Modernization and urbanization tend to blanket the past with asphalt and concrete. Often the artistic creativeness of Asia’s ancient civilizations is submerged in glass-faced high rise offices and homes copied from Western magazines. Painting has suffered as the mass culture of affluent societies becomes dominant. Every year downtown Singapore, Jakarta and Manila become more alike. Peoples incline to lose their distinctive artistic expression and the world loses cultural uniqueness in an era of accelerating conformity.

Thailand’s artistic heritage has roots that reach far back into the prehistory of this region of Asia. The kingdom of Nan Chao, that once ruled now Southwestern China and was ravaged by Mongol hordes in 1253, provided the human stock to establish a new civilization at Sukhothai. War again devastated that great cultural complex and Thais shifted their kingdom’s capital down the Chao Phraya River to Ayutthaya, from whence it was transferred first to nearby Thon Buri and in 1782 across the river to Bangkok. Over these centuries Sinicized art and architecture were reshaped by powerful Indian and Khmer introductions and inspired by Buddhism, to give Thailand its historic identity.

Prof. FUA HARIPHITAK has made a life-long profession of seeking the origins of his national artistic tradition, preserving the tradition, and through painting, restoration, writing and teaching, enlivening it with a future. Born near the banks of the muddy Chao Phraya in the then lush orchard community of Thon Buri in 1910, he early became obsessed with capturing the essence of beauty in nature. Admitted to the first class of the School of Fine Arts of the Royal Fine Arts Department, he was soon experimenting with numerous techniques of painting. Already he had mastered the drawing that is the grammar of all plastic art.

Seeking insights to the inspiration for Thai art, Prof. FUA in 1940 accepted an opportunity to study at Visva-Bharati University at Santiniketan in Bengal, India, founded by famed educator and poet Rabindranath Tagore. Interned by the British during World War II because of Thailand’s alliance with Japan, he pursued studies of philosophy, yoga and sculpture, despite suffering from malaria and anemia. Back in Thailand in 1946 his awakened appreciation of classical art prompted him to paint copies of old murals at Ayutthaya, Sukhothai and Phetchaburi. Discovering their dilapidated state he found his life’s mission in preserving these treasures for generations to come. Means must be found, he determined, to counter tropical humidity that had severely weathered the tempera used for many murals. As professor of painting at Silpakorn University after 1947, he involved his students in his search for enduring chemical paints which could be used by the Fine Arts Department for restoration. Graduate study in Italy in 1954 and 1960 afforded him additional expertise which was enhanced by his observations in European galleries.

For the 1982 Rattanakosin Bicentennial celebration in Bangkok Prof. FUA undertook his crowning labor — restoration of the Buddhist monastery library, Ho Phra Trai Pidok, in Thon Buri. Named supervisor of this work in 1968, he recruited and directed craftsmen and painters from throughout the kingdom. Panels and doors were carefully carved true to the originals of two centuries ago. Some murals were restored by him, others were redone and the entire library was renovated to become one of the architectural treasures of Southeast Asia.

Setting aside the prospect of a distinguished and lucrative career as an accomplished artist, Prof. FUA chose to devote his talents to restoring artistic values from the past and teaching students to share this concern, while writing to provoke Thais to think and ask questions about their civilization. Professionally and personally he has shunned popularity for performance. Beneficiaries are his fellow Thais whom he has helped realize that within their some 23,000 wats or temples are found many of their greatest national treasures.

In electing Prof. FUA HARIPHITAK to receive the 1983 Ramon Magsaysay Award for Public Service, the Board of Trustees recognizes his preserving and teaching a younger generation art forms that distinguish Thailand’s unique graphic and architectural heritage.

I am an artist who is not very good at speaking and the Award is too overwhelming for me to express adequately my appreciation of the honor you have kindly bestowed upon me. It is in humility that I accept it.

When news of the Award reached the public in my country, I was glad to learn that most people were quite enthusiastic. I think the Award gave much encouragement to artists, especially those who wish to preserve national heritage as well as those who are determined to create something of great value for truth and beauty.

