I am Kawai Shitaro-though many know me as Kotoyama Kawai, a name that echoes through the forests of Alishan as surely as the call of the mountain birds. It is the year 1903, and I find myself deep in the heart of Taiwan, a land newly under Japanese rule, tasked with a mission that stirs both my scientific curiosity and my sense of duty: to unlock the secrets and riches of Alishan’s ancient forests.

Around me, the landscape is both breathtaking and formidable. Towering cypresses and red cedars, many over a thousand years old, rise from the misty slopes, their roots gripping the earth with the wisdom of ages. The air is crisp, scented with resin and the promise of rain. The terrain is steep, carved by rivers and veiled in clouds, making every step both a challenge and a revelation. Here, the geography itself is a teacher-demanding respect, patience, and ingenuity from those who would traverse or transform it.

The sociocultural context is complex. Taiwan, once ruled by the Qing, is now a colony of Japan, and the Japanese government is eager to demonstrate its ability to govern and develop this island. There is tension between the new rulers and the local population, as well as among the indigenous peoples who have called these mountains home for centuries. Yet, there is also a sense of possibility-a chance to create something enduring, to bring the fruits of modern science and technology to a place of untapped potential.

My own journey began in Nagoya, Owari Province, where I was born in 1865. My passion for forestry led me to the College of Agricultural Sciences at the Imperial University, and then to the forests of Germany and Austria, where I learned the latest techniques in forest management. It was there I met Goto Shinpei, whose vision for Taiwan would change the course of my life. At his invitation, I arrived in Alishan in 1902, charged with surveying its resources and envisioning their future.

Standing here, I am filled with awe and responsibility. The trees are not merely timber; they are living monuments, witnesses to centuries of change. Yet, I see in them the foundation for a new industry, one that could transform Chiayi into a thriving center of forestry and innovation. My greatest fear is that in our eagerness to develop, we might lose sight of the delicate balance between use and preservation. My desire is to harness these resources wisely, to build not just wealth but knowledge, and to leave behind a legacy of sustainable stewardship.

It was my recommendation that led to the construction of the Alishan Forest Railway-a marvel of engineering that would wind its way from the lowlands of Chiayi up to the high forests, carrying both lumber and people. This railway, combining American mountain railway technology with Japanese ingenuity, became the artery through which Alishan’s riches flowed, fueling the growth of Chiayi and earning it the nickname “wood town.” The sawmills, powered by modern machinery, stand as testament to what can be achieved when tradition and innovation meet.

Human connections in this era are defined by both collaboration and conflict. Japanese officials, engineers, and laborers work alongside Taiwanese and indigenous peoples, sometimes in harmony, sometimes in tension. The railway itself is a symbol of these connections-a line that brings distant communities together, for better or worse. In my work, I strive to bridge worlds: the scientific and the practical, the Japanese and the Taiwanese, the past and the future.

Of all my experiences, the most profound has been the realization that progress is not simply a matter of technology or policy, but of understanding-of listening to the land, respecting its people, and learning from both. The monument erected in my honor near Ciyun Temple is not just for me, but for all who have labored to make Alishan’s forests a source of life and wonder for generations to come.

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Essay: Lessons from Alishan for Startups

Innovation, like a railway through a mountain forest, requires vision, courage, and respect for the environment in which it operates. My experience in Alishan offers enduring lessons for startups today.

First, *know your landscape*. Before proposing the Alishan Forest Railway, I spent months surveying the terrain, studying its resources, and understanding its challenges. Startups must likewise immerse themselves in their market, learning not only the opportunities but also the obstacles and the needs of those they hope to serve.

Second, *balance ambition with responsibility*. The forests of Alishan were ancient and abundant, but I feared reckless exploitation. In business, growth should be pursued with an eye toward sustainability-ensuring that today’s gains do not become tomorrow’s regrets.

Third, *embrace collaboration*. The railway was not built by one person, but by the combined efforts of engineers, laborers, and local communities. Startups thrive when they build diverse teams and foster partnerships, drawing on a wide range of skills and perspectives.

Fourth, *innovate by integrating old and new*. We combined Western railway technology with local knowledge and Japanese organization, creating something uniquely suited to Taiwan’s mountains. Startups should not discard tradition, but rather find ways to blend it with innovation, creating solutions that are both novel and grounded.

Finally, *leave a legacy*. The true measure of success is not just profit, but the positive impact left on the world. Whether it is a railway through the forest or a new technology, strive to build something that endures, inspires, and uplifts.

In every era, the greatest ventures are those that connect people, respect their environment, and dare to dream beyond the horizon.