People of the Sea: A Close Look at Fishermen's Life at Sea
Text by Chen Ying-en (member of the 2011 Summer Farming Taixi interview team)
Introduction
Yunlin was an entirely unfamiliar place to me, let alone Taixi Township in Yunlin, on the westernmost edge of Taiwan, China. When it came time, before Summer Farming ended, to decide on the location for the second-stage interview, a friend's urging, together with my own intense curiosity about the unknown, led me to choose this fishing village on the west coast of Taiwan, China. In the sweltering heat of mid-August, I boarded a bus from the towering high-rises of Taipei, and after a journey of several hours arrived at Wutiaogang in Taixi, a place full of low buildings, gray and hazy, with a slightly rough-and-tumble air. I stepped onto this land in a state of "zero," full of anticipation to get to know it.
The Coastal Landscape of Taixi: Inverted Racks, Floating Racks, Standing Racks
Photo / Piles of oyster shells laid out beside the coast
The person who helped arrange our interview itinerary was Mr. Wu Hung-chun, a staff member of the Shallow Sea Aquaculture Association. After satisfying the hunger of a long journey at a noodle stall, Mr. Hung-chun drove us to Sanjiaolun Seaside Park. On the left side of the car window was a harbor filled with rafts, while on the left was the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex Mailiao plant site, which almost dominated most of the horizon. Because I had long heard of its notorious reputation, I was surprised by the vast area of the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex and also felt a sense of disgust.
After getting out of the car, a vast expanse of sky stretched out before us, held up by the azure sea, on which unknown objects floated up and down in piles. When I asked Mr. Hung-chun, I learned that they were oyster racks, places for raising oyster seedlings, and the ocean was like a mother's amniotic fluid. According to different methods of construction, oyster racks are divided into three types: inverted racks, floating racks, and standing racks. Different forms of oyster racks are placed according to different coastal conditions. Mr. Hung-chun explained that floating racks are suitable for deep-water areas, because the oyster shells are tied to the bottom of the floating racks, and the oyster seedlings inside are soaked in the sea all day, so the flesh is the most delicious, but the oysters are relatively small; standing racks stand upright, one by one, and are usually placed on coasts with a large tidal range; and since we were standing on the beach, the ones easiest to see were the inverted racks placed in shallow-water areas.
I curiously asked, do oyster farmers all recognize which oyster racks are theirs? Mr. Hung-chun said that oyster farmers usually mark their own oyster racks, for example by tying on a plastic bottle or a strip of cloth. He also said that the sea areas that can now be used are mostly allocated by unwritten rules, often sea areas passed down from generation to generation. But after the industrial zone moved in, besides occupying land for the plant site, the pollution discharged also directly affects the transfer and allocation of oyster rack areas. So oyster farmers and the Shallow Sea Aquaculture Association hope to fight the government for fishery rights, so that at least when using sea areas there is legal protection, rather than always being pushed into the margins because of the industrial zone moving in, and in the end not even having space to work and survive.
The sea breeze on the Taixi coast is truly strong, and because of the scorching afternoon weather, we could not stay long before riding back to Wutiaogang, which is the most prosperous area of Taixi, arriving at Anxi Temple, where we would stay for four nights.
Anxi Temple is the largest temple in Taixi, dedicated to Generals Zhang, Li, and Mo. It is the local center of faith and can also be called the place of spiritual sustenance for the people of Taixi. In fact, Taixi has many temples. Later, when interviewing Mr. Ding Tsung-ming, deputy secretary-general of the Shallow Sea Aquaculture Association, who raises hard clams, he said, "The more temples, the lower the education level," because the people of Taixi generally have lower levels of education, so they often rely on seeking religious belief for solace.
When Both Feet Step into the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Petrochemical Kingdom
After placing our luggage in the pilgrim hostel at Anxi Temple, we returned to the office of the Shallow Sea Aquaculture Association to discuss the theme of this interview. The main axis of the interview unfolded around the life history of oyster farmers, drawing out several branches: industrial structure (including the evolution of industrial technology, the oyster industry chain, and the production and marketing system), the development context of the Wugang community and its life and religious culture, and the relationship between industry and local politics. We also drew up the list of people we wanted to interview, including oyster farmer Sister Zhang, Mr. Lin Chin-lang, chairman of the Shallow Sea Aquaculture Association (who also raises oysters), Deputy Secretary-General Mr. Ding Tsung-ming (who raises hard clams), the chairman of the Wugang community, and Sister Zhang, a middleman in the oyster industry.
