In the 1930s, a mysterious document known as the Tanaka Memorial shocked the world. Supposedly written by Japanese Prime Minister Baron Tanaka, it outlined a strategy for conquering Manchuria, China, Southeast Asia, and even the United States. As real-life events seemed to unfold according to the alleged plan, the document became one of the most influential pieces of anti-Japanese propaganda of the twentieth century. It was quoted by American films, politicians, and many others. In this episode, we tell the story of Taiwanese businessman Tsai Chih-kan (蔡智堪), who later claimed to have personally copied the secret plans from inside the Japanese Imperial Palace. Although most historians today believe the Tanaka Memorial was a forgery, it remains an unsolved mystery. And the story of how it shaped global politics and wartime propaganda is, we think, more fascinating than the contents of the document.

John Ross and special guest John Groot celebrate the opening of the remarkable Danjiang Bridge in Tamsui (Danshui). They explore the bridges that transformed Taiwan: the Xiluo Bridge over the mighty Zhuoshui River, once the longest bridge in Asia, and the Taipei Bridge that helped fuel Taiwan’s economic miracle. That bridge is best known for its “Scooter Waterfall,” the tightly packed stream of scooters that pours down the Taipei-side off-ramp during morning rush hour. We follow the Taipei Bridge to the other side, the gritty, industrial district of Sanchong. John Groot shares stories from his many walks, including some hair-raising bridge crossings during his circumnavigation of Taiwan’s coastline. He also outlines his ambitious new walking project and related website, TaiwanCentric.com (formerly the Culture Shack and scheduled to relaunch on May 22).

In this Mother’s Day edition, we celebrate the extraordinary life of Chen Shu-chu (陳樹菊), a humble vegetable seller from Taitung who quietly donated millions of NT dollars to schools, charities, and orphaned children – while continuing to live a modest life behind a market stall.

Born in 1950 into poverty, Chen Shu-chu was forced to leave school at just thirteen after her mother died in childbirth. For half a century she worked at the stall and saved her earnings, giving them to the needy. Chen’s lifetime of extraordinary generosity eventually brought her international fame.

In 2010 she appeared in Time magazine’s list of the world’s most influential people. This is an uplifting story of how a seemingly ordinary market vendor became one of Taiwan’s most admired figures.

Ghosts of all kinds – wandering spirits, water ghosts looking for substitutes, mountain demons, and many more; welcome to the strange supernatural world of Taiwan.

Eryk and John, fortified with protective amulets and holy mantras, bravely step into the murky shadowlands of Taiwanese ghost lore and modern supernatural encounters.

For this episode, they draw heavily on anthropologist Lin Mei-rong’s collection of more than 150 ghost stories from across Taiwan.

You’ve probably heard of water ghosts. But have you heard of the mysterious “Little Girl in Red” who lures hikers deep into the mountains? Or paper funeral dolls that come alive? How about “Yin” temples dedicated not to gods, but to wandering spirits? Lock your doors and windows, light some incense, and prepare to be spooked (and amused).

We head into the mountains to tell the story of the deep relationship between Taiwan’s Indigenous communities and firearms. The warriors’ incredible skill and ingenuity with guns enabled them to hold off Qing dynasty forces, Western punitive expeditions, and even the modern Japanese army well into the 20th century.

Far from the familiar image of bows and arrows versus modern rifles, Taiwan’s Indigenous peoples were quick to adopt and adapt firearms. Early on these firearms were simple matchlock muskets – slow to load but still deadly in skilled hands – but in the late 1880s, the Indigenous groups acquired modern rifles. Sometimes they had firepower equal to, or better than, their opponents.

Through the centuries, guns became essential tools for hunting and warfare. They also became items of status and cultural importance. Guns were gifted in marriage, buried with the dead, and woven into customs of justice and belief.

For this episode, we drew on the excellent dissertation by Pei-Hsi Lin(Susan Lin), Firearms, Technology and Culture: Resistance of TaiwaneseIndigenes to Chinese, European and Japanese Encroachment in a Global Context(c.1860–1914).

Join us as we step into the strange Cold War world of The Chairman, a forgotten 1969 spy thriller starring Hollywood great Gregory Peck. The movie, which was partly filmed in Taiwan, is about a scientist sent behind the Bamboo Curtain to steal a miracle agricultural formula.

The plot is outlandish, but behind the absurdity lies an interesting snapshot of global fears in the late 1960s, from overpopulation and famine to superpower rivalry. We follow the filming production here in Taiwan (a stand-in for off-limits communist China).

This takes us to locations such as Taipei’s spectacular mountainside Zhinan Temple, where Peck plays ping-pong with Mao Zedong. Yes, The Chairman was a flop – deservedly so, we think – but the film certainly makes for a fun podcast episode.

It’s 1965, and Henry (27) and Margaret (26) Lee have moved to the USA. She’s working as a schoolteacher, and he’s trying to make ends meet however he can, including by washing dishes at a Chinese restaurant and teaching kung fu. After some hard years — and a long stint in school — Henry Lee secures an academic position at New Haven University and builds its forensic center into a world-class institution. He soon begins working with legal authorities and solving cases.

Being called as an expert witness for the defense in the 1995 OJ Simpson trial cements Henry Lee’s status as a modern Sherlock Holmes. But unlike fictional characters, Lee was human, and humans make mistakes and sometimes also lie. There’s no question Lee made some significant mistakes. Some, however, think he crossed the line into deception. Still, the errors, big or small, can be counted on one hand — most of the roughly 8,000 cases he worked on are not under review.

Stick around after the end for a five-minute reading from Wiki on the 2004 assassination attempt on former Taiwan president Chen Shui-bian, which was, of course, one of the cases Lee was asked to help solve.

To mark the recent passing of Henry C. Lee (李昌鈺), one of the world’s most famous forensic scientists, we examine his extraordinary life. In Part 1, we’re in impoverished postwar Taiwan. Lee is the eleventh of thirteen children. That, and his father dying on “China’s Titanic,” means it’s a childhood marked by tragedy and hardship.

Lee walked barefoot to school to save his shoes. We follow his police training and work, service on Kinmen, a visa-overstay romance, and an unlikely detour running a tiny newspaper in Borneo.

Part 2 follows Lee to the United States, where he rises to international fame through major criminal cases and where his golden reputation is somewhat tarnished by controversy.