On an occasion like this I cannot help but think with gratitude of the great masters of the past, such as the Venerable Phra Acharn Nak who created a work so profound that I felt I must devote my life to studying his creation in order to understand it and conserve it for the younger generations.

I must also mention my indebtedness to those who taught me the art of painting and the technique of conserving mural paintings. I learned these valuable lessons in my own country, as well as in India and Italy. It is the late Professor C. Feroci (now known in Thailand as Silpa Bhirasri), an Italian by birth who lived as an Asian and died as a Thai, that I owe more than anyone else. Without his encouragement I would not have come this far. I wish to share this honor with all my predecessors and teachers, as well as my pupils and contemporaries, especially those who devote their lives to serve the arts rather than seek personal fame and wealth. Art longa vita brevis. 

Last but not least, I wish to thank all trustees of the Ramon Magsaysay Award Foundation for being so generous in understanding our work as artists.

Hymns, martial anthems, lullabies, songs since the beginning of recorded time have allowed man to express his deepest emotions. And a people’s culture often finds its most universal bond in shared singing. Probably no other activity can so elevate the spirit and the “humanness” of us all as that special awareness generated by music and song.

Among the ironies confronting science is the inability to explain, within the Darwinian concept of evolution, man’s acquisition of the ability to make and appreciate music. Never was man’s survival furthered by music on the long evolutionary path to homo sapiens. Yet, by some divine means man acquired this gift, so distinct from that of all other creatures. With the emergence of each civilization has come its particular expression, through its own instruments and voice, of a people’s yearnings, love and triumph over adversity.

Born 82 years ago into the family of a farmer and herbal physician in Dankotuwa, Sri Lanka (then Ceylon), MARCELLINE JAYAKODY at the age of 10 chose the vocation of a Roman Catholic priest. While studying in the English-language St. Joseph’s College he became troubled by the rift between Western-oriented Christianity and Sri Lanka’s predominantly Sinhalese Buddhist culture. Following his ordination in the Oblate order on December 21, 1927, his concern over this rift deepened and finding bridges became his personal quest. His talents and life-view found new dimensions with studies at Visva-Bharati University at Santiniketan in Bengal, India, where he added to competency on the violin, piano and organ, mastery of the sitar and tabla, and an appreciation of Eastern music. Travels to the Holy Land, Europe and America enlarged his “world view” of society.

In Sri Lanka Fr. JAYAKODY served for 21 years as a parish priest and has been a teacher off and on since then. In 1958 he launched the Faculty of Eastern Art at St. Peter’s College and 23 years later was still teaching as a visiting lecturer in music at St. Thomas’ College. Today he faithfully spends one day a week at Kala Lanka — the school for training young people from poor families in the performing arts of Sri Lanka — which he established and maintains at his own expense near Colombo.

In 1933 JAYAKODY began writing a newspaper column and composed his first hymn, Sapiri Sama (Full of Grace). His six lyrics, written in 1957 for the first Ceylonese feature film, Rekawa (Palm Line of Destiny), achieved national popularity and still are sung throughout the land.

In all, Fr. JAYAKODY has written the lyrics and music for some 1,000 songs. Although severe religious and ethnic divisions remain in Sri Lankan society, the songs he has given his people to sing have helped bridge these tragic differences. From lullabies to Christmas carols, they have been put on records and tapes and have added joy to daily life. Like his essays and poems, they have also become vehicles for enabling his people to understand the deeper significance of what they see in nature. His Muthu (Pearls) was judged the best book of poetry in 1980.

This silver-haired, singing priest, who stands tall and cheerfully exudes his faith, has helped through music and song to bring to every Sri Lankan an awareness of his heritage. His travel books are alerting his people to the beauty of their country, its sounds, history, the rhythm of the cropping season and their profusely flowering trees. Not neglecting his westernized church upbringing, his radio plays on the lives of Western composers bring a broader dimension to the culture.

