Lin Ch'in-chih and his family live in Tali just across the river from the city of Tai-chung.
When the flood of July 27 is mentioned, which almost reached his hydroponic vegetable plot, Lin remarks that all the planning to fix up the Tali River has never amounted to more than, "You wash your face in it, and I'll rinse my behind." In the thirty years since the big flood of August 7, 1959, there have been no visible improvements.
At this juncture, the beeper on his belt goes off: a vegetable dealer is calling to place an order for tomorrow morning. "The flood ruined the harvest for conventional farmers, so the dealers are all trying to buy from us hydroponic farmers," he smiles, adding that he's been so busy he hasn't even had time to play golf.
Just across the lane from Lin Ch'in-chih and his hydroponic garden, his father still rises at dawn and works till dark, stooped over in the fields planting seedlings and watering them from a bucket. He constantly gripes how the harvest was looking bad even before the flood.
Both are farmers, but their methods of operation are as different as night and day. And just like the difference between father and son, Tali itself is changing. . . .
Tali is a satellite community of Taichung, and with the development of Taichung in recent years real estate prices in Tali have soared. Because the general impression among country people is that overseas Chinese are rich, farmers who have made a fortune by selling off their land are called t'ien-ch'iao, or "overseas Chinese from the fields," while those who still till the soil but whose land has appreciated in value are called yuan-wai, or "supernumerary officials."
Not bearing to sell simply means waiting for higher prices. "Even if they haven's received any money yet, it's still a joy to know it's there on paper, and they work even harder at farming," says Liao Chi-ju, who heads up the agricultural office for Tali Village.
After they sell their land, most of them buy an apartment in the building put up there, so they still feel they are living on their own property. They put away part of the money they have made from selling in the local agricultural cooperative, and they use the rest of it to buy more land in the neighboring areas of Wufeng, Nantou, or Puli, according to the observations of Chang Liang-hsiung, the owner of a local building and real estate firm. "They've lived all their lives on the land," he explains, "and in their conservative way of thinking, they believe only in land. They're afraid to invest anywhere else."
A pair of brothers surnamed Li relate that, in their common experience and that of their friends, young women in the past never wanted to marry a farmer, because they had to help out in the fields and the life was tough. Things are different now though, they say. "Before they were afraid if you had too much land, but now they don't want you if you have too little."
Lin Ch'in-chih, who runs a metal furniture business as well as a hydroponic farm, comments that "farmers of an earlier generation looked for high-grade paddies to support their families, but for our generation it's lowg-rade fields." The low-grade land is zoned for urban development, he explains, and the farmers there long ago became million-aires, but the high-grade fields are zoned for agriculture, so the farmers there keep on working the fields while their sons go out in the world to look for a job.
A 1985 report by the Council of Agriculture shows that the farming population of Tali Village dropped from nearly 19,000 in 1952 to 12,000 by 1985 and that the cultivated land surface declined from more than 1,800 hectares to around 1,500.
In fact, even before regional planning was carried out on Taiwan, many low-grade fields in Tali had already been converted to residential, commercial, industrial, and other nonagricultural uses, so the town had already lost a lot of its "rustic atmosphere."
Lin Min-fu, the only real estate agent in town who is locally born and raised, spreads his hands and explains matter-of-factly why so many other agents from outside have swarmed into the area in recent years: "Where there's grain to be had, there'll be sparrows."
The reason for the boom is analyzed less colorfully by Wang Neng-ta, who heads the Tali branch office of the Pacific Rehouse Co. Tali may be incorporated within the city of Taichung, he says. Even now the town is just ten minutes away from the Taichung train station, and the number ten bus connects it with every corner of the city.
While farmers in the village are still rising at dawn and working till dusk, new buildings with ultrasonic massage tubs and all the latest conveniences are already going up on the outskirts of town. Village repre-sentative Tseng Chung-kuang is concerned. "We're developing too quickly here," he says. "It looks like progress, but in fact the quality of life is gradually deteriorating."
An evaluation of Tali in a report from the 1970s on the development goals for Taichung County pointed out the town was growing extremely fast and had the potential for industry. No one lived on the banks of the Tali River then and the land was zoned for industry, so many firms putup factories there since land was cheap and the popu lation so sparse.
No one expected that so many residential communities would spring up there in the past few years, resulting in constant disputes over air pollution, water pollution, and waste disposal. The most serious case was in the Jenhua area, where there were ten cases of cancer on one street in two years. The fingers pointed at a nearby pesticide factory and pig raising ground, the runoff water which were believed to have polluted the residents' crops and water sources. That was the background against which the island's first private environmental protection organization was set up at Tali four years ago.
