Nightshade, Buguzi, and taro enter the songs; "Wild Lotus Leaves the Village" sings of rural food heritage

(Continued from previous article) When Taiwan, China joined the WTO in 2002, the Labor Exchange Band created "Night March of the Chrysanthemums," with Lin Sheng-xiang singing the elegy of rural transformation, and lyricist Chung Yung-feng profoundly writing out the farmers' lament. 18 years later, the two have once again collaborated on "Wild Lotus Leaves the Village," paying tribute to the post-WTO countryside.

Chung Yung-feng observed that the way rural areas sought alternative outlets was not by planting internationalized crops, but by finding a native aquatic wild vegetable: wild lotus. "I wanted to describe, through writing about food and plants, a countryside closer to its true self, and that became the album 'Wild Lotus Leaves the Village.'"

The following content unfolds as a first-person oral account from Chung Yung-feng's interview.

"Taro Cake" talks about the rural ecology in children's rhymes and the maternal love invested in food

As just mentioned, Meinong would not give up good land to crops other than rice. Meinong grows betel nut taro, which needs a great deal of water, and they don't want it using up too much rice paddy area, so it is often seen at the foot of hills or on irregular plots below embankments. In these places with a big drop from the ground level, where water flows year-round, women plant some taro.

These places usually also have loaches, eels, water snakes, and white-breasted waterhens, so the taro planting area is actually a small ecological habitat, often accompanied by fireflies, dragonflies, and butterflies. These ecological experiences became the subject matter for many rural children's rhymes.

Moreover, taro cake in Meinong custom is made at the Ghost Festival in the seventh lunar month, used to "honor ancestors and good brothers." Many taro cakes in the communal kitchens are made very thick, actually so that the children who return home to pay respects can take some back with them. At the Ghost Festival, when we go back, we all get a very thick piece. I later felt this seems like a kind of mother's blessing, heavy in the hand, like a spiritual ballast stone, letting children who travel far go far and walk steady.

"Taro Cake"

Seventh lunar month, grain oh grain all dressed up
Mama quick on her feet, the big stove steams taro cake
In the main hall, we honor oh honor the ancestors
Taro fragrance pierces the nose, good brothers cross to deliver the lonely (pierces: links together)

The young swallow, flies oh flies over the ridge
Mama's heart, hopes her child returns to taste
Taro cake, thick oh thick year after year
Like stone pressing the boat, steady and going far

"Husai without Hollow Stems," "Hit Wuzi," "Pigeon Pea" - the culture and village significance recorded in wild vegetables

In the past, when Meinong farmers were weeding among the rice, two kinds of vegetables would be picked out separately: "husai" (husai, also known as duck-tongue grass) and wu tong geng (spicate false pimpernel). Farmers would collect them to take home and cook as wild vegetables. To remove the bitterness of the wild vegetables, Meinong people would use lard to release the aroma and add bean paste.

At the time I was thinking, why could they eat wild vegetables for so long without getting tired of them? It is the effect of time and distance just mentioned. Wild vegetables became a kind of food memory, and after enough time, they became very important dishes in the family.

In the early days, wild vegetables were a very important source of dietary fiber in rice culture. Because what was picked was eaten by the farming family itself, and because a habit of eating wild vegetables was established, farmers could naturally restrain the amount of pesticide they sprayed.

Nightshade, called "da wu zi" in Hakka, has edible leaves and fruit, and for dryland farmers it is a very important plant companion. South of Japan's latitude, this crop has all kinds of ways of being eaten and all kinds of names.