My son Eli and I met up in Taiwan last week. He was eager to visit The Rainbow Village while we were in Taichung. Several reviews suggested it was too far off the beaten path to be worth the trip, but most people were highly enthusiastic.
I did a little research; sometimes the story of a place or object can imbue it with meaning. This story goes way back, and knowing the story made a difference to me. Huang Yung-Fu was born in 1924. During the Chinese Civil War he fought for Chiang Kai-shek, and in 1949, he followed their defeated leader to Taiwan.
Hundreds of villages sprang up throughout Taiwan, providing temporary military housing for the veterans like Huang Yung-Fu and their families. Some of the military villages had a thousand units or more. The temporary concrete houses became permanent homes for many.
They were small and drab and time took its toll on the buildings. Cities grew up around them, and the property became more valuable than the dwellings. Developers started buying up the land. Residents were offered compensation and relocation if they would agree to vacate.
Most veterans submitted, but Huang Yung-Fu resisted; he would not leave his home.
The old veterans’ community was gradually reduced to only 11 residences.
They wanted to tear down Huang Yung-Fu’s home too. So he picked up a paintbrush and began to paint…
…and paint…
…and paint.
Bit by bit, wall by wall, his colorful murals expanded to beautify all the remaining residences.
Local university students discovered Huang’s work and campaigned to save the village. What was left of the place became known as The Rainbow Village. Authorities eventually agreed that it should be preserved, and it has since become a designated cultural area.
Mr. Huang, referred to by many simply as Grandpa, is now 94 years old. At a little table you can purchase post cards, magnets, and other products based on his work, the proceeds of which must surely provide a good living.
Grandpa was napping when we got there, but we’re told he often touches up his work, keeping it fresh and bright.
I am in awe. With the help from local students, through his art, a fragile old man rescued his home from destruction and urban decay. He transformed his home into a vibrant tourist hotspot that also provides a good living.
Huang Yung-Fu has worked a kind of magic, real and powerful. He has turned this…
…into this.
As surely as Huang Yung-Fu was going to lose his home, we are going to lose ours. Imagine what would happen if writers and storytellers, visual and performing artists everywhere were to unleash their passion, channel their creative talents, and fearlessly use their superpowers to advocate action for environmental protection, humanitarian aid, civil rights and social justice. Artist Favianna Rodriguez says, “Change the culture, change the world.” She quotes Abraham Lincoln, who said, “Public sentiment is everything. With public sentiment, nothing can fail; without it, nothing can succeed.” It has happened before. Sinclair Lewis, Pete Seeger, Miriam Makeba, Elie Wiesel, Anne Frank, Diego Rivera, just for starters. It can happen again. And it’s now or never time.
All images and words ©2016 Naomi Baltuck.
Click here for more interpretations of The Weekly Photo Challenge: Magic.
The whole town turns out for Gallery Walk. Every shop and gallery in town serves refreshments and features local artists. People come out in droves, wearing their sequins and snowboots. 
I popped over to Annie Kaill’s and saw my sister’s painting, Holiday House, in the front window of the shop. This festive painting was on loan to the gallery from its owners. Someone I talked to said he overheard people praising the painting in St. Petersberg! My favorite art tells a story, and this one tells a story I know. Constance painted it as a gift for her neighbors Jeff and Terry. Look closely and you can see Jeff in his brown overalls on a ladder, putting up his Christmas lights. 
Jeff is the kind of neighbor every neighborhood wants and needs, but few are fortunate enough to have. When he mows his own lawn, he also cuts the grass of an elderly neighbor. If Constance comes home and finds her driveway shoveled, she can guess who did it. Constance met him for the first time decades ago, when she bought a sandbox for her kids out in the valley and it wouldn’t fit in her car. She recognized him and, not knowing what else to do, asked a stranger’s help transporting it in his pickup. It was all set up in her yard when she got home. On our visit to Juneau last summer he heard that my son Eli was interested in fishing, and offered to take him out on his boat. Jeff helped Eli land a thirty pound king salmon. It was the highlight of his trip–all of ours, really, because eight of us ate fresh King salmon every night and there was still some to share with the neighbors. 
Every year Jeff spends the weeks preceding Christmas putting up tens of thousands of lights on his house, and at least a dozen Santas and snowmen. His electric bill spikes each December, but the people of Juneau count on him to put some serious twinkle into their holiday. 
Some people save their treasures for heaven, but I think there’s a twinkle light shining on his house for each kindness Jeff has paid to others. They add up, all those little lights, and push back the darkness for us all.
Writing Between the Lines 
