 Discovery Taiwan, which means terrible people of the western world know this island as Formosa, meaning beautiful. The name given to it by Portuguese mariners who first sighted it in 1519. Flying like an emerald leaf in the vast eastern Pacific basin, Formosa, with its more than 10 million people, is about the size of our state of Maryland. The island has but two real seasons, a short rainy winter and a long humid summer cooled by seasonal winds, some of which reach typhoon intensity. Formosa has known many masters over the centuries. In 1634, the Dutch made a brief attempted colonization and in the city now known as Tainan, built this rugged stone fortress called Zelandia. The Chinese patriot, General Kaksinga, drove out the Dutch in 1661 and for a time re-established Taiwanese independence. With the death of General Kaksinga in 1683, the island fell under the rule of the Manchu dynasty. In 1894, a dispute over control of Korea arose with Japan. In the ensuing war, the Japanese armies easily vanquished the poorly equipped and trained Chinese. To the victor belongs the spoils. Taiwan and her small neighboring island, the Pescadores, were ceded to Japan as a partial indemnity payment in the Treaty of 1895. The Japanese, who then controlled the island until the close of World War II, called it the land of high mountains. Despite the many outside influences over the centuries, the Formosans have remained truly Chinese. There has been no intermarriage with the island aborigines and very little with the Japanese. Today they are a pure, vigorous and vital race. Their dialects and customs are but little altered from those of their ancestors in Phukien province on the China mainland. All of her many colorful names, beautiful, Paris bay, land of high mountains, can present but a surface glimpse of Taiwan. For her real destiny is in the hearts of her people. Today they stand alone as the home and last hope of free China. Bone and lifeblood of Formosa is agriculture. Nowhere else in Asia is the farmer more happy and prosperous. For now, a government sponsored system of land reform has made it possible for the tenant farmers to buy their farms. The landowners receive 70% of the value of the land in cash. The remainder in the form of stocks in government-owned industries. Thus today, the Taiwan farmer's proudest boast is always this. For the first time in his life, he owns the soil on which he works. Nearly every farmer has his patient slow-moving water buffalo to help him turn the earth. Water fowl are always plettable, or duck, prepared in any of a hundred different ways, is a delicacy on any Chinese menu. With American advice and technical assistance, Formosa is rapidly becoming an agricultural show window for all of Southeast Asia. Her land areas are limited, and to keep pace with the ever-growing population, farming methods must constantly be improved to give a higher crop yield. The average farm family of seven working adults and numerous small children subsists unbelievably on three acres of ground. Nowhere else on earth is the land so intensively cultivated. Not a single square foot of fillable soil is wasted. Rice, of course, is the staple food of the people and the nation's number one crop. The island's subtropical climate is so ideal for its growth that in many areas, two crops a year can be harvested with an annual total of more than two million tons. Taiwan is unique among Asian countries in that she grows more rice than she needs. Two hundred thousand tons a year are exported to Japan and Southeast Asia. Rice needs besides plenty of water, much backbreaking hand cultivation. There is a folk song popular among Asian people, the refrain of which goes, Planting rice is never fun. Bend your back till setting sun. The choicest rice on earth, called fat lie, is grown by these methods in these fields. Taiwan cane sugar is known and used around the world. It is the island's leading export crop and brings in over one hundred million U.S. dollars a year, more than one half of the total export revenue. Half a million people live on the proceeds of the sugar industry, most of them farmers who plant under contract to the Taiwan Sugar Corporation. During the harvest season, every member of the farmer's family works in the fields, cutting and bringing in the sugar cane. The work day begins at sunrise and ends at dark. No small farmer can afford cutting machinery, a tractor or a truck. His only power tools are his family and the good muscles of his back and arms. For transportation to the sugar mills, he relies on the ponderous, slow-moving water buffalo. The farmers of free China have come far in ten short years. Despite limited land areas and lack of modern machinery, they are now able to produce ample food for all the island's people and even export the surplus to other, less fortunate countries. No beggars ever roam the city streets, for famine and hunger are now unknown on Taiwan. During these pioneer years of development and modernization, America is playing an important role in her progress, not only in rural areas, but also in industry. Have you ever wondered what happens to your old car after its youthful life has ended? The answer might well be here at the Tong Ying Ironworks in the city of Gaoshuang in southern Taiwan. Here, scrap metal purchased from the United States is re-smelted into the hundreds