Fr. JAYAKODY is a living demonstration that accepting a vocation in the priesthood need never be a retreat from life. His versatile creativity continues to enthuse with spiritual content and philosophical insight the everyday experiences of young and old. As his songs so gladly proclaim, man can take a few steps further along the path where God beckons — to realization of his better self.

In electing Fr. MARCELLINE JAYAKODY to receive the 1983 Ramon Magsaysay Award for Journalism, Literature and Creative Communication Arts, the Board of Trustees recognizes his enriching his country’s “world of song and music” with spiritual and human rejoicing.

This colorful ceremony reminds me of a notable passage in the Bible: “The memory of a just man is forever,” it says.

There are men who live the way they wish and, as the Bible says again, “go the way of all flesh.” There are others who live by the rule of God and man and end up as those whom I dare to call saints. I have come to meet the memory of such a just man, Ramon Magsaysay, the late president of the Philippines.

There is a strange law working with these great men; the world does not leave them alone and they do not leave the world alone. Even after death, the world raises them to life, puts up memorials and monuments to them, writes about them, speaks of them. They become more alive than when alive. In turn they do not leave the world alone. They are alive to the problems of the times and keep on inspiring the world, each in his own way.

Here is Ramon Magsaysay searching for those whom he likes, discovering them, encouraging them, rewarding them. He is telling them to add more goodness to the world, imparting his nature to them. His hands have been long enough to stretch across the world and touch whom he may, including me, out and away in Sri Lanka. He has been pleased, through the Board of Trustees of the Foundation established in his memory to award to me the prize for Journalism, Literature and Creative Communication Arts for 1983. I am deeply grateful for this honor. I shall remember him in my prayers.

If, before I end, I may say something about myself, I wish to state that I did not work for remuneration or reward. There was an urge to work within me and I followed it. I wished to bring together my people who were sitting with a fence between them. I found a new way to do this; I wrote poetry, our people like poetry, and sang it. Song can break through fences, drop down from roofs, enter through keyholes. God blessed me. We are nearly together now.

Ramon Magsaysay, too, says let us be together. May his name be blessed forever. God bless you all.

In this century of modern mass warfare few countries have been as devastated as Korea. Armies that 30 years ago carried their campaigns down the peninsula left the “land of the morning calm” scarred almost beyond recognition. Cities were leveled by artillery and bombs. Bridges, roads, dams and farmsteads were badly damaged; livestock was eaten by the soldiers; and several million Korean civilians were among the casualties. 

For the survivors, the loss of family and the wreckage of society were even more traumatic. In the mass flight south from the communist invaders tens of thousands of parents lost their children; some families are only now being reunited through televised appeals. In the cold Korean winters, amidst the confusion of combat, many a child seeking shelter or a warm bowl of barley-gruel disappeared. War left nearly one-half the adult population without productive employment and reduced to selling rags and waste paper, begging, and stealing as a last resort. When Fr. ALOYSIUS SCHWARTZ arrived—four years after the war’s end—as a secular priest in the southern diocese of Pusan, most of the city’s then over one million residents still lived in makeshift shacks. 

Born in 1930 in Washington, D.C., SCHWARTZ had decided in grade school upon his vocation as a missionary priest, and in college on serving the poor. Studying initially in a Maryknoll seminary, he found the living conditions too plush and transferred to the Societe des Auxiliares des Missions in Louvain, Belgium, where he completed his schooling. He was ordained in Washington and promptly left to take up his assignment in Pusan. 

Amidst the poverty and cruelty of what in 1957 was one of Korea’s worst slums, he assisted in diocesan work while learning the Korean language. Deeply sympathetic to the human tragedy around him, and angered by pious complacency, Fr. SCHWARTZ increasingly became convinced that Christianity must be expressed through a “church of the poor.” Invalided to the United States in 1959 for complications arising from hepatitis, he pondered how to proceed, and in 1960 founded Korean Relief, Inc., to raise funds by mail in the U.S. to be used in service to the poor. 

