Well, it’s now two weeks in a row that I have missed my self-imposed deadline of Wednesday at 5pm to post. I will excuse myself by saying that, between the joy of friends visiting from out of town, and the stress of trying to cram as much research in before the Lunar New Year holiday, I’ve been otherwise engaged. As such, today will be a cheat day, in which I will provide you with a slightly jokey introduction to the water buffalo who live at my host institution.
That’s right. Water buffalo.
First of all, I should provide some background: My host institution, Taipei National University of the Arts 國立臺北藝術大學 (TNUA) is (to quote the rather neurotic architect in one my of favorite episodes of Poirot), “situated on an eminence,” with the entire campus perched on the sides of steep hills that offer sweeping views of Taipei’s Beitou 北投 district. While it is a bit of a schlep up to the place, the views on offer are undeniably breathtaking, particularly around sunset.

As the above photo might suggest, TNUA is in a rather isolated corner of Taipei, a far cry from the hustle and bustle of downtown. Despite the relatively bucolic vibe of the neighborhood, I will confess that I was still surprised on my first tour of the campus to encounter a trio of water buffalo. I was introduced to these charmers by an unfailingly generous fellow doctoral student, Yang Chia-wei 楊嘉維, who not only took the time to introduce me to campus, but whose continuing patience and understanding in the face of my many questions and neuroses fills me with unending gratitude.
Now, I’m no stranger to livestock on university campuses—Stanford’s horses didn’t just wander in off the street. To be fair, though, Stanford’s desultory stab at the academic version of glamping—as reflected in the nickname “The Farm”—didn’t come out of nowhere, as the land on which Stanford is situated was once a major working farm. As such, a few equine co-tenants are perhaps to be expected.
To the best of my knowledge, TNUA has no such agricultural legacy. Nevertheless, upon entering through the campus’s main entrance, one of the first sights to greet visitors is a gently sloping grassy expanse that serves as the water buffalo’s space for work and play.
When I expressed curiosity about the presence of water buffalo on campus, my fellow students responded, “I know, it’s weird, right?” For a brief moment I thought we were on the same page, until we reached the more detailed follow-up explanation, “See, the school only meant to buy two water buffalo, but it turns out one of them was pregnant, so we ended up with three.” I decided the matter was best chalked up as one of life’s little mysteries.
As time has gone on, however, I have been ever more smitten with these campus cows. In particular, I’m struck by how impressively well-suited these bovine mascots are to both their musical and academic environments. To begin with, they are singers:
Now, this scene may look chaotic, but I assume that they are a fairly serious ensemble. Furthermore, based on a recently-leaked image of what I can only assume to be cover art for a soon-to-drop album, they seem to be going through a moody indie phase.

Now, the existence of resonant ruminants might seem perfectly natural. TNUA is, after all, a music school. But beyond their musical proficiency, I’ve been impressed by these cows’ commitment to the broader academic community. This commitment is despite the fact that they have achieved a degree of career stability that might normally exempt them from involvement in the messier aspects of academic politicking.
I first noticed this around the time that the strike started amongst academic workers in the University of California system. On that day, I arrived to witness a scene of semi-aquatic cattle who had clearly had enough. Like the UC workers, they walked out (or in this case, laid down) in solidarity with striking academics demanding more sustainable working conditions.
Under any circumstances, once might argue that this show of solidarity already went above and beyond what one might expect of the average academic aquatic cow. But a few weeks later, as the UC strike dragged on in the face of administrative stonewalling, TNUA’s trio of mascots escalated their tactics, leading to a period of complete non-compliance with the expectation that they appear on campus every day. In their place, a lone union representative was left to monitor the situation on the ground.
I’m not sure where the story of TNUA’s water buffalo will lead. But this trio of musically minded, academically engaged livestock are already legends in my eyes. As such, I was very glad to see on my most recent trip to campus that the water buffalo are back on the job, welcoming visitors to campus, in addition to maintaining their usual high standards of musicality and academic engagement. Fear not, though. If there are any noteworthy updates, I’ll be sure to keep everyone posted.

I hope it’s clear that today’s entry was written in a spirit of fun, even as I express my genuine fondness for these cows. It also gives you (perhaps too much of) a glance into the way I narrativize the lives of these three charmers.
I’m not sure if I’ll be quite back on track by next week, so I’m not sure what my next post holds. But after that, we’ll be back in full force for the final few weeks of my research stint in Taiwan.
Thanks as always for reading, and looking forward to being back soon with some of our more regular coverage!