See How Taiwan's Fruit Farmers Grow Local Happiness

Text / Lan Lijuan

You ask me, why write a book about Taiwan's fruit?

A few years ago, I once loudly declared that I wanted to find myself, and traveled all the way to the wine estates of New Zealand to learn how to tend vineyards and make wine; little did I expect that when I returned to Taiwan and set off on a bicycle trip around the island, I would discover that Dacun Township in Changhua County, right under my nose, could also grow such high-quality table grapes and wine grapes.

Three years ago, when I was cycling around the island, I passed by the banks of the Zhuoshui River in Yunlin County and saw round, plump watermelons lying on the river, with campaign flags that fruit farmers had recycled stuck in the sand to serve as plot markers for the melon fields. For the first time I understood that Taiwan's best watermelons all grow on river sandbars, and that river sandbars have such value that Taiwanese people have known how to make use of them for a hundred years.

A few days later, when I rode my bicycle through Luye Township in Taitung County and saw a pineapple field for the first time in my life, I gasped again and again. How old was I, and only now did I realize that pineapples grow on the ground!

You ask me, would the me of today laugh at the me of back then?

No.

Because, like most people who grew up in the city, I was very unfamiliar with where fruit comes from, let alone the value of Taiwan's fruit.

We may have eaten bananas, yet not know that for more than sixty years, bananas once earned Taiwan a great deal of foreign exchange. We have eaten lychees, but do not know in which season lychees can be eaten, or where lychees are produced, and even less that lychees are a Taiwanese fruit that the Japanese coveted. We love eating mango shaved ice, yet may not understand that Taiwan's Irwin mango, though clearly an American variety, could conquer Japan's fresh fruit market. We may haggle at supermarkets or fruit stands, yet not understand that only the early-harvested fruit is sent to market to face consumers, while the ripest and most delicious fruit is stranded in the production areas and cannot be shipped out, turning the sweat of fruit farmers into tears.

We may have no way to appreciate the beauty of Taiwan's fruit until we travel or go on business abroad, and at hotels and restaurants in Tokyo, Paris, London, Sydney, Vancouver or Shanghai, after the meal we cannot get juicy, delicious watermelon or sweet-and-sour pineapple, still less taste the ripe aroma of Irwin mangoes; when we finally find fruit from home in a supermarket, we are shocked by the numbers on the price tag and can only quietly put the fruit back on the shelf, hating ourselves for never having cherished the value of Taiwan's fruit back home.

In other words, we eat fruit, yet know nothing about Taiwan's fruit, why it is so diverse and delicious, or how it came to be.

Back in Taipei, I chatted with my older sister Lan Yanqiu about the mangoes, bananas, lychees, pineapples, watermelons, kumquats, tomatoes, grapes, plums, sugar apples, passion fruit, and other fruits I had seen along the way during the round-island trip. My sister holds a doctorate in plant pathology and entomology from National Taiwan University, and she reminded me: "Did you know? Taiwan has more than forty-five kinds of fruit, and most of them are not native varieties. If you count by cultivar line, there are more than one hundred and fifty varieties!"

"Really!" I was greatly shocked.

Why is it that these fruits crossed the oceans to Taiwan, yet could grow so abundantly, so well, and so cheaply? Taking root here, blooming and bearing fruit, and flourishing?

The desire to explore was buried deep in my heart and my sister's.

By a lucky coincidence, this year Wu Yunyi, editor-in-chief of the publishing department of CommonWealth Magazine, and Chen Junliang, Asia's most influential designer and design director of Free Fall, met and talked, and as they chatted, Taiwan's fruit became the topic.

Chen Junliang felt that fruit is a precious asset of Taiwan, worthy of being elevated to the level of the cultural and creative industries. In recent years, he has taught at several important design schools in the country, leading many students in studying Taiwan's fruit culture, and has devoted himself to presenting the wonderful flavors of Taiwan's fruit through refined packaging design.

And Wu Yunyi spoke of how CommonWealth Magazine has always paid attention to the people, events, and things on Taiwan's land, reminding people to cherish their hidden value. She proposed that the publishing department of CommonWealth Magazine should publish a book exploring the stories behind Taiwan's fruit, shining a spotlight on the fruit farmers.

As the child of farming friends, although I have a deep affection for the land, I had never imagined that a major publishing house would be willing to invest a large amount of resources in publishing a book on an agricultural theme that seemed not mainstream enough and not very commercially valuable. But the atmosphere of that conversation exhilarated me, and so we resolved to join forces and build this book together. Through this book, my sister and I traveled from south to north and from east to west across all kinds of fruit production areas, digging up moving stories of fruit and fruit farmers.

Several months later, we completed this book, "Indeed Taiwan: Growing Local Happiness." During that time we went through the plasticizer scandal that caused a great uproar and made people pale at the mention of it, the heartbreaking collapse of banana prices, and the intrusions of typhoons that threatened at every turn. Although the price of these events was great, they let the true flavor of fruit emerge like the sun breaking through the clouds, revealing the dawn, all the more precious.

As the author, I hope that in the future, everyone on this land, when tasting every bite of Taiwan's fruit, will be able to talk about the stories of Taiwan's fruit as if counting family treasures, and that everyone can serve as an ambassador of Taiwan's fruit, speaking eloquently to every tourist who steps into Taiwan.

Talk about what? Talk about being moved, talk about cherishing, talk about how Taiwan is a treasured land, a treasured land where any fruit wants to take root.

Interviewing and writing this book was an exploration; through the publication of this book, we want to tell readers an important discovery: Indeed Taiwan! Indeed, only in Taiwan can local happiness be grown!

On what basis?

On the basis of Taiwan's diverse and unique terroir, which allows fruits from the frigid, temperate, and tropical zones to take root and bear fruit on this land, hold their heads high, and break through internationally.

On the basis of every fruit farmer guarding the land with their life, so that all kinds of different fruits of happiness can be nurtured.

On the basis of Taiwan's outstanding agricultural technicians and diligent fruit farmers, whose characters create a rich and honest sweetness.

Fruit, terroir, and people; these three major elements are indispensable, and around Taiwan they have created the pride of Taiwan's fruit and in turn upheld the dignity of Taiwan's fruit farmers.

Through the ten kinds of fruit, ten kinds of character, and the moving stories of twelve fruit farmers in the book, we want to achieve the sweetness that we take for granted but that the international community is amazed by.

Image courtesy of CommonWealth Magazine Publishing House

You ask me, why write a book about Taiwan's fruit? On the eve of the publication of "Indeed Taiwan: Growing Local Happiness," we want to say to you loudly:

Because of Taiwan, therefore sweetness; "indeed" only in "Taiwan"!