Youth Rural Aid, Issue 1: The Rural Movement in Tugou

Yesterday evening, on the drive home from work, I happened to spot a rainbow arching over Pillow Mountain to the east. I immediately called the office and told the colleagues still there to step outside quickly so we could share the pleasant afternoon rural scenery together.

This morning a colleague said, "After we got your call, we all ran outside to look at the rainbow, and we even made wishes on it!" "What did you wish for?"

Actually, what I really cared about was not prying into my colleagues' wishes, but wanting to keep that joyful atmosphere going. I do not know whether it is because we live in the countryside, but these small joys always keep happening. If I were to talk about the beautiful scenery of the countryside, compared with the ceaseless traffic of the concrete jungle, it truly makes many friends who live and work in the city envious. Everyone holds a longing for the countryside and envies that I can live in a place they only visit on vacation.

A small, joyful scene in the countryside

Actually, the countryside is not perfect either. For example, the smell of pig manure has always troubled me. When the south wind blows, that salty, heavy stench of pig manure is truly hard to bear. I once curiously asked Uncle Rongmo, who lives near the pigsty, why he was not afraid of the smell. He answered, "Once you smell it long enough, you get used to it!" I thought to myself, I have already lived here for more than eight years, so why am I still not used to it?

Also, in summer, at around six in the evening and around eleven at night, armies of mosquitoes always show up as if by agreement. This regular foraging schedule always disturbs our tea drinking and chatting under the pavilion. Strangely enough, once the time passes, they clock off and rest too. Even after living in the countryside for so many years, I still cannot figure out the reason for this regular harassment.

When I was a student, I lived in the countryside because of my thesis fieldwork. Back then people would call it "settling in for observation" or "stationing in the village." Although most of my friends did not really understand it, most of them could accept it.

After finishing my military service, I decided to stay in the "rural settlement" and start a business. This decision went through several family meetings, and most of my friends found it hard to believe. Most people would ask, "Why do you want to stay in the countryside? Are there many job opportunities in the countryside? The city surely has more job opportunities than the countryside, right?" Looking back now, the main reason I wanted to stay in Tugou was really just one thing: "people."

It was like when I first arrived in Tugou and asked Uncle Qingxiu, who was already in his eighties, why he did not sell his water buffalo since he was so old and no longer had the strength to raise cattle. He just answered lightly, "Ah, it is just fate!"

The team with Uncle Qingxiu and the old water buffalo (first from the right is the author)

Fate, then, has let me and a group of partners stay in the same place for more than two thousand days so far, moving forward together toward our respective dreams...

I still remember one night when Axin, Mike and I discussed rural revolution on the stairwell of the fifth-floor research room at Tainan National University of the Arts. We planned to drive a small truck around rural Taiwan, with Axin, who spoke the smoothest Taiwanese Hokkien, as the main speaker, hoping to spark a rural revolution. I also remember that we took part in an architectural education exchange program held by the Ministry of Education. Before visiting communities run by other schools, we held meetings, analyzed the intelligence gathered online, and worked out questions and discussion strategies...

So many shared experiences accumulated into mutual trust and an inseparable revolutionary bond. Although each of our partners had different plans for the future, we could still accomplish things for one another by working together.

In Tugou, besides my graduate school partners, the elders of Tugou made me admire them even more.

When I was a student, I lived in the old home of the association's secretary-general, and we often chatted until sunrise. Around four in the morning, when "Uncle Broadcast," the captain of the environmental volunteer team, rode past on his motorcycle and saw the studio lights still on, he would always turn in and nag us with a few words of concern. During the family visit for my military basic training, Uncle Qingpi and Uncle Rongmo came to see me with hand-torn chicken. My fellow trainees asked, "Are they your relatives?" I smiled and answered, "They are my friends." I still remember the incredulous expressions on my classmates' faces. In their hearts they must have been thinking that nobody has friends as old as their grandfather. Another time, a junior schoolmate who was a driver got drunk and clung tightly to the village chief, shouting, "The village chief is like a father, and Aunt Rongmo is like a mother!"

That is right. The elders of Tugou took care of us students like fathers and mothers. So much understanding and concern gave us "old" friends who are both like family and like brothers.

Tugou's "old" friends, who are both like family and like brothers

"People" are the key to community building.

For ten years we have experimented through action, repeatedly reflecting on ourselves and learning. Those journeys are made up of countless little details. For example, in 2003, the Tugou Camphor Fragrance Tunnel used rice straw and bamboo to create landscape art; in 2004, college students were mobilized to build a house for Tugou's last water buffalo; in 2006, a blog for Tugou agricultural products was set up; and there were also the "Peaceful Bamboo Foot" art renovation project, the "Hometown Living Room" art intervention space project, the "Watery Dream" innovative dream-fulfillment project, and so on, too many to describe fully.

In 2008 we established our first company in Tugou, called "Water Buffalo Design Tribe," mainly doing architectural landscape planning, design and construction supervision for public spaces. So far, full-time staff have grown from the initial three to twelve. Most of my colleagues come from the community and nearby townships, which could also be considered a different kind of youth returning home. In 2010, another company, "Elegant Farmer Art Workshop," was also founded in rural Tugou, mainly working on art curation, creation, and the planning and execution of arts and cultural activities.

In 2010 we also planted rice for the first time, becoming elegant lazy farmers. In the spring of 2011, we carried out the "Molecular Chain" rural experience activity; in summer we raised funds to hold the "Build It Cool, Build an Ideal" farmland installation art action, and established the "Rural Art Attack Team" to promote exchanges between youth and the countryside. On one hand, we use the passion and vitality of young people to unleash creativity and care for the countryside through art. On the other hand, through the countryside's rich culture, experiential knowledge and life values, we influence young people.

This year, standing with farmers on Ketagalan Boulevard on 7/16 and making our own banners on 8/7 to go to Xizhou Township to oppose the Central Taiwan Science Park grabbing water were recent concrete actions. In the future, we hope even more to use this platform to let young people enter the countryside in more diverse ways, and also to share more small joys with all our friends through News&Market.

The Rural Art Attack Team supporting Xizhou's opposition to the Central Taiwan Science Park grabbing water on 8/7

The rural movement in Tugou has never stopped over these ten years, and today it continues.