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?"

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.

Forbidden mountains

The entire Water and Forest Park covers 22 hectares. Mahogany trees grow mingled among coconut groves. Also situated here are three garrison buildings used as field hospitals during the era of Japanese rule.

"These were 'forbidden mountains' in the Qing dynasty. Under Japanese rule, the forest was protected for its water resources. Neither cutting timber nor entering the forest was allowed," says Chang Ching-tai.

Many ghost stories have sprung up around the forest, with its tall trees that seem to reach to the sky and the dank moisture of its wetlands. A few old men share the stories that they heard in their childhood years:

"They say a woman hanged herself in the forest," recounts one. "Another time, a forester was crushed to death by a tree he was trying to fell," says another. And finally, another remembers, "At Hsinpei Junior High School, right next to the forest, someone even caught an apparition on film."

Despite being a place that some dare not enter, the forest boasts pools fed by living springs. It is a place that absorbs the falling rainwater in the summer and releases its spring water in the winter, serving as a natural reservoir for Chienkung. Intimately connected with the villagers' daily lives, the water from the forest's pools flows into the village itself, allowing residents to wash their clothes in the mornings and fetch drinking water in the evenings.

During the Nationalist era, the government came into the forest to access its timber. Government workers cut down mahogany, replanting them with the then-valuable coconut palms. With the forest's trees being cut down, as well as the fact that the villagers were beginning to tap its underground aquifers, this place, formerly so forbidding and so filled with ghost stories, became a neglected wasteland, overrun with weeds and strewn with trash.

At dusk, children play in the habitat pool, and the elderly sit and chat. There's no need to go outside the village, because they've created their own paradise here.

Those who remained

In 2000, the concept of integrated community development began to take root in Chienkung. As part of their efforts, residents began to visit villages in neighboring areas that had already instituted community development projects. One was the canal restoration at Linpien Rural Township, of which 90% had been accomplished by the townspeople themselves. Chung Chan-hsiung, Chienkung's village chief, was inspired. After preparing a development proposal, Chienkung applied for NT$800,000 in funding, and a group of villagers set out to work on their "dream garden."

Village committee chairman Chang Ching-tai used his expertise as a math teacher and busied himself with the necessary measurements and calculations for the park. For the children's forest playground, Chang designed the observation deck, determined the angle at which to set the slide, and calculated how much wood would be needed for the project. Using timber from the coconut palms, the most abundant local source of wood, the villagers built the entire playground themselves. As for the Water and Forest Park, the work was also done entirely by the villagers in the first three years of its construction; it was only after the arrival of workers on a job creation scheme that they shifted to park maintenance duties.

Compared with their own daily farming chores, which include growing rice, bananas and watermelons, working on the park meant something very different for this group of middle-aged men and women.

Hakka villages are places with a deep-rooted sense of family. Thus, even when it is difficult to make a living, at least one of the sons will stay behind in the village to care for the parents and the family's fields. Lai Chao-lieh, the township office director, remarks, "As the saying goes, 'while your parents are alive, don't travel far away.' We're the ones who stayed behind, and we became the main volunteer force for the park."

The Water and Forest Park is a prominent spot on the hand-drawn map that hangs on the wall at the village noodle stand.

Watching clouds rise

Many of the volunteers, born in the 1950s, are college graduates who ended up staying in the village to care for their parents. They rolled up their pant legs and took to the fields as farmers. But deep down, it was probably difficult to avoid the feeling that they still had ambitions yet unrealized. Thus, working on their "dream garden" has given them a very concrete sense of achievement. Says Chung Chan-hsiung, "Since we've always been here in our hometown, things like building houses, fixing up pavilions, and planting flowers and trees aren't really much of a challenge."

Moreover, to farmers, banana and coconut trees signify work, so even when the fields of their farms are lush and green, they would never feel relaxed in that setting. "We don't drink and we don't sing karaoke. In fact, we don't really have a sense of what 'recreation' means," say some of the volunteers.

"Now, when I see old couples sitting quietly in the Water and Forest Park after a long day in the fields, I feel very moved. People here are finally starting to understand what it means to relax and rest," says Chung.

After seeing the completion of the "community garden," Chung hopes that all of Chienkung becomes a "garden community." Park volunteers have taken flowers cultivated in the park hothouse, such as roses, sweet osmanthus, and periwinkles, and used them as prizes to give to the villagers to take home during park activities. Now, just about every home garden in the village is blooming with beautiful roses!

Chienkung is not the only community that has taken up the work of self-beautification. On the "right bank" of Linpien Creek one finds not only the Hakka village of Chienkung, but also the Southern Min village of Linpien, the Pingpu village of Chihu, and the Aboriginal village of Laiyi. These four ethnic communities have created what's known as the "Right Bank Alliance."

As each park has its own unique style, these communities learn from each other and push each other forward. In this way, the power of the people's "dream garden" flows like the waters of a stream into the different corners of Taiwan.

In the Water and Forest Park, pavilions designed and built by residents represent the broad-rimmed rain hats of different ethnic groups. The villagers' dream of building their own park has also spread, following the course of Linpien Creek.