Returning to Pusan in 1962 he was appointed pastor of the depressed Song-do parish, where ministering to spiritual needs proved to be only part of his calling. Disturbed by the poor care given orphans, he enlisted and trained young women volunteers to become “mothers,” each to 10-12 of the orphans under his care. 

From such beginnings grew Pusan’s Boystown and Girlstown, which now provide kindergarten through technical high school—and recently junior college, for some 1,400 of the most underprivileged. Boystown and Girlstown in Seoul followed, where over 2,600 are similarly educated and cared for. Fr. SCHWARTZ conducts mass on both campuses to build spirits, and encourages sports to build bodies, teamwork and self-confidence. His hospitals in Seoul and Pusan, and Tuberculosis Sanatarium in the latter, serve only the poor and are staffed by some of Korea’s ablest medical personnel. Kaengsaengwon, another home, provides care for 1,500 destitute aged and disabled adults, and training for 200 poorly adjusted or retarded youngsters. Operating these institutions are the Sisters of Mary, founded by SCHWARTZ from the nucleus of “orphan mothers,” and now numbering 150 Korean women. Assisting them are the 13 men of his new order, the Brothers of Christ, likewise dedicated to serving the poor. Visitors remark on the spontaneity, cleanliness and health of the young charges, the involvement of the sick and elderly, and the fine maintenance of all the facilities. 

Fr. SCHWARTZ raises three-fourths of his annual budget—today approximating US$8 million—through a direct, personal, mail-appeal-for-Christian-giving to millions of Europeans and Americans each year. The Korean Government covers the rest of the costs, recognizing that Fr. SCHWARTZ provides for that sector of society which has not benefited from the nation’s remarkable economic advances of the past two decades. Although gangsters and others have tried to thwart his interference with their exploitation of Korea’s social outcasts, and have tested his perseverance, no one has shaken his determination that the poor not only must be fed and clothed, but also given the education and skills to enable them to participate fully in society. 

In electing Fr. ALOYSIUS SCHWARTZ, priest of Pusan, to receive the 1983 Ramon Magsaysay Award for Peace and International Understanding, the Board of Trustees recognizes his mobilizing European and American support to succor acutely deprived Korean youngsters, homeless elderly and infirm.

It is with mixed feelings that I accept the Award this evening. Certainly I am very grateful. I am pleased. And I am honored. At the same time, I am a bit uneasy inside, somewhat embarrassed and somewhat discomfited. 

The announcement of the Award on August 12 generated enormous publicity in Korea. The newspapers, TV, radio and a number of magazines gave excellent coverage to the news. This publicity has already proven useful and helpful to my work. 

More than this, the Award announcement was a tremendous morale booster for the 4,000 or so orphaned boys and girls I care for in Pusan and Seoul—and the 150 dedicated Korean Sisters who look after them. The Sisters and the children were absolutely elated when they heard the news. Not only that, but the Boystown and Girlstown graduates?who have left me and are now living on their own in society—were just as excited. Many have written or phoned. One boy called up and told me that they were dancing in the factories after they heard the announcement. It does my heart good to see the Sisters, children and graduates so excited and happy. And for this I am tremendously grateful. 

At the same time, as I mentioned, I am a little embarrassed. In the gospel Christ in effect says: When you give alms to the poor, or for that matter, do anything worthwhile, don’t spoil it by sounding a trumpet and telling the whole world about it. Rather enhance the beauty and the value of whatever little good you do by doing it in a quiet and hidden manner. In fact, your right hand should not even let your left hand know what it is doing. In accepting this Award I am not only telling my left hand what I am doing—but I am telling the whole world as well. 

Therein lies the dilemma and the source of my mixed feelings. But in balance I think the positive elements far outweigh these negative and somewhat scrupulous reservations. In the Psalms it is written: “Not to us, O Lord, not to us—but to Thy Name alone give glory.” My feeling and my hope is that by accepting this Award I will be giving honor and glory to God. And ultimately this is what really counts. 

