories are stored have become unreliable. What remains sharp and clear in my mind is certain words said by Professor Tseng with care and firmness, being imprinted on my mind as a truth that has marked “Gihak(志學)” as a “low, wet ground.”
A snapshot of the road and mountain of Gihak Village || 志學村山景一隅
距花蓮市區南部十五公里的那片潮濕之地，有著非常容易聯想到《論語》的一個名字——「志學」。有志於學，將一座大學選在這塊土地上安放，似乎很順理成章，但來往的人大多沒有過問它名字的由來、它隆起的土丘與阡陌曾有什麼樣的人移墾棲居、它有什麼海的山的記憶和旋律跟隨著季節更迭播送。
而《Duet隰》這個平台的創作與編訪團隊之一——「喂！志學Humans of Gihak」，依傍這片土地而生，透過一次次往返行走於部落眷村田野和大學城及其近郊、抽繹出人與土地與自然的緊密連結。同為在異地流浪的我們，初來乍到時面對縱谷的狹與長、木瓜溪的寬與廣、開門即見的中央山脈近得如同電影中的特寫鏡頭，受到搖撼的心產生某種不可言喻的變化，腦中自然形成一個指令——行走。
因此，我們在志學透過行走，第一次知悉「志學」是從阿美族語「Gihak」（杜虹花[1]）而來，與《論語》無關。而今，身為與地同名、亦與地景同構的杜虹花，仍在街頭巷尾、校園灌叢中盛放盤踞。在知悉這地名來由之後，再次說出它的名字——「志學」，擺盪出的將不再只是介於兩個站牌之間的一處停泊點，而這片土地與人、人與自然、歷史和時代的一切，忽然隨著名字牽引出的敘事，變得濃稠而立體。「每講出一個名字，它就會再一次存在，同時也讓耆老有機會再講一次那個故事回到那段記憶裡。」[2]所以我們要去聽他/她/牠/它們的故事，必須要一個一個念出每一個人的名字、透過口述再次參與敘事者的人生踐履，名字與因應而生的敘事才不會被忘記。處於孤絕躊躇處境的異地學子轉而融入地誌書寫、紀實報導、一個又一個紛雜真實人生寫照和滄桑紋線背後的故事因應而生。
這期的編輯室報告，原本預計偕同「喂！志學」採訪團隊，用一場長長的漫走進行對這片潮濕之地最後的巡禮。然而正值畢業時節，迎接蟬聲漫天的夏季來臨前，斗然而來的疫情忽然使一切穿梭走訪和散策、學生食堂或K書中心見面時的互相叨念等等，都轉化成新的型態。
無法與畢業在即的團隊成員再次行走，不代表不能再次拜訪西瓜田的阿伯和志學街的理髮店阿姨、不能再次面朝那安穩不張揚的一方山海創作，但這些「不代表不能再次」的雙重否定卻也應證了所有的跌撞起落都能突如其來，時間的流逝也因此在感官經驗跨界的新生活中特別顯著。
疫情讓我們看到一件事：在步步驚心等待撥雲見日的日常裡，那些散策中的細膩的觀察以及課堂上慎思明辨的教誨，成為了看不清世界未來面貌而感到徬徨懷疑時的一劑強心針。於是，最終我們選擇透過互相訪談，回到最原初的、那個內心孤絕躊躇空無一物的狀態，回到開始慢慢被填滿又抽空、建構再解構的處境，召喚出這段我們稱為「旅居」的歲月裡所有關於行走於隰上的記憶，用筆、用相機、用談話，羅列與反芻志學之旅的驚喜、震動、疲累、痛苦、歡愉等等各種生命情境，回頭再次帶著當初的自己，在阡陌田野與街頭巷尾行走下去，直到自己變成田野，變成道路。
[1] 志學市區在清治時期都是阿美族部落範圍（黑特東華#22349，2018）。杜虹花又名台灣紫珠， 一種早先居民用以治療傷口的草藥，早期志學一帶長滿大量的杜虹花因而得名（張瓊文，2020）。
[2] 阿美族為口述的民族，文字是後來才有的東西。這段出自於「Lisoso′你說說工室」經營者之一Awa講述《Talacowa Kamo循山》這本經由太巴塱部落的Namoh Onor阿公，口述當年阿美族青壯年的強制徵召開疆闢土歷史的阿美族與繪本，Awa當時贈與參與者的一段文字。
That low, wet ground is situated about nine miles south of the downtown of Hualien. The name “Gihak (志學)” in Mandarin Chinese reminds native speakers of what we learned from Analects (Lun Yu) when we were little: “I had my mind bent on learning (2:4, Wei Zheng).” The name “Gihak,” passing down the ancient message from the Master, seems to be a proper name for a village with a research institution. However, most of us are a little fuzzy on the origin of its name and how settlements on small mounds and meandering paths were established and expanded. Most souls visiting this village hardly pay attention to what stories were told under the photogenic look from mountain ranges and the ocean. Therefore, “Humans of Gihak,” as one of the editorial teams of Duet, amble along those mounds and paths, gathering images and stories that have been parts of this village. College is what brought us here, but it’s “Humans of Gihak” that brought us together. We share the same first unforgettable impression as we were first faced with those lengthening shadows created by mountains alongside East Rift Valley, the broad and vast Yayung Mglu (Mugua River in Truku), and all the majestic view of the nature which fills most of the window. And this unforgettable impression brought us something we have never experienced before, something that made our brain give that irresistible order—WALK.
