The Baishatun Mazu Pilgrimage is a major religious event in Tongxiao Township. Every year, thousands of people—mostly Hakka and Minnan believers—join the walk from Gongtian Temple in Baishatun to Chaotian Temple in Beigang, Yunlin. Mazu, the goddess of the sea, is seen as a protector, especially for coastal communities. The event also strengthens communal bonds, as villagers along the unplanned route welcome pilgrims with free meals and lodging, practicing what is locally called “xiāng tíng” (香停)—ritual hospitality rooted in religious ethics. 

This pilgrimage dates back to the early 1800s during the Qing Dynasty, and it’s still going strong today. One of the most interesting things about this ritual is that there is no fixed route. The bearers of Mazu’s palanquin believe that she guides them by moving the palanquin in different directions—this is called "walking with Mazu's will" (Lin, 2020). This spontaneity makes each year's journey unique and meaningful for those who follow. 

The most unique feature of the Baishatun is the route because no matter how it departs or returns, the route is unpredictable and changes each time. Mazu's palanquin carrier stated that they held the ability to feel Mazu's will and that she indicated to them the next direction or where to stop while they were walking. However, the pilgrims only know the start point and destination so therefore people regard the Baishatun Mazu pilgrimage as the most challenging pilgrimage in Taiwan. 

The pilgrimage starts at the historic Gongtian Temple, which has been a center of faith for generations. The architecture is traditional, with colorful carvings and incense-filled altars. The journey usually takes place around the Lunar New Year and lasts more than a week. It’s physically demanding but spiritually rewarding. What really stands out is how people completely trust Mazu to lead the way—this faith in divine guidance is something rare and deeply rooted in Taiwan’s religious culture (Lin, 2020). 

During the whole pilgrimage, Mazu's palanquin carriers go forward only on foot. Many pilgrims would follow the steps of Mazu's palanquin, traditionally followed by walking, but regardless plenty of the pilgrims would travel by scooter, car, or bicycles. The duration of the route of the Baishatun pilgrimage is not the same in different years such as 6 days and 5 nights in 2009 vs 12 days and 11 nights in 2017.

In Zhunan, the Zhonggang Ciyu Temple hosts a sea ritual each year in the third lunar month. The event focuses on Mazu, like the Baishatun pilgrimage, but this ritual is more about water and purification. Fishing communities and coastal families take part, asking Mazu to protect them while out at sea (Lee, 2015). 

The ritual includes carrying Mazu’s statue from the temple to the sea and bathing it in the ocean. This bath symbolizes cleansing—not just for the statue, but for the whole community. It’s about renewal, safety, and giving thanks for the sea’s resources. The atmosphere is lively but also very respectful, with music, traditional clothing, and temple banners filling the streets. 

The temple itself is close to the coast, making it easy to carry out the ritual. Over time, this ceremony has become more than just a religious tradition—it’s a reminder of the community’s bond with the ocean. It stands out for how clearly it connects religion to the environment and everyday life along Taiwan’s shoreline. 

It was one of the earliest areas to develop in the region. It was built with staws in Yanguanqiue (southern area of Zhunan Township, Miaoli) by Hokkien immigrants from Zhangzhou. It was founded in 1658 the Zhongang Cihyu Temple is the oldest ancient Matsu temple and the local religious center in Miaoli. It is listed as a Third-class historical site because it holds innumerable precious and extremely rare historic artifacts. 

The ceremony of sacrificing the river and washing the ports is coming to an end with the burning of paper money, and the front needs to die to avoid good brothers from following behind and reluctant to leave until they arrive at Ciyu Palace. Various palaces and temples in that area go to the Zhonggang stream to assist the ceremony. The front of the temporary will have various kinds of offerings that were prepared to pay homage to the souls who were unfortunately killed. Marshal Zhongtan led the five battalions to guard the Hong Kong washing team and assisted the third mother of Ciyu Palace and the Marshal wishing ceremony. The Marshal of the Central Altar of Cihyu Temple in Zhonggang conducts the ceremony of dispatching troops and generals before setting off. Before the port washing ceremony, the temple representative and participants explain the process and precautions. 

The Saisiyat Festival of the Short Spirits, or "Pasta’ay," is one of the most significant rituals of the Indigenous Saisiyat people, whose traditional lands stretch across the mountainous border between Hsinchu and Miaoli. This ritual honors the spirits of a mythical short people, the Ta’ay, who once lived alongside the Saisiyat and passed down songs and customs.

According to Saisiyat oral tradition, over 300 years ago, a group of small people—standing less than one meter tall—once lived in a cave across from the Saisiyat settlement. These people were known as Ta’ay, or more casually, “the little people.” Though short in stature, the Ta’ay were incredibly wise and agile. They generously taught the Saisiyat people farming, fishing, hunting techniques, and healing methods. Out of gratitude, the Saisiyat frequently invited the Ta’ay to share food and wine, especially after harvests.

However, over time, problems began to arise. The Ta’ay, often intoxicated at these celebrations, started to harass Saisiyat women, and in some cases even caused pregnancies. Although the Saisiyat were increasingly disturbed, they didn’t act immediately out of fear and uncertainty. One harvest celebration night, after repeated harassment, a Saisiyat youth finally decided to take revenge. He secretly sabotaged a narrow bridge—made of loquat tree trunks—that the Ta’ay crossed daily. He cut halfway through the logs and covered the damage with mud. Later that night, as the drunken Ta’ay walked across the bridge in groups, it collapsed under their weight, sending them into the ravine below. Nearly all of them died, except for two elders who had not yet reached the bridge.

These two survivors, stricken with grief, decided to leave the Saisiyat village for good. Before departing, they taught the Saisiyat special ritual songs and instructions, warning that the tribe must hold a festival each year to honor the spirits of the deceased Ta’ay—otherwise, they would suffer curses and misfortune. After giving these teachings, the elders disappeared toward the east.

The following year, misfortune indeed struck. Crops failed, game became scarce, famine spread, and disease took hold. The Saisiyat, terrified, believed they were being punished by the spirits of the Ta’ay. In response, they began holding a ritual after every autumn harvest, on the night of the full moon in the 10th lunar month. For three nights, they sang and danced from sundown to sunrise, praying to the spirits. This became known as Pasta’ay, or “the Ritual of the Short Spirits,” one of Taiwan’s most unique and haunting indigenous ceremonies.

Held once every two years, and in a larger version every ten years, the ritual takes place at night over two days. Participants—mostly Saisiyat community members, elders, and youth—gather in sacred spaces known as the festival grounds. They sing ceremonial songs, chant prayers, and perform traditional dances around firelight.

The festival is both solemn and communal. It preserves oral tradition, reinforces collective memory, and reminds participants of their ancestral responsibility to respect the spiritual world. Unique to this ritual is the deep narrative structure carried through chants, which recount the Saisiyat's historic relationship with the Ta’ay. It’s a cornerstone of Indigenous cultural preservation in northern Taiwan.