With wild vegetables grown in nature, there is no need to worry about residue from pesticides or chemical fertilizers. These vegetables are also rich in vitamins, iron, calcium, and other nutrients. They have thus become a healthy new option for the diets of contemporary people.

The overgrown, narrow mountain trail actually is a treasure trove of edible plants. These two indigenous Moms are happily picking some.

The aboriginal people of Taiwan still use many of these edible wild plants in daily life. They are not only a source of food, but may also provide commercial opportunities for developing their home villages through an industry directly related to their traditional culture.

Excitement is building as the Dragon Boat Festival approaches. Far removed from the intense urban jungle, the village of Darumak, a community of the Rukai tribe in eastern Taiwan, sits quietly at the foot of the mountains in Peinan Rural Township in Taitung County.

This place use to be called "Ta'nan Village." However, the name was changed to "Tunghsing Village" after it was reconstructed following a huge fire during the Mid-Autumn Festival 30 years ago. Yet no matter how the Chinese name of the community may change, for the Rukai indigenous people, this place has always been "Darumak." With the great majority of the young people having left to seek employment in the cities, the pace of life here is more laid back than ever.

Recently, this small village, with a population of only 1600 or so, has unexpectedly had many new visitors.

Wild vegetables hit the table

In the intense heat of May in eastern Taiwan, the small streets and back alleys of Darumak are largely deserted as people try to stay out of the sun. A group of people has gathered at the home of Lin Te-tsu, a Rukai whose aboriginal name is Tinebenga, to enjoy a sumptuous lunch.

The round table in the main hall is covered with traditional Rukai cuisine. The main dish is made up of sticky rice mixed with streaky pork or shrimp and wrapped in the leaves of the jiasuanjiang (Trichodesma khasianum), a wild plant with an alluring fragrance and a chewy texture. This dish provides a pleasurable explosive sensation. Another treat has golden scrambled eggs embellished with emerald Chinese Toon (Cedrela sinensis). The "long-leaf xianjue" (Nephrolepis biserrata) is also excellent, though perhaps not as pleasing in texture as the once-popular dish guomao (Anisogo-nium esulentem), which has a sticky-slippery-bitter-juicy feel. . . .

Confronted with a table of dishes made up mainly of wild plants and vegetables, visitors who are used to eating fish and meat all the time cannot help but be surprised and even a bit dismayed. This type of reaction is not rare in the "wild plant" restaurant opened by Lin Te-tsu. Lin has been running his restaurant for nearly two years now. The dishes all originally used "wild plants" growing naturally and gathered from the mountains, though these days the plants are now deliberately cultivated in a garden. (Though these plants are cultivated organically, in Chinese they are still referred to as "wild plants" to distinguish them from organically grown mainstream crops.)

Yet, despite such reactions, and despite the fact that Lin's restaurant is located in a small Rukai village at the foot of the mountains, the word has gotten around, and even the mayor of Taitung, Lai Kun-cheng, often brings guests here. "These vegetables are all picked by the boss himself, so they are as fresh as can be and don't have any pesticides on them," says Lai. The mayor is not forgetting that this is a good opportunity to introduce special local products of the Taitung area to visitors from afar.

Healthy trend

In recent years organically grown vegetables have become increasingly popular. "Wild" veggies, grown without depending on man-made fertilizers and not using pesticides, fit right in with this trend. Add to this the common belief that bitter tasting foods have medicinal value, and wild vegetables have become a new favorite for health-minded modern people.

In the evening market in Chi'an Rural Township in Hualien County, every day many indigenous people bring wild plants and vegetables that they have picked themselves. Mountain bitter melon sells for NT$40 per catty, with wugus (an aboriginal name for Asplenium nidus) going for NT$50 a bunch. And you can find many other wild plants on sale here. Besides local residents, many tourists also come to the market. Decked out in their recreational outfits and carrying sunglasses and cameras, they occasionally ask the merchants, "What vegetable is this?"