Very fortunately, because of Mr. Lin's position as a supervisory committee member for the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex, he secured for us a visit to the complex. Even more fortunately (one could say fortunately, although we were thoroughly angered, at least because we faced it personally and experienced how people in different positions truly have different values about this world), we had the chance to talk with Mr. Wu Ching-ping, deputy manager of the public safety department of the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex, though I am not sure whether it could really be called a "dialogue."
Throughout the process he kept trying to seize control of the speaking floor and tried to persuade us, saying that the petrochemical industry exists all over the world, citing the United States and Europe as examples, saying that if compared by proportion of area, the pollution from Taiwan, China's petrochemical industry is already relatively mild, and also saying that every industry has its dangers, that we cannot always criticize the pollution of the petrochemical industry but should look at the relative value of pollution. "Do you think Europe is stupid for developing the oil industry?" Deputy Manager Wu said. In addition, he said that without the petrochemical industry, where would Taiwan, China's economic development come from, "80% of raw materials come from petrochemicals; without the petrochemical industry, humankind would have no chance of survival."
At that time we were sitting around a large round table, and my seat was directly opposite him. I stared at him firmly and hard. I still remember vividly that Deputy Manager Wu's remarks enraged me. I was dissatisfied that he belittled the importance and value of other industries, especially agriculture and fisheries, which sustain human survival. I was even more angry that he deliberately ignored the external costs caused by the petrochemical industry, all of which are absorbed by the ordinary people around it, exchanging people's health, the environment, and even the sustainability of industries for the benefit of a few.
The emotion of anger was like boiling magma, no longer able to stay churning underground, and in an instant burst out onto the surface. I blurted out, "People can go without clothes, but they cannot go without food." Although I immediately regretted my impulsiveness afterward, I also witnessed how one sentence of mine enraged the formerly gentle and rational Deputy Manager Wu. He told me, "You are already a university student, you should think before you speak," and then said that Taiwan, China's agricultural problems should be national problems. Although the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex inevitably affects the agriculture, fishery, and livestock industries in surrounding areas, this should be the responsibility of the state, rather than shifting the blame onto the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex. Formosa Plastics is only an enterprise.
What was even more absurd was that Mr. Lin Chin-lang pointed out that among residents of Mailiao and Taixi, because of the establishment of the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex plant site, cancer rates had continued to increase over the long term, and that the oyster racks set up in the shallow sea, because the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex often secretly discharged improperly treated wastewater into the sea at night, combined with rainfall causing suspended particles in the atmosphere to dissolve into seawater, not only made Taixi and Mailiao always filled with a gray, somewhat depressing and dispiriting hazy scene, but also caused the number and variety of algae in the sea to decrease year by year. Algae are precisely the nutrients for the growth of oyster seedlings, so Taixi's oyster seedlings grow smaller and smaller, and even become diseased.
Faced with these well-founded and obvious causal relationships, Deputy Manager Wu, as a cadre of the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex, gave a flippant answer: "This is a matter of local residents' 'perception.' If this air were really toxic, then we would be at the greatest risk, but I work at the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex and I do not feel anything wrong with my body. I have worked for fourteen winters and never gotten sick, so this is a personal health issue." One classmate in our group tried to use the RCA case to discuss with the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex. Deputy Manager Wu's response to this question was that RCA and the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex had different historical and temporal backgrounds, so they could not be mentioned in the same breath.
Perhaps the historical circumstances were different. Directly comparing the RCA case with Formosa Plastics' No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex indeed ignores the influence that structural factors may have caused, such as government policy (including the direction of industrial policy and the laxness of environmental pollution controls, etc.), pressure from the international situation, and even the entire social atmosphere filled with the desire for economic development to bring about a prosperous life. But what I think can be discussed is how the government, enterprises, and citizens of contemporary Taiwan, China can rethink the image of Taiwan, China's future, and what the "prosperity" in our lives actually looks like.
