Whether for food, shelter, cloth-ing, education or healthcare, modern people need to earn and spend money in order to meet their needs from cradle to grave. This belief is taken as a simple fact of life and is rarely questioned. Few people spend any time considering other ways to live.
But a young man named Abu (Huang Peng-chi by birth) has had the courage to say no to this way of life. Why can't one get by without a "real job"? Why do you have to buy your clothes? Why do you have to listen to experts in order to live a healthy life?
Abu, who lives in Linkou, meets his needs with only NT$5000 a month. He doesn't have a "real job." He raises his own vegetables, makes compost, and even writes books to promote his lifestyle. As for food, clothing, shelter and transportation, he does as much as he can with his own two hands and thus avoids spending money. With great sincerity, he shares with others, helping them and accepting their help. He neither saves money nor takes out insurance policies. He has also spent some time accompanying "high-risk adolescents." Currently, he is working with a large group of people, including both friends and strangers, to erect a second-hand bookstore in Linkou, which will provide a place for public interest groups to meet, as well as space for art and cultural exhibitions.
A visit in the first weekend in August revealed Abu's construction site to be an area of exposed earth surrounded by trees and paddy fields. Six steel pillars had already been erected. Pieces of wood-some new, some old-were scattered here and there under the harsh glare of the sun. Seven or eight men and women, none resembling a construction worker, were at work-some measuring and drawing lines, some cutting wood with electric saws, some removing nails from old wood, and some applying recycled motor oil on the wood to prevent insect damage.
After a rough beam was cut three meters in length, everyone put aside their own projects to place the beam so as to span two steel pillars and subsequently fasten it with bolts. When Abu, who just then returned to the site, discovered that the beam was positioned incorrectly, they had to take out the bolts and start over.
Among those helping to build the structure were Abu's friends, Internet pals, and several complete strangers. There was a housewife from Taipei, an engineer from the Hsinchu Science Park, a teacher from Hualien, and some self-employed people. They had signed up after reading on the Internet about this "working vacation" in which they would pool their efforts to construct the building. Some of the money for the project came via an NT$200,000 grant from the National Youth Commission for "Youth Community Activity Plans." Some of the funding came as donations from friends or from the NT$4000 activity fees charged to the student builders (representing a month's tuition).
Among these students were many whose families had land and wanted to learn the ropes before raising a building on their own. Others had heard the call of nature and come purely to contribute their labor and get a workout. But what about Abu himself? Why did he want to build this structure with his own two hands?
"Was it to save money? Or was it better for the environment? Or would it be cool to say later that you had built it yourself?" asked Abu in his blog. He explained that he would answer "yes" to all those questions. But none of them was the main reason. The main reason was "to regain life skills."
In order "regain life skills" and erect this building, Abu (top row, far left) called together 20-30 companions to enjoy an "ecological vacation," build this structure together and realize a dream of sustainability.
Searching
"Modern urban people have thoroughly 'atrophied' and lost life skills. When it comes to food, do you know how the food you eat is produced? We don't know how to plant or reap crops, or raise silkworms to make clothing. We can't build houses, let alone cars or bicycles. And when it comes to relying on your two feet, do you have the strength to carry a load of fish all the way from Chinshan to Shihlin along the old fish trail?"
Abu believes that the life skills that lasted from ancient times to the generation of his grandparents have been eroded by the division of labor in modern society. People receive long educations only to enter the workforce. They end up being a cog in a machine, spending their lives busily at work. Yet they are helpless to do anything about so much of what is truly important-such as famine, exploitation, or education that is out of touch with the realities of life.
He believes that if we don't try to change, then all we can do is lament and shake our heads about being caught in the great web of the socioeconomic system. Yet by relearning some "life skills," you gain capital with which you can fight off being controlled by the system, and can go a step farther to fight against social, economic and environmental degradation.
"It's time to put aside what you've learned, roll up your sleeves, and do something with your own two hands!" All of what Abu advocates begins with rediscovering life skills.
