Residents of the quiet, simple village of Chienkung, having created a top-flight water and forest park, will now try to turn the entire village into a garden setting. (Jimmy Lin)

This is the story of a group of middle-aged hometown men and multitalented Hakka mothers who worked together to build their ideal of a garden community, transforming a landscape once said to be haunted and taboo into a renowned water and forest park.

Chienkung Village, which lies in Hsinpei Rural Township, Pingtung County, is an ordinary Hakka village. The village is oriented around the pavilion at the Temple of the Kings of the Three Mountains; the pavilion and the old town gate stand sentinel at the two ends of the village.

As in most farming villages, four-fifths of Chienkung's population of 1,200-plus households is made up of the elderly and of children. Young people make up no more than one-fifth of the village population.

"All the farming villages are deserted," says Chang Ching-tai, Chienkung village committee chairman. Come noontime, those who haven't prepared their own meals come out for a bowl of Hakka noodles at Chienkung Restaurant, the town's only eatery.

The "restaurant" is actually just a small noodle stand that is one of the few places where young people can gather. On the wall of the restaurant is a hand-drawn map on construction paper, showing the Temple of the Kings of the Three Mountains, the old town gates, and the village chief's house. Another prominent site on the map is the Chienkung Water and Forest Park.

Chung Chan-hsiung, the village chief, says, "In the past, I really didn't know how to introduce our village to others. Now, as soon as I mention the Chienkung Water and Forest Park, people immediately know about us."

The weather cools off at dusk, and the children's forest playground swings into action at its site beneath the elephant's ear trees. Kids clamber up onto an observation deck and descend via a slide; they climb around on the jungle gym set up among the betel nut trees, giving free reign to their sense of discovery and imagination. The elderly sit chatting at tables and chairs made from coconut palms, some of the furniture even sprouting wood ear fungus after the rain!

At the Number Two Habitat Lake, naturally irregular boulders form a V-shaped river bed with lemongrass and coconut palms planted all along its banks. "Listen to the water. This is not just a channel that can carry a large amount of water, but it also provides us with the rushing sound of water over stones," says Chung with a smile. As the villagers used their farming skills to create this park, they never realized that they were doing what "ecological engineering," so popular nowadays, tries to accomplish.

Entering the Number Three Wetlands Habitat, just completed this past spring, one sees goshawks quietly perching atop driftwood. In the pond, water parsley, hygrophila, and a dozen other aquatic plants sway with the waves. Most interesting are three uniquely shaped pavilions. Chung asks, "These pavilions were constructed with the broad-brimmed rain hats of the Aboriginal, Hakka, and Southern Min peoples in mind. Can you guess which is which?"