Shanlin, Taiwan and Cengkareng, Indonesia
Every heart is capable of priceless, great love.
Inside a tent, a poster on the wall tells a story of ruin and resilience: Aid workers in neat blue-and-white uniforms scrape gooey gray mud off an abandoned street in the wake of a destructive typhoon. Outside the tent is a picture of renewal: A new settlement rises in a broad green valley in the town of Shanlin.
The Great Love village, complete with earthquake-resistant schools, churches and houses, will eventually accommodate 1,500 families displaced when Typhoon Morakot pummeled Taiwan last August, triggering floods and landslides that killed 700 people and left tens of thousands homeless.
Many of the new Great Love residents, who began to move in last month, are Taiwanese aborigines who lived in marginal highland communities before the typhoon hit.
In Taiwan, Tzu Chi volunteers in their white pants and navy-blue polo shirts are a familiar sight, and the group operates a popular cable-TV channel, also called Great Love. (The charity takes its name from one of its tenets: Every heart is capable of "priceless, great love.")
Largely unknown in the West, Tzu Chi has more regular donors (10 million, mostly Buddhist) and active volunteers (two million) than any other charity based in greater China. In 2008, it raised $314 million. It has built dozens of schools on the island, and six hospitals there bear the "Tzu Chi" name, which is a combination of two characters; the first is an honorific for mother, the second means charity.
But the reach of this 44-year-old charity now extends across much of the developing world, from Ethiopia to
El Salvador to Myanmar, and it offers a view of how Asian philanthropy may evolve in an era of rising affluence. Roughly a third of Tzu Chi's regular donors live outside Taiwan; the charity has 399 offices in 47 countries running local projects and raising money for relief and development. This is foreign aid, with Taiwanese characteristics, and it has proven to be powerfully effective in providing disaster relief. What it isn't, however, is a platform for Buddhist proselytizing.
Until now, philanthropy in Asia has usually meant giving to local causes. By branching into cross-border humanitarian relief, Tzu Chi has become the first Asia-based Buddhist organization to enter a field dominated by large Western aid groups.
Asia "no longer has to be reliant on help from outside," says Richard Madsen, a sociologist at the University of California, San Diego, who has studied Taiwan's Buddhist nongovernmental organizations, among which Tzu Chi is the biggest and has the most global reach. As Asians become more affluent, he adds, "They can start to be generous and proactive to solve problems around the world."
Tzu Chi's roots lie on Taiwan's hardscrabble east coast. In 1966, Cheng Yen, a Buddhist nun now 72 years old, started an association of nuns and housewives who pooled their savings to help poor families. Dharma Master Cheng Yen, as she is known, has said that she was inspired by three visiting Catholic nuns who asked her what social services Taiwan's Buddhists provided.
The organization began to focus on offering Western medicine to needy Taiwanese and later opened a teaching hospital in the eastern city of Hualien. The hospital now has Asia's largest bone-marrow bank, which is open to anyone.