Therefore, we have gradually gained knowledge of Gihak by walking on its earth. It was also the first time we learned that the name “Gihak” actually stands for Formosan Blackberry[1] in Pangcah. Knowing the meaning behind the name, “Gihak” is now pronounced with sweet and intimate freshness as we walk through lanes and lands that are packed with Formosan Blackberries. The name now is linked to its history, its landscape, and souls that come and go over time. “When the name is called, its spirit will once again spin into existence. It’s also a chance for the elders to relive the memories by telling their own stories.” [2]That’s why his/her/its/their stories need to be told; that’s the only way to remember. By taking part in the process of storytelling, we headed into uncharted territory, which used to be a strange place crammed full of darkness, to begin an intricate exploration which imbues our journey with the warp and weft of personal stories and memories we gather and collect from the Village of Gihak.
We intended to take our final long stroll along the Gihak Street or into local communities like what we’ve done in the past few years, being in touch with the present of this village, getting to know people from different walks of life all living in the same environment, and feeling the beating of the nature through the breezy wind and curvy river which show their own particular irreplaceable vividness. However, as they say, the best laid plans of mice and men. After a year of virus-free bliss, Taiwan is suddenly in one of the world’s last places to face with the outbreak of pandemic. Every meeting and gathering that was once normal is now sharply restricted.
And so does ours.
It’s impossible to going for the last long walk and have a casual talk with locals as the old days; at this moment, we have seen the pandemic unfold all around Taiwan, including this place where Taiwanese often refer to as “Houshan (後山)”—the Back Mountains. All the communication, meeting, and gathering have switched to the virtual world in order to reduce the risk of infection. Being not able to walk again with members of the editorial team doesn’t mean that we can never see people we’ve encountered from the last few walks, people such as the farmer uncle who grows colorful rows of round, heavy watermelons along the Yayung Mglu riverbanks, and the local hairdresser who is a nice and wise aunt, willing to give us gems of sage advice. It doesn’t mean that we can never be connected from nature that surrounds us and transport those strong and sweet feelings through written word.
It’s been a bumpy road since learning how to live with the virus became a must do; however, the ongoing pandemic has taught us to appreciate what we learned from lessons professors had given us. Professors from the journey comprising of four consecutive years in Dong Hwa, like the majority of dedicated teachers around the world, continually strive to help their students in their journey for happiness and give us the tools to deal with life’s many challenges. In order to draw this four-year journey to a perfect end, I took the board members to go back to the very start of our journey. And instead of sitting at the edge of a local river, or sauntering through woodland close to home, we chose to sit down and have an interview with one another. In that interview, we sorted out all those happy and joyous events, stiffening and trembling instants, and shocking and tiring memories during what we refer to the college days in the Back Mountains a “journey.” We hope that by returning to all the thoughts and memories of the past, we could once again walk into the landscapes we were previously in and leave it a living name so that we can reach out and trace it within our mind in the future.
[1] The area of Gihak was occupied with Amis People under the Qing Dynasty (Hate NDHU#22349, 2018). Callicarpa formosana, also called Formosan Blackberry, is a medical plant which was used for injury in the early times. Gihak is named after this plant due to it having plenty of Formosan Blackberry in the earlier days.
[2] Pangcah is the language spoken and used by Amis People in Hualien. Amis People has oral history and the word came later. This sentence came from Awa, one of the owners of Lisoso Studio, talked about a book Talacowa Kamo. This book is about an older man from Kapah, Namoh Onor, who talked about his experience when he had been conscripted to blaze a trail. Awa gave the sentence to the participants.
東華校園內的杜虹花，攝影：劉仁宇 || Formosan Blackberries on campus in Dong Hwa University, photo: Ren-yu, Liu