So, to conclude these brief remarks, as we say in the “home country”: “Kamsa hamnida. Kamsa hamnida. Taedanhi kamsa hamnida.” Which means simply: “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so very, very much!”

Rural development throughout Asia and elsewhere generally comes in two models: projects are designed and directed from outside and sometimes constructed with local labor, or villagers themselves take the initiative to transform their communities. Cases of the latter are rare. To wait for aid is more tempting, especially since such assistance usually does not require a contribution of goods or labor, or disturb the village leadership structure. 

Thus the modernization of rural Southeast and South Asia founders while hundreds of millions wait for the modernizing process to be done for them. Yet no government or foreign or domestic donor alone can construct the immense water conservancy works required to double rice production in the next 15 years. Roads can be built, but without local participation in maintenance, monsoon rains soon make them impassable. Repeated national campaigns for sanitation, health and increased production can succeed only if farm families themselves want and will labor for improvements, and their children are educated to value work. 

ANTON SOEDJARWO first went to the countryside around Yogyakarta in Central Java in 1968 when he and three fellow engineering students at Gajah Mada University, not wanting to go home and be idle during the semester break, were challenged by their Swiss Jesuit hostel master to help the farmers. Realizing the neglected and impoverished lot of villagers, they eventually organized Yayasan Dian Desa, Light of the Village Foundation, with SOEDJARWO as director. They began seriously to apply their engineering skills, but with a difference: they would work only where rural people showed initiative and cooperation. 

Water was the first community need for which they devised solutions. With a dry season frequently lasting five months, farmers or their wives were squeezing water from banana stalks, or walking two to ten kilometers daily for water, taken often from stagnant ponds. Simple gravity flow systems made with bamboo pipes were tried successfully. These were soon augmented with hydraulic rams for lifting water from lower levels. Building from 4 up to 25 cubic meter ferro- or bamboo-cement catchment tanks followed in 1977; water used sparingly from these cisterns could supply much of a household’s or several households’ needs until the next rain. With these various innovations some 250,000 villagers now have a year-round water supply. 

Fuel-conserving cooking stoves were another practical introduction. As population pressure resulted in the denudation of mountainsides, wood for cooking had become scarce and only a few families could afford kerosene. Built of clay, sand, rock and dung, these modifications of the Lorena Stove, originally designed in Switzerland, require only one-half of the wood formerly used for household cooking. 

As Dian Desa over the past decade became an “institutional entrepreneur,” with maturing leadership, SOEDJARWO determined to practice what he preached and instituted income-generating projects to reduce reliance on outside aid, both by villagers and Dian Desa itself. A special highland clove provided to villagers yields of buds worth US$10 per kilogram. Poultry farming on a small scale has been made economic with a feed composed partly of snails and earthworms, and by a method for preserving fresh eggs for six months. Eels are raised commercially and coffee processed and marketed. The winged bean, grown by the farmers, is manufactured into bean cakes and catsup by the foundation’s factory. 

The crux of Dian Desa’s success is that it encourages a radical change from the mendicant mentality that governments and others unknowingly foster. It tells villagers bluntly: “If you do not want to help yourselves and prefer to starve, that is your choice. We are not Santa Claus. All we offer is to show you how to work for what you need.”

SOEDJARWO has turned down attractive job opportunities in Jakarta, but took time to start a course on village-relevant engineering at Gajah Mada University. Now 35, he has become an example. For a growing number of young Indonesians impatient for change, he offers evidence that outside of government there are opportunities awaiting their creative efforts for bettering rural living. 

In electing ANTON SOEDJARWO to receive the 1983 Ramon Magsaysay Award for Community Leadership, the Board of Trustees recognizes his stimulating Javanese villagers to genuine self-reliance with simple, readily applicable appropriate technology.

