This is an essay written by Uncle
Qingsong, and is the original source for his impetus to
return to the fields as a farmer; it was originally printed
in Qingsong¡¦s Notes on Cultivating the Fields,
published in 2007.) |
Returning to the Field-Side Paths Walked
by My Grandfather
Sometimes I contemplate, even though it
is hard to put into words, why is it that after thirty-plus
revolutions of the seasonal round, and many ups and downs in
life, I still decided to return to the land, return to the
field-side paths that were trodden by my grandfather?
In the spring of 2004, after concluding
my studies in graduate school in Japan, I returned to my
homeland from which I had been separated for two years, and
went down to the fields and assumed the role of a peasant
shouldering a hoe and wearing a bamboo hat. Most of my
friends, including my advising professor at law school who
had studied the law for most of his life, all stared at me
with wondering eyes and doubted the evidence of their own
ears when they heard of my plan to return to the countryside
and be a farmer. Perhaps only I knew myself that this seed
of rice had been planted long ago in my heart during my
youth.
During winter when I was twelve years
old, because of my father¡¦s failure in business, the whole
family moved back to the countryside around Taizhong, to a
small village that I only visited during New Year¡¦s
celebration and other festivals. My impression of my
grandparents¡¦ home, with my grandfather¡¦s belly extended by
having eaten his fill of delicious New Year¡¦s cake and the
smoke curling up from his chimney, was a great culture shock
to one such as I, who had grown up in a family of car
mechanics. Although I myself had travelled abroad for visits
or for study, the shock of encountering different cultures
seemed to be less severe than that time of leaving the city
to return to the countryside. Now as I reminisce about when
I was just entering the adolescent stage, it is like a
spiritual transplanting; like when you cultivate fruits and
vegetables, you take sprouts from the seed bed and
transplant them to the field. Although young sprouts have to
endure the trauma of having their fibrous roots severed,
nevertheless when they are transplanted to soft and dark
fertile soil, it is hard to imagine that countless new
living components of the root system surprisingly grow out
of the old wounds where the young roots had been severed.
Soon a new and more hardy root system has been formed that
is much more vigorous than the original one. That experience
of one year in the countryside should be considered the
origin of my choice to travel my current path. |
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Changjing was a traditional village of
central Taiwan during the eighties. Our family that had just
escaped from the frantic pace of the city to the
countryside, in a mere moment, added a lot of pressure on my
grandparents who had not had to contend with so many mouths
to feed. Furthermore, city children who had never engaged in
farm work had to share the various associated tasks. The
first time I shouldered a hoe and held a heavy sharp knife
in my hand, I left a bloody wound on the toes of my left
foot. My little sister, who had never hefted a sickle
before, also made a self-inflicted wound that required many
stitches. Even though the accidents that resulted from
engaging with an alien culture added to us children much
spiritual and physical pressure, still all members of the
family working together in the daily labor of life that was
part and parcel of rural culture added an element of
incomparable happiness to our childhood years.
I still remember that we lacked toilet
paper in that period of life; what replaced paper was the
processed stocks of kenaf that grandpa cultivated. While we
were using the toilet, we could hear the nasal grunts of the
little pigs on the other side of the wall of our common
fertilizer pond. At that time grandpa was still raising a
cow used exclusively by the villagers to pull the plow for
tilling the soil. I, who was neither old nor young in age at
that time, naturally became the best herd boy. Whether it
was a bright sunny day in the heat of summer or a day when
it rained cats and dogs, I was always grandpa¡¦s best buddy
at his side in the rice paddies. When the water buffalo came
wheezing up the field-side path, one had to choose the best
time to poor buckets of cool creek water over his back that
was almost steaming with heat. On rainy days, grandpa would
never forget to stick a piece of rice cake in the mouth the
little child, me, who spent the day in the rain. Sometimes
it is hard to avoid the feeling that the taste of sweat
mixed with rain while squatting by the side of the fields or
the taste when the rain mixed with my tears was perhaps my
constant path towards ultimate happiness.
