ATTENTION! Oars snapped across laps. READY! Oars hovering above water, waiting to strike. One deep breath. A second, suspended in air. BWAAAAAAA! Blasted the air horn. Muscles became machines, churning, stabbing, thrashing forward, onward, unthinking. The current with us, the wind at our backs, 80 warriors astride four dragons, racing to victory.
Seven deep, long strokes to wake the dragon from aquatic slumber. 15 sprinting strokes to build momentum. Then as many sets of 20 as it took to win. One! Two! Three! Four! We bellowed in unison as we stabbed the water relentlessly. In seconds I was soaked in sweat and river water. The rhythm carried us forward through the murky blue river. Crowds lining both riverbanks waved and cheered.
I blinked, and the race was over, quick as it had begun. I wiped sweat from my brow and slumped forward, breathing heavily, heart racing. A sigh of relief whistled through the boat, as the adrenaline coursing through our veins ebbed. I’d hoped we’d be matched against fellow amateurs or maybe a team with a jittery captain who couldn’t steer, but no luck. As soon as we saw the other team’s sleek carbon fiber paddles and custom life jackets, we knew it wouldn’t be an easy race. Our opponents looked like they’d been born on the water. I like to think we’d be more successful on land.
We slowly paddled back to the dock, waving at the onlooking crowd. We saluted the judges and the crowds with our battle cry. Oars raised skyward, our captain shouted “This is HESS!” “HU! HU! HU!” we yelled. We made our way back to the dock as the next teams lined up at the starting line, ready to repeat the ritual.
I’d just competed in the Taipei International Dragon Boat Championships, the centerpiece of the Dragon Boat Festival in Taiwan. The Dragon Boat Festival is one of the most important traditional holidays in the Chinese calendar. According to legend, during the Warring States Period in ancient China (roughly 2300 years ago) there lived a renowned poet and royal advisor named Qu Yuan. When the kingdom fell to invaders, rather than submit to his enemies as a prisoner, Qu Yuan chose patriotic martyrdom and drowned himself in a river. Widely loved by the townsfolk, they raced out with their boats to save him, or at least retrieve his body to give him a proper funeral. They beat drums and splashed their oars to ward off evil spirits, and they dropped rice dumplings into the water to prevent fish from desecrating his body. This legend evolved over the years into the Dragon Boat Festival, where people race dragon boats, beat drums, and eat zongzi, or sticky rice dumplings. Because the Dragon Boat Festival usually occurs near the summer solstice, there is also a tradition of balancing eggs upright to bring good fortune.
This ancient tradition is brought to life across three days of races where teams from all over the world come to compete. With 223 teams and over 5000 paddlers competing this year, the race draws a tremendous variety of people. You have everyone from professional athletes who grind for months with custom gear, to teams representing various business, university, medical, and military organizations, to amateur teams of senior citizens and students just looking to have fun. You even have teams from the informal embassies around Taipei, like the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and the European Union. I shouted “USA! USA!” when I saw the US team holding their America 250 flag. They cheered right back.
In Taiwan the summer heat arrives quickly, meaning these May and June mornings on the river have been hot. The weekend before race day it was raining and thankfully a bit cooler. The misty clouds hung low, obscuring the green mountains that surround Taipei. The Grand Hotel loomed on the hillside, like a mighty crimson castle alert to intruders. I felt like a Viking on an early morning raid, waiting for the signal to attack as the rain pitter-pattered on gray water.
Practice times are rigidly scheduled to accommodate the dozens of teams that want to practice, and since there’s only so much space on the river, you start to recognize the other teams in your same time slot. Other teams certainly have little trouble recognizing the big boat of foreigners steered by a captain who wears a distinctive rugged cowboy hat who has been doing this for more than a decade. After rowing for a while, our faces wet from rain and sweat, we drifted for a brief respite. All of a sudden, the boat next to us started calling out a challenge to race. We’d seen them several times before, and from the look of it, they were all retired and just happy to give some foreigners a run for their money. After a brief countdown we were off, paddles stabbing the water and backs heaving. It provided an appetizer of adrenaline for race day the following week. After our little race, we all took a photo and shared a nice moment on the riverside. Hopefully it gave them something nice to laugh about when they played mahjong in the park later.
There’s a special sense of camaraderie that develops when you participate in something unique like the Dragon Boat Festival. My fellow English teacher teammates hail from Canada, the UK, South Africa, Australia, and all across America. Several have made a life for themselves in Taiwan and have a family. Others lived all across Asia before settling here. Some abandoned their former careers in business and law to try something new. Still others are fresh out of school and eager to learn Chinese, like me. It’s interesting hearing the myriad twists and turns our lives have taken that brought us to this river.
Besides the fun of competing, by far the best part has been telling my students and local Taiwanese friends that I competed in the dragon boat festival. They’re always shocked and impressed that a group of foreigners would take part in something so traditional. “Teacher, really?! Do you have picture?” they say, wide-eyed. On race day, I was even interviewed by the Taipei Times and appeared in a highlight reel for about two seconds. Don’t worry, I won’t let my newfound celebrity status go to my head.
I love engaging in local festivals and traditions. In our globalized and franchised world, it can be easy to overlook the unique local customs, traditions, and cuisines that really give a place its soul. It’s easy to stick close to the things you know and are familiar with. But you never know what wonderful experiences you might have when you take a little leap of faith and try something new. I first learned about the Dragon Boat Festival in my virtual Chinese class in the summer of 2023. As I squinted at the pale screen on those early mornings, speaking my first halting tones of Mandarin, little did I know that three years later I would be speaking Chinese every day, eating delicious zongzi, and rowing a dragon boat in Taiwan.
So all in all, I’d say that my first Dragon Boat Festival was a success, if not out on the water, at least back on dry land.
Jacob Adams
I'm originally from Virginia in the United States. My wife and I have worked as English teachers in Banqiao, New Taipei for the past year. I also work remotely for a small political risk consulting firm in Washington D.C. Before coming to Taiwan, I lived for two years in Spain as a master's student studying how the US-China rivalry affects Latin America. I speak Spanish and I'm currently studying Chinese. When I'm not working, I'm either running or cycling in Taipei's amazing riverside parks, reading a book about the history and culture of Taiwan and China, or practicing Chinese.