of steel items needed by a young and growing nation. Nails, wire, construction steel. Even the frame of the student's bicycle might have once been part of the frame of your 1940 Chevrolet. The fires in the Tong Ying furnaces ever died. In the last decade, melted scrap metal has enriched the Formosa economy with more than 100,000 tons of quality steel per year. Never in history has there been a shortage of labor in the Orient. For hundreds of years, the Chinese have devised ingenious methods of replacing heavy machinery with mass human muscle. Now more than ever is this true on Formosa, as a flood tide of thousands of refugees from the mainland pours over the island in the hopes of finding work in one of the new industries. And work is found for all who come. In 10 years, more than 6,600 new factories of all kinds have been built, and all are expanding and prospering. This mushrooming of industrialization has raised the Formosa standard of living to a place in the Orient, second only to that of Japan. Petroleum was discovered in Taiwan long before the First Oil Strike in Pennsylvania. Yet for over a hundred years, this priceless resource laid dormant and untapped. Even as late as 1947, only one small crude oil distillation plant was in operation. Today, the Chinese petroleum company operates three large distillation units, as well as the thermal cracking unit for the production of high-octane gasoline. Other units recover and refine as high products of petroleum, once wasted. These include coal tar, asphalt, kerosene, mineral oil, and chemical dyes. Oil traditionally used in past centuries to keep the flickering lamps burning. Now turns a wheel of industry and powers the jet planes of free China. Nowhere is the Chinese workman's skill with his hands more evident than in Formosa's cottage industries. These thousands of miniature factories, often owned and operated by members of a single family, are an essential part of the country's economy. Building material industries are expanding to keep pace with the boom and new construction. Factories dot the countryside, especially in the southern and central areas of the island. Here, women workers display the skill and strength of men as they move the heavy carts about. Wet bricks are first sun-dried on outdoor racks, then heat cured in huge kilns. Final delivery to the building contractor is accomplished with the old, reliable ox cart. Charcoal factories are a small but important industry in cities and villages where wood and twigs for the kitchen fires are scarce. Bamboo trays full of corn starch are set out to dry each morning. By evening, the sun and wind have evaporated the thick liquid to a powder to be packaged and made into puddings and confections around the world. Unmarried girls when working out of doors cover themselves from head to foot in sun-protecting clothing. Only their smiling eyes show from beneath the woven bamboo coolly hats perched upon their closely wrapped heads. Homemade egg noodles drying on bamboo racks by the roadside may not tempt the appetite in this form, but when simmered together with freshly cut cabbage and a savory chicken broth, it's an outdoor cafeteria-style banquet for the children of Taiwan. Colorship, long a badge of universal esteem for the Chinese, is now available to everyone. Gone forever are the feudal times when only the children of the rich could afford to be educated. Today, with free tuition, modernized teaching methods, and such added incentives as field trips and audio-visual aids, more than 95% of Taiwan's younger generation attend schools. Boys and girls in school uniforms love to visit historical landmarks such as the museum which houses relics of General Kok Shinga's reign. But, even as in America, the increase in students has raced far ahead of school-building construction. In fulfilling the eager search for knowledge, classrooms operate on a three-shift-a-day basis. Schools open at 7 o'clock in the morning and close at 8 in the evening. As a result, not only basic literacy but higher education as well is becoming a way of life to the Taiwanese. Even remote farm families have children away at a college or university. Taiwan's birth rate is among the highest in the world, and the temple courtyards make fine playgrounds for the children. Overhead the frowns and savage grimaces of legendary Chinese fairies and dragons frighten away the evil spirits. Taiwanese are followers of Buddhism, the greatest and gentlest of the many oriental religions. Like numerous other forms of worship, Buddhism teaches that mankind's fate in the hereafter is influenced by his conduct while on earth. The veneration of idols, burning of incense, and the offering of sacrifices is a part of the daily life of every Taiwan Buddhist family. The replicas of the kitchen god and various other good-much charms are found in every native home. Christianity, however, is known and respected throughout the island, and missionary work is expanding. Mission schools and seminaries are teaching classes of native ministers to take over the work of bringing Christianity to their fellow men. Sunday morning services at the village church are well attended, for here on Taiwan, the people's right to worship the religion of their choice is one of the basic freedoms. A program of self-government adopted from Dr. Soniat Sen's book, Principles of Democracy, was