During the season of planting rice
shoots, helping to load the cart of rice shoots was the work
of the children. When the season of harvest arrived, the
most vexing job for me as a skinny and weak kid was to know
how to safely push the wheelbarrow full of bags of rice
grain back to the rice warehouse. When it was the season of
growth for sugar cane, we had to help strip off the leaves
from the stalks. After harvesting the Chinese cabbage, he
had to trample on the pickled turnips in vats. When
vegetable seedlings started sprouting, we certainly had
endless grass to clear away from them, in addition to
endless swarms of mosquitos to swat away. During these
times, the only thought in our heads was the hope that god
would make it rain so we could close up work and return home
and take a break. Although the work in the fields was
endless, the joy for kids was equally endless. The best
playmates in the country for kids were the bugs, birds,
fish, and animals that were everywhere. Even now, I cannot
forget the giant stage beetle that I dug out from under the
Litchi grove, and miss even more that small tortoise that
scurried in front of me and hid in the mud. If I start
talking about those fruit trees that grandpa planted in the
front and back of his old home like the litchi of June, the
longan of July, the wax apple, the star fruit...and the
local guava that were too numerous to pick¡Xno matter what I
could never eat enough¡Xmy saliva simply never stopped
flowing.
After saying all of this, even I find it
hard to believe that all of these seemingly endless
childhood stories unexpectedly are memories of the span of a
single short year. During the second grade of middle school,
I moved with my family to the bustling capital of Taibei,
inaugurating another period of my young life that seemed to
have no splendor whatsoever¡Xgoing to classes and afternoon
tutoring became the totality of my life. Although later on I
effortlessly went on to a famous high school and national
university, my own heart seemed forever to loiter beyond my
window, awaiting another opportunity to spread my wings and
soar again.
A few years ago, the first time I took my
young children to visit Yilan, the hometown of my wife, I
had been depending on translating Japanese to earn a meager
wage. I finally had another opportunity to become close to
the land. At that time the greatest motivation in my heart
was the hope of providing a happy childhood for my children
that I myself had experienced, one that money could not buy.
When my father-in-law promised to lend us the use of a few
rice paddies, the mood that surfaced from the bottom of my
heart was one of both anticipation and the fear of being
hurt. It is just like back in the day when I used to play
noisily together with a little girl; now she has grown up
into a slender and lovely young woman, and the feelings of
that type of shy reunion is scarcely describable!
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In 2001 occurred the second period in my
life of spending my days in the company of rice paddies.
Because of the support of my good friend Brother He, who had
spent several years in agriculture without the use of
chemicals, and braving the pressure of being laughed at by
family and friends from among the villagers, I determined to
attempt to follow the natural cultivation methods of using
absolutely no agricultural chemicals or chemical
fertilizers. Even though at stake was only a few fields of
rice paddies, and profit and loss were not issues,
nevertheless, it was a great challenge for me to interact
with the land. Can man gain the food necessary to sustain
life without harming the land?
Under the ¡§guarantee¡¨ of all of
our family and friends that ¡§you¡¦ll never make it without
agricultural chemicals,¡¨ our lonely little vessel set sail
within sight of all the villagers. Because we used a
different variety of rice, we started planting the fields
and transplanting rice seedling later than the norm. In
addition to the devastation caused by channeled apple snails
and the overly high level of water, the seedlings we grew
were of poor quality. They looked like pitiful little pale
and emaciated faces filled with sores. It was very difficult
to replace these rice seedlings. Soon after, I encountered
the problem of lack of vitality in their growth. At that
time, the depression I felt can be imagined. Nevertheless,
while I was almost at the point of giving up, I myself
discovered after a few days of not paying attention that
clumps of rice stalks were starting to flower and produce
grain pods. Despite the small stature of the stalks and the
unevenness of nutrients in the soil, their vitality for
reproduction was moving to me. Perhaps they lacked chemicals
that harm human life, but our fields had increased in the
number of guests: greater painted snipes, egrets, frogs,
water snakes, and even soft-shelled turtles and rice-field
eels appeared in our little rice paddies. Only those who
have experienced this zest for life can appreciate the
feeling of satisfaction that comes from creating life and
from living alongside of new life.
In 2004, with the support of all
of my good friends, I returned to these fields that I had
irrigated with my sweat, and truly tasted the zest of being
a farmer. If not for the wild notions of Brother He, in
addition to the response of many good friends, I would never
have believed that this system of cultivating the fields,
for which only a year previously I had obtained capital and
had to shoulder the possibility of loss or damage during
natural disasters, surprisingly was able to attract so much
attention and participation in a few short years. When I
harvested the first handful of bright yellow rice kernels
under the brilliant sun of a July month, honestly speaking,
it was a feeling of inexpressible freedom from care. With
grain stockholders investing money and providing a portion
of the labor, and the field managers supervising overall
management of all agricultural affairs, and given the
stability of this type of system of production and sales
that depended on mutual trust, the only thing I had to worry
about was to accompany and guard the rice paddies, and god
willing, to have a good harvest.
