Write the story of old farmers - Mountain City Voice E-Newsletter, inviting you to join us in chronicling the lives of old farmers

My father was a bamboo shoot farmer. The number of people who have eaten the shoots he grew runs into the tens of thousands. The sweet flavor of those bamboo shoots is unforgettable, yet no one remembers his hard work.

Every morning at a little past three, while I was still lingering in the warmth of my bed, my father was already up. He would put on his work clothes, strap on his headlamp, light a mosquito coil, clamp a Yellow Longevity cigarette in his mouth, and walk into that deep, dark bamboo grove. There, enduring mosquito bites, he searched for tender, delicious shoots.

I often asked my father curiously, why did he have to get up so early to harvest bamboo?

My father always answered: "A farmer is a child of heaven and must learn from heaven. That is how you gain abundant life wisdom!"

"In the evening, you start irrigating so the bamboo gets plenty of water. The heat given off by the fermentation of the straw covering the bamboo roots boosts the bamboo's activity at night, so it stores all the essence of the sun it absorbed during the day inside the shoots. That makes the shoots grow quickly and become the most tender shoots. Once the sun climbs high, the water is drawn out of the shoots and released through the leaves. Any shoots harvested then are too old! They lose their texture completely, and they are not so tender and tasty to eat!"

"When you cut bamboo shoots, you also have to watch how the shoot is growing. Usually there are several buds beside a shoot, and those buds can grow into another shoot. So when you make the cut, the angle has to be right. Don't cut and damage the shoot's buds too! That way there will be a steady supply of shoots to harvest again and again, and our livelihood will be secure."

My father often sighed and said: "City people don't know what they're missing. Bamboo shoots are best eaten right after they are cut, only then can you truly taste how fresh, sweet and tender they are. After long-distance shipping and sitting around, they have long since lost that most natural flavor!"

Now my father's body, as humble as a blade of grass, lies quietly there, enduring with the earth! The life wisdom he learned from heaven has vanished with him!

Now I often enjoy all kinds of delicious food. This is food produced by millions of hardworking farmers just like my father. I hope that while savoring the flavor, we can also remember these farmers' hard work and the life wisdom they learned from heaven. Let us use words, images and other means to thank them for their toil! To understand their lives!

You are also welcome to join in and record it! Please send your manuscript to[email protected] and note in the subject line: Writing Biographies for Old Farmers

The Mountain City Voice work team looks forward to your participation!