With his own two hands and under his own power, Abu plants vegetables, makes compost, and deals with most of life's necessities: food, clothing, shelter and transportation. He leads a simple but enjoyable life.
Amateur landscaper
The path to regaining life skills is a winding one. Abu proves to be no exception.
An electronics graduate from Minghsing Institute of Technology, Abu held regular jobs during a five-year period after he finished his military service. He marketed wines and cigars for an import-export firm and served as a photojournalist for a travel website. For one stretch he worked from home as a freelancer. Then in the spring of 2002, a homestay owner he had once interviewed mentioned that he had a piece of land on Yangmingshan that he wanted to develop as a coffee shop with a garden. He asked Abu to go into business with him. Abu took all his own savings plus money borrowed from his family-NT$300,000 in all-and started to live out his back-to-the-land dream.
Relying on his previous experience of planting herbs for more than a year and his insatiable curiosity, he rented some land from the homestay proprietor and with his own two hands created the Silk Valley Herbal Garden. He diligently read books, perused flower markets, visited other people's gardens, and learned by doing. "Many people said that I was taking too great a risk, but I replied that you can only know that by actually doing it. I felt that it would be the greater loss not to try." From the planning of the cafe, to the purchasing of construction materials and plants, to the actual clearing of land, laying bricks and planting seeds, he did it all, learning as he went. In about eight months he had split the 1000-square-meter garden into various areas, including a pavilion, a patio, and areas of flowers and raised beds. He grew ten to 20 different kinds of herbs, as well as flowers, maple trees, and cherry trees. Apart from the roof and the wooden bar-work that he contracted out-Abu planted every plant and laid every brick himself.
Abu once built his own herb garden up on Yangmingshan. He published a book about those experiences in the hope that more people would learn how to coexist with nature through the art of gardening.
Just do it!
Planting isn't the hard part. The hard part is keeping the plants alive so that they grow big. One time a row of flowers he had planted began to be denuded at the rate of a plant a day. He couldn't figure out what was responsible until he was inspired one night to go out with a flashlight to catch the culprit in the act. He discovered that one plant was covered in snails. Over the next three nights, he caught the snails, and gradually the crisis abated.
"If you're going to be a farmer, then sweating, suffering exposure to the sun, and bearing with aches and pains go with the territory," says Abu, who notes that he grew increasingly "rough and strong" in the process. What required greater adjustment was getting into synch with the ebbs and flows of nature and its seasonal changes. For instance, after successive days of hot weather, he would worry about how his tender lavender shoots were coping. When the plum rains came, he would have to constantly check to see whether his thyme was dying. During a big rain, he would worry about the soil in his flower garden washing away. During typhoons he couldn't sleep as he waited for daybreak. And the next day he couldn't help but run out in the wind and the rain to pull his flower trellises back up and support his torn canopy fabric.
Yet all these setbacks and hardships never overwhelmed his sense of being moved by nature.
"Today my entire life is in tune with the simple rising and setting of the sun, with watering and hoeing," wrote Abu in Building My Herbal Garden, which he published during that period. "A white cloud that floats by slowly, temporarily covering the harsh sun, is enough to bring me happiness, and a newly sprouted seedling can make me laugh.... I am blessed."
When teaching a group of "high-risk adolescents" how to plant, tend and pick vegetables, Abu got the kids to put down their defenses by giving them the same gentle treatment he gave the plants.
Agricultural experiments
That time under the glare of the sun and shadows of clouds lasted for a year and a half. After he had operated the cafe and garden for seven months, with the business gradually getting on track, his partner, the owner of the homestay, decided no longer to rent to him. "He probably thought that I was too impulsive in my management style and that there wasn't any profit to be made!" Leaving the herb garden he had built with his own hands, Abu had regrets, but he also appreciated the opportunity his partner had given him to live out his dreams.