At the same time that local residents are happy about higher real estate values, they have been increasingly troubled by more factories, pollution, construction, crowding, and trash. . . .
When the big rains came on July 27 and fields were washed away, bridges collapsed, dykes broke, buildings were flooded, and water stretched everywhere, the Tali people paid a big price for rapid urbanization.
This year's flood wasn't as big as the flood of thirty years ago, but the damage was more serious. Most townspeople would blame the increased damage on the slow pace of planning to improve and manage the Tali River, but a water conversancy employee who was measuring the depth of the river after the flood asked, "Don't they realize that dumping trash and reck-lessly building on the banks is also a reason?"
Cho Tang-ts'un, the mayor, was visiting the United States for a short period of study when he saw reports on the flood in his own village and called back to find out more.
The townspeople of Tali never expected that steady urbanization would result not only in making a name for themselves locally but in international fame as well.
Tali Village and Vicinity
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Lin Ch'in-chih (above right) and his father, Lin Chiang-hai, farm right across the lane from each other. Lin Ch'in-chih has built a greenhouse where he grows vegetables hydroponically, but his father sticks to the traditional ways. Both are farmers, but their methods of operation differ completely.
Lin Min-fu, the only real estate agent in Tali who was born and raised there, prides himself on being "fair and plain dealing."
This is a bird's-eye view of the old section of Tali. Most of the low buildings seen through the scaffolding belong to the Lin family, who are big local landowners.
The Kuang San Construction Co., which is building a sixteen-story luxury high-rise in Tali, looks favorably on the town's prospects for development. So does Wang Neng-ta, the local branch manager of the Pacific Rehouse Co., who explains that the Taichung train station is just ten minutes away.
The tomb of Lin Yun-ch'ing, an official during the Ching dynasty, is the only historic site to speak of at Tali. The grounds are also said to be the ancestral resting place of the Lin fami ly of Wufeng. The paddies behind the stele were originally a graveyard, but the only indications now are the steles, the stone candle sticks, and the overgrown gravesites.
The thick foliage of this tree spreads out like an umbrella. A local legend relates that the Chia-ch'ing emperor of the Ching dynasty once rested under it during his tour of Taiwan. The tree has been deified under the title of Parasol Tree King.
The residential district of Tali is a hodgepodge of high-rise apartment buildings, fields, and factories. Some residents worry that the mix ture is causing the quality of life to deteriorate.
Dull light in the eyes. To be the most vital life in the plain. Frozen in a pose. Wondering if the hunting season has arrived.
Family reunion in a mountain wood. A perfect line of wild beasts. Emerging from the early morning fog. Looking for a fertile land where the flowering season.
Family reunion in a mountain wood. A perfect line of wild beasts. Emerging from the early morning fog. Looking for a fertile land where the flowering season.
Family reunion in a mountain wood. A perfect line of wild beasts. Emerging from the early morning fog. Looking for a fertile land where the flowering season.
is at hand. Keep heading east. To be a migratory bird. Choosing to stay in a small vale is dreary.
is at hand. Keep heading east. To be a migratory bird. Choosing to stay in a small vale is dreary.
post-shower rainbow. Only able to plod along the road. To be a modern wolf. Unable to howl, flaunting wildness from a high cliff. It's not as good as hanging out tamely on a tree.
post-shower rainbow. Only able to plod along the road. To be a modern wolf. Unable to howl, flaunting wildness from a high cliff. It's not as good as hanging out tamely on a tree.
Movie stars have a lot of charisma and they are often invited to be camp aign assistants. Sometimes they even make the audience forget the candidate altogether! In the past campaign vehicles tried to catch the voters' attention by vo lume if nothing else. Today this is seen as "noise pollution," and many candidates have opted to abandon this traditional tactic.
Movie stars have a lot of charisma and they are often invited to be camp aign assistants. Sometimes they even make the audience forget the candidate altogether! In the past campaign vehicles tried to catch the voters' attention by vo lume if nothing else. Today this is seen as "noise pollution," and many candidates have opted to abandon this traditional tactic.
Movie stars have a lot of charisma and they are often invited to be camp aign assistants. Sometimes they even make the audience forget the candidate altogether! In the past campaign vehicles tried to catch the voters' attention by vo lume if nothing else. Today this is seen as "noise pollution," and many candidates have opted to abandon this traditional tactic.