At a parking lot next to the Hanhsi police station in Tatung Township, Ilan County, Pan Chin-sheng of the Bulaobulao Farm picks up guests coming to visit his farm. His jeep then rattles off across the dry riverbed and up muddy dirt roads.

Pan, 50, used to work in Taipei as a landscape designer. His wife is an Atayal Aborigine from Tatung. Three years ago they left Taipei and moved back to Tatung, beginning a new life there in Hanshi.

Born to a farming family in Taipei City's Peitou, Pan grew up on a farm. Choosing landscape design as a profession allowed him to remain close to the land. Ten-some years ago, when artificial turf was just about the only choice for a courtyard surface, Pan was a forceful advocate of "eco-greens," which, instead of using expensive and high-maintenance artificial turf, let germinating grasses compete with each other to create a groundcover best suited to the environment.

His love of nature gave him the determination to go to Hanhsi to pursue his dream of farming in a rural setting. The six-tenths of a hectare that his wife owned was insufficient to realize his bold ambitions, so he persuaded the local Atayal to pool their land and cultivate it using natural farming techniques. After three years of consolidation, about ten hectares have now been assembled as a natural farming Shangri-La.

In the village's poultry area, chickens, ducks and geese-all raised without antibiotics-have plumage that shimmers in the sun. When harvesting the millet in the fields, farmers form a line, each bending over at the waist. The pickers take bunches of millet and pass them systematically to the village senior at the end of the line, who gathers the bunches into large sheaves. Under the harsh July sun, sweat drips from one's brow before there is time to wipe it off.

Millet used to be one the staples of Taiwan's Aborigines. But with the ROC government campaign to move Aboriginal villages after World War II, Aborigines became more and more removed from their fields, and many Aboriginal settlements haven't planted millet for decades. When Pan returned to Hanhsi, "growing traditional crops" became one of his main goals.

"It's been decades since millet has been grown here!" excitedly says 65-year-old Biho. And this is the first time that several young Atayals who have returned for summer vacation have ever touched millet.

Another local resource that Bulaobulao makes good use of is mushrooms. Because there is ample rain in Ilan and Nantou, and the forest canopy blocks the sun, the area has long been known for its excellent mushrooms. Those grown in Hanhsi are particularly cherished. Back when transport was difficult, middlemen would exploit growers, who abandoned their operations.

Under the deep shade of Bulaobulao's trees, neatly laid out sections of woodland Elaeocarpus trunks serve as mushroom beds. In the fall experienced mushroom farmers drill holes in the trunks, plant spores in them and then turn them over and over. To maintain a natural environment for mushrooms, Pan insists on not spreading plastic sheets, and he doesn't separate the wood from the soil. Through the wood, the mushrooms absorb the essences of sun, moon and rainwater and are able to grow thick, meaty and sweet smelling. With such high-quality produce, the crops sell quickly despite being priced at several times the market average.

Aiming to diversify, Pan organized the preparation of Atayal-style meals with farm-grown produce for tourists last July. The emphasis is on fresh seasonal vegetables that retain their natural flavors, matched with millet wine and millet dumplings. With a nice presentation, these "traditional" meals were very well received.

Under the shade of trees, several Atayal elders carve wild boars from tree ferns. The clean lines have great vitality. Pan has adopted a new approach-plowing when the weather is clear and doing handicrafts when it rains-to revive traditions and restore vitality to the tribal village. Natural farming, and planting and harvesting in accord with the seasons, have given the village a flavor all its own.

With great joy, Atayal elder Biho, 65, bundles bunches of millet into sheaves. The crop hadn't been planted in the village for decades.

Remote Bulaubulau can only be reached by driving jeeps across riverbeds.

Remote Bulaubulau can only be reached by driving jeeps across riverbeds.

The chickens and geese of Bulaubulau, which live free of antibiotics, have plumage that shimmers.