After coming down off Yangmingshan, he returned to his old family home in Linkou, a traditional Chinese home with a three-sided front courtyard. He had left it 20 years before, and now it lay empty. He began to clear the land and renovate the house. He planned to give himself a year to learn how to become a true farmer and then decide whether he would make a living from farming.
Within a year, he discovered that he wasn't cut out for the hardships of farming-what with awakening at 5 or 6 a.m. and working until noon, before heading out to work again until sunset. Problems with marketing his produce also proved impossible to resolve. Having come to a clear, first-hand understanding of the true hardships of farming, Abu decided instead to make "public service" the goal of the next stage of his life, and he turned farming into a life-long hobby instead.
A teacher and friend
His work with high-risk teenagers was also a result of happenstance.
During the period that he was "experimenting" with being a farmer, he once helped out a hiking companion by taking a group of "difficult" children out on a hike. Afterwards he had an inspiration: "Why not let children of this kind get their hands dirty by growing vegetables?" And so, on his own initiative, he went to Kanyuan Junior High School in Shulin and convinced the school to give him a piece of land to try out this curriculum.
"Once again, it wasn't until I became a teacher that I learned how to teach." Abu recalls that at first many students treated him coldly or hardly acknowledged him at all. "I demonstrated for them how to loosen the soil, plant seeds, make compost... and then tried to be their friend." Abu believes that everyone wants to be treated fairly and with respect. Adopting that attitude, he was able to wait patiently.
So as to allow them to gain a sense of self-affirmation, Abu arranged, as part of the regular curriculum, to have them help teach students from the special education class (who were mentally challenged or suffered from learning disabilities) to plant in the flowerbeds. Afterwards, he asked the special ed. students to write his students thank-you notes, which their teacher formally handed out in class.
"They had never considered that one day they would win a prize," Abu says. Even if it wasn't much, it did a lot to encourage them. Some kids even said with regret, "How come they didn't hand them out up on stage?" The kids started to show more courtesy, and their behavior in general took a turn for the better.
"I didn't expect that there would be a tremendous change in a single semester or year in school," Abu explained. But all 14 students did end up graduating; none dropped out. And that in itself was gratifying.
Bookstore in the fields
Generally speaking, when looking at Abu's accomplishments over these years, how is it that he has been able to do things that others can't, even though he lacks money and impressive credentials?
It is obvious that Abu treats people with generosity and sincerity (for instance he published a book in which he completely revealed how he constructed his herbal garden and compost), and this attitude makes his friends feel happy to help him. For example, when his funds were insufficient to construct the building for the bookshop, a friend contributed steel girders worth NT$60,000. Yaman, a volunteer who helps teaching building techniques, previously helped Abu with his book. And one of the big secrets to Abu's success is making good use of discarded things. In Abu's garden of fragrant flowers, he has turned a few old glass bottles, hemp ropes of various sizes and driftwood into a beautiful fence. Not relying upon ready-made goods has stimulated Abu's inexhaustible creativity. On the speckled red-brick walls of the house he has painted squares and lines in yellow, white, orange and blue. These give the building a very post-modern feel. And he makes perfumed soap of a quality that is in no way inferior to the imported stuff. He sells these for NT$100-200 a bar. He is also an accomplished cook with herbs.
By the second week of August, the roof was already constructed, and Abu was crawling around on the five-meter-high roof fastening the last two brow posts. When conversation turned to how the site would end up looking, Abu explained that he planned to create a pond with water plants on the north side of the building. It will help to treat wastewater and also will supply irrigation water for the vegetable garden and rice paddies.
The bookstore itself will focus on such areas as literature, ecology and farming. He will make coffee from beans that he roasts himself and will serve seasonal vegetarian meals using produce from the garden. There won't be a set menu or set prices. Customers will pay what they like. If customers want to go out to the garden to pick vegetables themselves, he will happily give way to them in the kitchen....
In anticipation of the building's completion this autumn, how about planning a visit to this bookstore amid the fields, with hot coffee, cool earth, and warm hospitality?
