They arrived by train, car, and motorbike — students, monks, retirees, gym enthusiasts, migrant workers, parents with children, even tourists. Dressed in boots and bucket hats and carrying shovels, they poured into Guangfu, a picturesque town in eastern Taiwan’s Hualien County, just days after a catastrophic flood buried streets and homes in mud.

Nicknamed the “shovel supermen,” tens of thousands of volunteers descended on the town to help after a distant typhoon triggered disaster. Typhoon Ragasa, the most powerful of 2025 so far, dumped relentless rain across the region. Torrents swelled the Matai’an River and caused a barrier lake — formed after a July landslide — to burst unexpectedly. More than 15 million tonnes of water and silt surged through Guangfu, killing at least 18 people and destroying entire neighborhoods.

Scenes of Destruction

Cars lay mangled and piled in corners. Streets were filled with thick sludge that clung to boots and gave off a sour, sun-baked odor. Ground floors of houses were gutted; some rural homes near the river were buried up to their roofs. The local high school’s sports field vanished under a meter of mud. Many victims were elderly residents who could not escape in time.

The official search and rescue effort had slowed as rains stopped and immediate danger passed, but the volunteer wave kept swelling. On the first day of a long weekend, 30,000 people arrived by train alone, quadrupling Guangfu’s normal population. Extra train services were added; by Monday, traffic controls were needed to handle the surge.

Organized Chaos — and Hope

Hundreds of police officers, soldiers, and disaster relief teams from Tzu Chi, a Buddhist charity, tried to coordinate efforts. Some 10,000 volunteers worked under Tzu Chi’s guidance, but many others simply showed up after seeing social media calls for help. They walked through streets with shovels until they found someone needing a hand.

“It’s mostly well-intentioned,” one firefighter said, though he admitted the sheer numbers made coordination challenging. Despite the chaos, the energy was upbeat: people shouted encouragement, laughed together, and shared supplies. At intersections, residents directed volunteers to homes still buried in sludge.

Residents Grateful but Critical

For many locals, the volunteer response was a lifeline amid frustrations over slow official aid.
“Three days after the flooding, no government people had come here at all,” said Wang Wei-chang, scraping mud from his parents’ home. “But the volunteers came at 5 a.m. — they’d driven from Tainan across the island.”

Tension between local and central authorities added to the frustration. Taiwan’s central government had issued its largest-ever evacuation order a day before the barrier lake burst, but critics argue it came too late and wasn’t effectively enforced. County officials said warnings to leave rather than simply move upstairs should have been clearer. Premier Cho Jung-tai promised a full investigation into evacuation failures.

Some survivors described warnings as confusing or inadequate, especially for the town’s older residents. Many didn’t hear alerts or underestimated the risk because daily life — shops, restaurants — continued as normal that day.

Courage Amid Loss

Peng Shin-yi, whose home was destroyed, recounted racing back from lunch as a wave of water and mud roared down the street. He climbed to a second-floor balcony just in time. His elderly aunt, living closer to the river, did not survive.

Others, like Qiu Jinzhong, head of the Datong area, personally went door to door before the disaster. Yet when the flood struck, some neighbors who had refused to leave were trapped and cried for help.

Community Spirit Endures

By Monday afternoon, volunteers began heading back to work, covered in mud but cheered by grateful residents shouting “jiayou!” and “xie xie!” — “keep going!” and “thank you!” Locals handed out food and drinks, even hoses and buckets to help volunteers clean their boots before boarding trains.

Though global headlines have faded, Taiwan’s social media remains full of images from the cleanup — mud-smeared volunteers, shattered homes, and resilient smiles. Residents continue to share advice for future helpers and messages of hope as Guangfu begins the long road to recovery.