Once the factory of the world, Taiwan relies on tourism to keep its industry alive. Business and economy

Taipei, Taiwan – A group of about 30 students sit in front of a traditional sock ring in one of the many small factories near Taiwan’s capital, Taipei.

In the year When Andrew Wu’s grandfather Nai Yang started his business in Japanese-occupied Taiwan in the 1930s, it was the way he used to make socks: pull the thread through the hole of a needle and hook it, attach it to the ring, and then crank it 200 times.

In Nai Yang’s time, workers could spend six to eight hours on a pair of quality socks, a luxury product at the time that sold for about 4,000 New Taiwan dollars ($135) in today’s currency. But at the Wufuyang Socks Museum, tourists can knit their own socks, water bottle holders, stuffed animals or scarves in an hour while learning the history of sock making in Taiwan – and see how the process is done today with advanced machines.

“In our classes, we teach them how to thread everything,” Wu told Al Jazeera. “So they know how long it takes to make a sock. So they value their stuff more.”

The Wu “Tourism Factory” is part of the Taiwan Economic Development Bureau’s efforts to boost domestic tourism by investing in existing infrastructure, namely the factories.

Once considered the “factory of the world,” Taiwan hopes the industrial tourism initiative will encourage some factories to keep their operations at home rather than follow the global trend of moving to China or Southeast Asia, where land and labor costs are lower.

The 20-year effort has resulted in more than 150 government-sanctioned “tourism factories” and “production culture centers” and up to 100 more independent examples. Curious tourists can visit museums for shoes, robots, suitcases, pencils and condoms to commemorate their visit.

The hope is that a greater focus on service—rather than manufacturing—will build strong brand loyalty and confidence in Taiwanese companies in an increasingly competitive global market.

“It is a sustainable concept. of [idea of] Travel factories are reconstructions, not constructions, Susan Lin, professor of museum studies at Fu Jin University, told Al Jazeera.

“With tourism factories, you have to educate people about the process of making your products. They will see how it is.” [for example] For preserving food, it is healthy and very safe.

Guo Shumei’s first Barbie dolls came from her aunt, who toiled every day in the Meinong factory in Taishan to produce the dolls for export. All the other kids were jealous – the Taiwanese could export Barbie dolls, but they couldn’t buy them domestically.

Workers were given Barbies at the factory as a New Year’s gift. But when the toy had even the slightest blemish — a dirty lip or an eye — factory workers couldn’t help but bring it home.

“I don’t know if the Barbies my aunt brought me were taken for her or given as gifts,” Guo told Al Jazeera. But those dolls and their beautiful dresses inspired the rest of her work, first as a dressmaker, and now as a volunteer and teacher at the Taishan Barbie Doll Industry Cultural Center.

During Aunt Gu’s time, the small town of Taishan was known as the “Barbie Town” of Taiwan.

At its peak, more than 8,000 workers were employed in mining factories to produce half of the Barbies for Mattel. A third of the city’s population has become subcontractors for more detailed work, repairing broken threads and tying bows outside of home workshops.

“Taishan people had a saying, ‘We grew up on Barbie,'” Guo said. Tysha is represented by Barbie.

Taiwan’s economic miracle of the 1970s and 80s can be attributed to factories such as the Taishan Mining Toy Factory, the success of small and medium enterprises (SMEs) that allowed them to produce products for a single contractor, as in the case of Taishan Mattel.

Taiwanese SMEs – often family-owned and operated – produced most of Taiwan’s exports and became experts in supplying goods and parts to foreign companies at affordable prices. In the year Taiwan’s economy prospered in the 1950s thanks to lax government regulation, strong land reform, and American economic aid. Economic growth averaged 10 percent in the 1970s, and by the mid-1980s some estimates suggested there was one firm for every eight Taiwanese adults.

“The strength of most Taiwanese companies lies in their ability to supply goods to companies that have built up demand for their design, marketing and branding but lack the capacity to produce at a price the market will bear,” writes Shelley Rieger. The Tiger Leading the Dragon 2021 Book.

Today, this strength is exemplified in companies like Foxconn and TSMC, which supply phones, chips and other technology to the world’s biggest tech companies.

But the opening of China’s special economic zones in the 1980s meant that low-tech products like Barbie dolls could be produced abroad at a lower cost. Taiwanese companies have helped boost China’s economic growth by moving their operations offshore. In the year In 1987, Mattel left Taishan and moved to China and Malaysia, leaving Taishan employees behind. Taiwan’s annual economic growth slowed to 6.3 percent in the 1990s.

“The impact was huge, and it wasn’t just at work,” Guo said.

Six years after the Meinong factory closed, Taishan’s mayor has moved to keep Barbie culture alive with Barbie-related classes and cultural activities, including DIY classes led by former factory workers. Today, as many reach their 70s and 80s, Guo has taken over that role. The Taishan Barbie Industrial Culture Center is one of the few industrial tourism sites in Taiwan that has its wares on display.

Companies that decide to keep manufacturing in Taiwan, while the rest of their industry moves overseas, are typically not driven by profits from tourism. Some fear that intellectual property may be stolen if they move to China; Others see staying local as a long-term investment that pays off in the local market. Today, to survive competition from China, they focus on smaller orders and niche markets where more money can be made.

“We all know that the museum part is not the part where we make a lot of money. Sometimes, depending on the industry, you can lose money,” said Wu, the sock maker. “It’s not something you see results in one or two years. It takes a whole generation, maybe 10 years, to make kids aware of a brand.” can

The first time Jessamine La learned anything at the Yilan School of Local Culture in the northeastern part of the island was on a field trip to the Orange Country, a kumquat candy factory that she has been touring since 1979.

Ding-Gang Lin, Lei’s classmate and lifelong friend, was the son of those factory owners and the grandson of Kumquat farmers, who sold their fruit to local candy factories. Observing China’s economic growth, Lin’s parents decided to open their own factory and offer tours in a marketing effort to show customers how they used new modern methods to dry and preserve. He proudly claims that his parents established the first “tourism factory” in Taiwan.

But when Lai and Lin were in school, they learned nothing about where they came from, thanks to the ruling Kuomintang party’s 30-year period of martial law and strict suppression of Chinese education and language — an experience that combined with China’s ongoing military exercises and targeting of the democratically-ruled island, which Beijing considers its territory. Trade restrictions.

“Our textbook, geography, was all about China,” La told Al Jazeera. “Taiwan, there were about two chapters. Where is Taipei, where is Kaohsiung, where is the Central Mine, that’s it… we’re not allowed to say Taiwan.

Under Ding-Gang Lin’s management, cafe and DIY sections have been added to Orange Country. For Lin, the priority is connecting people to what he sees as their lost local culture, not attracting more customers.

“I always invite my friends, classmates to join me, so that the local people can understand and feel what our culture is. The people of our country. When you taste that, it’s our house style,” Lin told Al Jazeera.

Guo has the same opinion. Barbie has become an indelible part of Taishan’s identity, but since she began working for the Museum and Cultural Center in 1993, Barbie has been trying to make it more accurately reflect the people of Taiwan.

In the museum, Barbies in Sakzaya, Amis, Atayal and Sediq dresses — some of Taiwan’s 16 indigenous tribes — occupy two full display cases. Later this summer, she will lead a class on Hakka-style clothing for dolls in collaboration with the Taipei Hakka Study Center.

“Back then, people only made Barbies to export,” Guo said. “So when I started teaching classes, I wanted to make Barbies with Taiwanese characteristics.”