A report in the paper said that duck herders still drive their flocks over long distances just as they did when the island was recovered from the Japanese! After asking around, I finally learned through folklore expert Huang Wen-po that there might be two flocks near the Peimen River of Tainan.
"Oh, are you the one who flew here on an airplane to take photos of ducks!" asked an incredulous Mama Huang as I came through the door. Obviously photographing ducks has become no small matter.
The old duck herder is in his sixties, and he can't even say his own name very clearly. After wandering about taking odd jobs, he has been herding for four or five years. Starting from Peimen, he stays at each stop a week or two, leaving when the boss says to. At the appointed time, nearly 10,000 ducks get on big trucks and go to the next stop. "Oh, there's less farmland these days," he says. Now, in addition to rice, ducks are given some supplements to make them grow big and fat.
"You're not cold sleeping on the ground?" "Who cooks for you?" "What about bathing?" The carefree, resigned-to-their-lot nature of a duck herder is shown as he chats, responding to some questions and ignoring others.
When I was leaving, I turned my head to ask him, "Where's the next stop?" "Oh, the location?" he said. "Oh, I don't know!"
On the journey back, my ears still rang faintly with the "oh"s of the duck herder.
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