First of all I would like to express my gratitude to the Ramon Magsaysay Award Foundation for giving me the honor of receiving the Ramon Magsaysay Award. I was quite surprised when I first learned from my staff about the Award; being honest, this was completely beyond my dream. However I believe that this happened because of the good cooperation, understanding and support of the government, of colleagues in our own and other nongovernmental organizations, and of all the friends who have been very faithful and supportive of Dian Desa’s work. On this occasion I would like to thank them. 

I would also like to express my wish that individuals will realize that helping others, however small their efforts may be, is worth far more than doing nothing; they can make a difference. 

As we all know, there are millions of people who still subsist below the minimum standard of living — for a myriad of multifaceted reasons. There being many reasons for poverty, a wide array of possible activities exists for overcoming this condition. There is a real need of activators who can play the role of initiators in addressing this problem. It is surely not the responsibility of the government alone, but the responsibility of the people — or in other words, our responsibility — to help change society. 

Unfortunately, within society there is usually a class system that may lead to a condition or situation where people work only for recognition or status. And such a situation, in my opinion, is quite dangerous for development. In my experience more activators will bring better performance and hasten development faster than one prima donna with many titles or high status, or than government alone. I think this is the situation in the rural development process; I believe President Magsaysay foresaw this years ago. 

In closing I once again would like to thank the Ramon Magsaysay Award Foundation, the Indonesian Government and all the friends who have given their support to Dian Desa. I believe this honor will be a challenge to us to fulfill and transmit the desire of the former President of the Philippines, His Excellency Ramon Magsaysay.

Rigid administrative bureaucracies can be among the most oppressive of tyrannies. Attitudes and actions of officials exercising jurisdiction over innumerable decisions affecting people’s daily lives sometimes are abusive; and the authority invested in officialdom can become the cloak for pervasive corruption, victimizing a citizenry by compelling it to pay for services to which it is freely entitled.

SU NAN-CHENG came to public office aware of these dangers and convinced that access of citizens to key decision-makers — who act with integrity — is essential to good government. Also vitalizing both government and private sectors of the city he heads is the advice he exuberantly follows: “Enjoy your work.”

Born in 1936 into the family of a small merchant with long antecedents in Taiwan, SU was nine years old when World War II ended, terminating Japan’s colonial rule and restoring Taiwan to Chinese sovereignty. In grade school he peddled soybean milk. Suffering the snubs of richer classmates, he early resolved to help the poor. While he was at the university he produced and directed a radio music and question-and-answer program and after his two years in the military, taught high school for five years. Beginning in 1966 he served for 10 years as city councilman, at the same time working as sales manager of the Taiwan Times Daily News. Campaigning as an independent candidate, he was elected Mayor of Tainan in September 1977 and was handily reelected in 1981.

Immediately after his first election he moved the mayor’s office to the ground floor of City Hall so that he could readily be seen by the townspeople. His office is open until 11 p.m. to accommodate constituents who cannot come during the day, therefore he usually sleeps on a couch in the next room. SU sleeps little and is accustomed to jogging through the city at 5 a.m., calling the citizenry to get up; residents now answer with good nature and some join him.

Three months after assuming office SU established the Prompt Service Center, staffed in part by experienced volunteers who are retired government workers. In a day it may expedite delayed applications, attend to clogged sewers or forgotten rubbish, give guidance on dealing with laws and regulations, resolve questions of taxes or land disputes and aid citizens with health, monetary or family problems. He built House of Love where the widowed, aged and orphaned enjoy a recreation/tea room and lodging at minimal cost. The new Labor Activities Center is equipped with library, recreation and meeting facilities, and well-furnished, low-priced rooms for guests.