"Development," in the final analysis, is an abstract term. How to interpret it should differ from person to person and from place to place. When the government talks about "development," we Taiwanese, as the subjects surviving on this land, perhaps need to start from the most fundamental and most concrete daily life and think about what kind of "development" can allow the greatest number of people to satisfy their living needs and preserve the dignity of life. And such "development" absolutely cannot be "absolute," singular, and state-led; that is, it cannot be like what Deputy Manager Wu said, "without the petrochemical industry, humankind would have no chance of survival." In my imagination, "development" is instead based on the local, so its appearance should be diverse and diffuse. More importantly, it has no fixed model, but continuously enters into relationships with society during the process, a dynamic process close to "people."
Through this kind of thinking, I believe it is possible for Taiwanese to open up space, take back the right to interpret "development," and then begin concrete practice. It also tests how the government and financial conglomerates, in their short-sighted pursuit of immediate gains in industrial development policy, destroy not only the sustainability of people, ecology, environment, industry, and culture, but also, because of interest-oriented developmentalism, belittle the value of traditional industries such as agriculture and Taixi's oyster industry, directly or indirectly depriving farmers or oyster farmers of the right to choose to continue farming or raising oysters.
This is not to say that industrial development is unimportant, or to treat the petrochemical industry as a monolithic block and erase its necessity and value, since the petrochemical industry did indeed drive Taiwan, China's economic development and is a product of an era. What I am trying to clarify is that the state should have comprehensive and long-range planning for industrial development, whether for the petrochemical industry, the so-called "zero-pollution" high-tech industry, or traditional agriculture, fishery, and livestock industries, rather than favoring one over another and pushing one to the extreme, causing industrial crowding-out effects and disorder in the natural and social environment.
Photo / Inside the Formosa Plastics No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex Mailiao plant
Do Not Rush to Think About "Doing Something"
It was not only the helplessness of local residents; the five-day, four-night interview process may also have been affected by the scenery. Taixi made me deeply feel its gradual decline and hardship, like an elderly person. Apart from the morning market, lively with vendors hawking their goods, and Wutiaogang, the area where relatively more people and shops are gathered, most places in Taixi are quiet, open, and even carry a somewhat gloomy air. Especially after evening, when night falls, it is like a frail small town, while at the other end of the horizon a fiery light flickers and sways: the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex Mailiao plant, jokingly called "Fire-Burned Island" by everyone.
After listening to Mr. Lin's sharing, actually entering the No. 6 Naphtha Cracking Complex plant site, talking with managers and several staff members, and getting along with residents of the Wugang community, we members of the interview team gained a most preliminary understanding of Taixi. We wanted to do something, but at the same time also faced a sense of helplessness, as if unarmed and unable to exert force, especially since local politics has enormous influence in Taixi, something we students found hard to understand, let alone touch.
At noon before leaving Taixi, Mr. Lin specially called us back to the office of the Shallow Sea Aquaculture Association and asked each of us to talk about our observations and reflections over the past few days. Almost every one of us mentioned that we wanted to do something for Taixi and its residents, but also the sense of helplessness that surged up afterward.
Mr. Lin listened, and then, in the role of someone who had been through it, gently but earnestly told us that he very much hoped that after this interview trip we could continue to return to Taixi. If we really wanted to do something for Taixi, we first had to properly organize our feelings from these past few days. "Feelings" are very important. Record everything we found interesting, bitter, or moving, whether going out to sea or visiting the oyster vendors at the morning market, and the interviews with oyster farmer Sister A-mei, Mr. Lin, Mr. Ding, the community chairman, and the middleman who sells oysters, or every corner we wandered through in Taixi and every person we chatted with. Interweave all these experiences as the foundation for understanding the fishery, the oyster industry, and the community.
Mr. Lin said that organizing work still requires on-the-ground participation and practice for it to be possible. Our understanding of Taixi and the oyster industry was still very superficial. If from the very beginning we thought about "doing something" or "helping with something," that idea would be too heavy a burden. Only by first understanding our own feelings and relationship with Taixi and the oyster industry would it be possible to "do something" in the longer-term future, and only then would the road last long.
Photo / At the market a little after six in the morning, women shucking oyster shells; these oysters had all just been harvested from the sea that morning.