Now that my feet are planted
squarely in the mud, I constantly think of my grandpa who
passed away many years ago. I also remember the words he
spoke that erased the worry that plagued us all. ¡§When our
family eats, it is no problem to add a few bowls and pairs
of chopsticks.¡¨ These are the words he spoke to us to
comfort a family that was close to falling apart, and which
provided a happy childhood for a young child that could not
be bought by any amount of gold. It is only now, while
standing on this muddy path by the rice paddies, that I
realize it was this piece of land under my feet that has
given me this bravery to face anything. At the same time, it
also provided a direction to my life. (Cited from ¡§Qingsong
Rice--Grain Stockholders Club¡¨.) |
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¡iWensi¡jThe
first time I saw Uncle Lai, I discovered the he was a man
who deeply loved the land. Because he always was bringing up
matters concerning the land, it is evident that he is man
who deeply loves nature. Why did Uncle Lai want to establish
the ¡§Grain Stockholders Club¡¨? I think it was because he
wanted to let everybody become closer to nature, to let
everybody experience the joy of going down to the fields to
study how to be a farmer who respected nature. I remember
when I was young one time I was gathering peanuts in my
uncle¡¦s peanut grove; although the heat from the sunlight
was intense and my body was all covered with dirt, when I
collected the clusters of solid peanuts, my heart was moved
to no end. I think that Uncle Lai wants to plant this same
type of moving experience in the hearts of others, and
produce fruit of hope.
¡iHancheng¡j
Mr. Lai Qingsong, manager of agricultural
fields, is a farmer with a M.S. degree. He once went to
Japan to gain his M.S.; his highest professional position
was that of a general-manager. Why did he not miss Japan but
instead returned to Taiwan, just not to bustling Taibei with
its many work opportunities? Rather, why did he come to
Yilan to engage in hard labor in the fields? This then was
the theme of our wild and rambunctious team this time;
moreover, as far as we rookies were concerned, this was
indeed a difficult subject. Gathering information was an
unavoidable step, so I collected some information.
Therefore, this helped me understand why Mr. Lai wanted to
return to the countryside¡XYilan¡Xto cultivate his fields.
Obviously, cultivating fields is arduous, thankless work, so
why would he want to do this? Because Mr. Lai Qingsong
wanted to let others eat this natural rice that was
cultivated without the use of chemicals, so he established
the grain stockholders club out of the wish to produce non
injurious rice. But when he first started, everybody felt
that he was just playing around, even his father. But he was
very steadfast, and would never give up. Every day he would
get up at first light and inspect his fields for any
changes. When he weeded he did not use any chemical weed
killers but would instead weed by hand and plant rice that
was not harmful to humans.
¡iWeiman¡j
The founder of the grain stockholders
club Mr. Lai Qingsong once went to Japan to get his M.A.
degree, and had also been a general-manager. However, he did
not miss these things. Leaving bustling Taibei with its many
job opportunities, he was off to the countryside around
Yilan to cultivate rice and to learn how to be a farmer.
According to his ideal of being close to nature, he founded
a grain stockholders club to highlight his ideal of eating
what one plants, and attracted many persons to join his
club. He felt that living together with heaven and earth was
the only thing that humanity should do; I am in complete
agreement with this point. He worked very hard to realize
the dream he held for himself. At length he used his own two
hands and sweat to cultivate ¡§Qingsong Rice¡¨ that was dense,
soft, and chewy, altogether like chewing gum. But farmers
who depend on the weather for the food they eat, no matter
how determined or how hard working they are, can only shake
their heads and sigh most of the time once a natural
disaster occurs. However, how do you control your mood when
a bad situation occurs? It is very important to not let
outside influences affect your mood and do your best to
control it. Mr. Lai Qingsong¡¦s moods sometimes change along
with the changes in the weather, but he always does his best
to control his moods. Mr. Lai Qingsong¡¦s spirit of being
close to nature is very admirable, and worthy of our
emulation. It is also the precise direction he is working
towards at present. He also hopes to be able to let more
people enjoy Qingsong Rice. |
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