instituted on Taiwan in 1950. Local magistrates, councilmen, and assemblymen are elected every two years. Here in this impressive building in Taipei are headquartered both the provincial government of Taiwan and the central government of the Republic of China. Taipei, the capital and largest city of Taiwan, was founded by the Manchus, who, in a proved Chinese fashion of the times, promptly built a wall around it. During Japan's 50 years of rule, however, the wall was largely destroyed, and only the south gate now stands as a memento of days long past. At the center of town, broad, tree-shaded avenues with multiple traffic lanes reflect western influence. It starts contrasts to the narrow, winding, cobblestone streets of ancient China. The ugly outlines of bomb shelter entrances disfigure many otherwise picturesque streets, a grim reminder of the constant threat of armed aggression. Motion pictures from the United States, Japan, and Hong Kong are shown throughout the island in more than 500 theaters. On the site of an abandoned Shinto shrine in Taipei stands the Grand Hotel, built by the Taiwan Provincial Government. Brilliantly lacquered columns and many tiered pagoda-style roofs reminiscent of Peking's forbidden city surround the Golden Dragon Way. Here, the visiting dignitary or diplomat may enjoy all the comforts of home, wherever his home might be, including a gourmet's choice of fine oriental and western foods. Kipling once wrote, never the twain shall meet. But here on Taiwan, the traditions and customs of west and east blend into a harmonious and tranquil way of life. A shopkeeper smiles with pleasure at our interest in his colorful works of art, open-air restaurant, a water chestnut vendor, ancient China. Across the street, the new station hotel entertains travelers from around the world with modern western-style hospitality. Teaming side street, a candy man shapes a sweetened almond paste into picturesque little birds and animals, full for only a few cents each, are admired for a time, then eaten in sticky enjoyment. Mighty sounds of drum and flute clear the thronging streets. Led by a juggler, musicians, and many scrolls of tribute and elaborate flower pieces, a funeral procession passes by. Many of the mourners are professionals, hired for the occasion, and have no connection or relationship with the deceased. Others, of course, are sincerely bereaved. Features hidden by a sackcloth covering, the chief mourners hold on to a length of muslin to avoid going astray. For the procession must wind through many miles of city streets and country roads on the way to the gravesite. It is heavy and cumbersome, and its 32 carriers signify to onlookers that the honored deceased was a person of great wealth and influence. Public transportation is plentiful and cheap on Taiwan. A network of highways, railroads, and civil airlines offers fast and reliable service to all parts of the island. The Taiwan Provincial Railway operates 675 trains, carrying a daily total of some 300,000 passengers and 50,000 tons of freight. To handle the constantly increasing flow of traffic, the provincial government is rebuilding roadbeds, highways, and bridges, and improving equipment and station facilities. The demand for bus travel has increased tenfold in the last decade, as construction of new roads brings national parks and recreation areas with an easy reach of a travel-hungry public. Spring and autumn pagodas in southern Taiwan are a favorite for outdoor parties and picnics, and are easily accessible by a short bus ride from Gaoshuang. During the last two years, the 120-mile east-west highway has been completed, joining the China Sea to the Pacific Ocean. This sky-high roadway crosses the towering 10,000 foot passes of the Central Mountain Range and winds its snaky trail through Turoco Gorge, comparable in scenic splendor to California's Yosemite. 5,000 Chinese and Taiwanese laborers working only with hand tools and an insurmountable will carve 35 tunnels through the hard granite mountain sides. Five modern bridges span the cavernous valleys and ravines. Millions of dollars in natural resources, formerly inaccessible, are now within reach. New and untapped industrial power from the great lakes of the region, the hardwood forests and rich grazing areas of the highlands, fertile black soil of the lowlands, waiting only for the farmer's plow. The door is open. The sacrifices have been made. Worked for Taiwan, though you dream of the mainland, was the slogan of those who built the road, and are the words inscribed on the monument in memory of the men who gave their lives to make this dream a reality. The 20th century is the beginning of many things, not only of atoms and space travel, but more important of a worldwide renaissance in the field of human relations. Here on this island, Americans have the opportunity and the privilege to participate in the most noble of all mankind endeavors, to provide leadership and assistance to a young nation struggling for its self-sufficiency in a pre-world. For today, Taiwan is again on the way to becoming China, but a China with a difference. The people of the island are united in a common resolve, that they will not rest until they have fulfilled their destiny, the restoration of human dignity, and the establishment of their rightful place in the world's family of free nations.