SU’s interests and concerns are catholic. Historic temples, forts and gardens are being restored. All these are reminders that Tainan was the capital of Taiwan during the two centuries when the island, named Formosa by the Portuguese, was first a Dutch colony, then was conquered by Koxinga (Cheng Cheng-kung) who was loyal to the remnants of the Ming Dynasty of China, and next came under Ching Dynasty rule. Tainan children’s art is displayed around the city during contests. Young adult artists from throughout Taiwan are being invited to exhibit in Tainan and photographs of prize winning works are published. Sports thrive in the new stadium and the 74-acre athletic park which was formerly a garbage dump. The 68-square mile seaport is developing low cost housing on reclaimed land, estates for light, non-polluting industries and ponds for intensive culture of eels, crabs and numerous varieties of fish.

The mayor’s financing is equally enterprising. The regular budget for education, police and ongoing functions for this city of 620,000 is only half the annual special budget for construction. The latter is raised in large part from the sale of, or taxes on, land which has appreciated as the result of government development policies. Also, scrupulous accounting and efficient building contracts keep expenditures to a minimum.

Most meaningful of all, SU is imbuing citizens with pride in participation in their city’s affairs. From the first, cities have been the venue for the fullest expression of a civilization; in Tainan this is being accomplished anew as SU carries forward his theme: “We must preserve our historical heritage while building for tomorrow.”

In electing SU NAN-CHENG to receive the 1983 Ramon Magsaysay Award for Government Service, the Board of Trustees recognizes his making government readily available and responsive to the needs of all citizens, while attractively modernizing an historic city.

As a recipient of the Ramon Magsaysay Award, I consider August 31, 1983 the most precious and memorable day in my life.

The Ramon Magsaysay Award, internationally renowned and hailed as the Nobel Prize of Asia, is a distinctive honor. On this auspicious occasion, therefore, I would like to thank the Board of Trustees of the Foundation, my parents, and the 620,000 residents of Tainan City, who have directly or indirectly made this memorable event happen. I would also like to express my gratitude to His Excellency, Chiang Ching-kuo, President of the Republic of China, who vigorously supports the doctrines of democracy. Public elections held for mayorship have given me the opportunity twice to serve the residents of Tainan and thus receive recognition by the Ramon Magsaysay Award Foundation.

The Ramon Magsaysay Award, however, is not merely an honor, but also a charge. I pledge that I will do my best to deserve the honor you have given me and I can assure you that it will be both an encouragement and moral support in my future public service. I will endeavor to serve my very best, with honesty, enthusiasm and courage, in the cause of justice and freedom.

I would like once again to thank President Chiang who visited my office in Tainan upon learning of the achievements of my Prompt Service Center. He presented me with a figure of a smiling Buddha inscribed with Chinese characters meaning literally: “always with a smile, welcome everyone with an open mind.” This has not only become my motto and guide, but also that of my colleagues. In Tainan City Hall you will be met by smiling faces and served with devotion and sincerity.

I was born in a poor family, a son of a sidewalk vendor. Though poor, surrounded with obstacles, I lived with my head up and strove with only one solid ambition, to serve the public unselfishly and devotedly. Since my assumption of public office — ten years as city councilor and two terms as city mayor — I have abided by the old Chinese virtues and traditions and by the sacrificial spirit of Christianity, to serve my country and my countrymen.

Today, millions and millions of my compatriots behind the “bamboo curtain” long for freedom and dream of democracy. This had made me realize more and more the value of freedom. So I have decided to donate the Award stipend, totaling US$20,000, to the six Chinese freedom fighters who recently fled from Mainland China to seek freedom but were detained in South Korea. We have the same blood and are descendants of one ancestry. I have asked our embassy in Seoul to set up a special bank account for them, and use this money to engage the best lawyers until they are set free.

I am very happy to come back to this beautiful country, the Philippines. Before I conclude, therefore, I would like to express my utmost appreciation to the Trustees of the Ramon Magsaysay Award Foundation who gave me the honor, and I would like to share this honor with Tainan’s four Philippine sister cities: Cavite, Tagaytay, Trece Martires and Pasay. Mabuhay to the Republic of the Philippines and more productive years to the Ramon Magsaysay Award Foundation! Maraming salamat po sa inyong lahat (Thank you very much everyone).