Currently, many hotels and tourist sites in the Taitung-Hualien area are adapting to the growing trend and offering "wild vegetable" meals. Take for example the Luye Plateau, renowned for its "Fulu Tea." Because these fields are gradually being turned over to organic farming, many wild plants now grow in the farmland. The local tea industry demonstration center has begun to include these wild plants in the ranks of "tea snacks," and to promote sumptuous meals featuring "the taste of wild vegetables." Over the past year or so, the number of tourists eating such dishes has steadily increased. Indeed, when there is a two-day weekend, and even more tourists than usual come, it is necessary to have a reservation beforehand.

Probably many elderly indigenous people are amazed to see that the wild vegetables that they have long picked at their leisure are suddenly popular, and are even being served in up-scale restaurants and hotels. Liu Chung-hsi, director of the environmental education center at Taitung Teachers College, who has been promoting indigenous peoples' cultural industries for a long time, feels that Taiwan's indigenous people have many treasures that could be the foundation for economic development. Unfortunately they don't have any experience with mass production, and lack marketing channels.

In the past large amounts of money have been spent building and promoting tourist resources in the Taitung area. These schemes have often resulted in serious damage to the area, such that even many aboriginal people who had looked to such ideas to make their villages more prosperous have become dismayed. Today, people are beginning to recognize that, if there is better understanding of aboriginal culture, then aboriginal cultural resources can become tourist attractions in eastern Taiwan, and then more and more aboriginal people will return to their home villages and contribute toward building economic autonomy for the aboriginal people.

Liu Chung-hsi adds that is would be even better to think of such "tousism" to indigenous areas as a form of "cultural exchange" or "interaction with nature." From this point of view, visitors are simply appropriately repaying the aborigines for what they gain in the exchange.

Liu was one who encouraged Lin Te-tsu to open his wild vegetable restaurant. In order to insure a steady supply of ingredients, Lin planted "wild" vegetables-including wugus, Taiwan pepper, and jiasuanjiang-in his special reserved land in the mountains. Lin's plants peacefully coexist with the natural forest on the mountain slope. There has been no need to clear the land, nor to add man-made fertilizers. As we walk through the mountain forest, which is pierced by shards of sunlight, it takes some effort to follow the nearly indiscernible small path which has been worn into the grass. Lin jokingly calls it "the mountain goat path" as he leads us into his vegetable field.

Domesticating wild veggies

Because of the popularity of (originally) wild vegetables, several varieties have been planted in large amounts. The Hualien Agricultural Improvement Station (AIS) is undertaking research into popular edible plants such as wugus and mountain bitter melon. Two years ago, it was mistakenly rumored that the once popular guomao contained carcinogens. Though this was a case of mistaken identity for another member of the same plant family, it cooled off the enthusiasm for wild vegetables for a time, and many farmers suffered serious losses. But the success of wugus is bringing wild vegetables back into public favor.

On another front, because Taiwan is poised to enter the World Trade Organization, Taiwan agriculture must face competition from imported agricultural products. Cheng Shu-hsing, an assistant in the AIS horticulture lab and a specialist in wild vegetables, explains: "We are encouraging localities to develop specialized agricultural products in small volumes but greatly diversified varieties. Although production volume is low, by diversifying and growing unusual crops, farmers will better their chances of surviving WTO admission and soften its overall impact on agriculture here." In one corner of the AIS, Cheng anticipates having 24 "demonstration plots." In the future, these can be used to preserve 24 varieties of plants traditionally used by aborigines.

In the greenhouse, Cheng is undertaking an experiment on how picking frequency affects the wugus' rate of growth. Meanwhile, Chun Jong-ho is culturing small seedlings of the wugus. Cheng explains the purpose of these experiments: "We hope we can improve their resistance to insects and to disease, and we also hope to increase crop yields and improve the texture of the vegetables."

The father-and-son team of Huang Chao-chih and Huang Chun-hua of Hsincheng Rural Township in Hualien County have been raising wugus for more than five years under the guidance of the AIS. Currently their production yields and income are very stable. In the backyard of the family home, there are two barrels of yogurt and milk powder. This mixture can be sprinkled on the wugus leaves as organic fertilizer. "Not only does this provide nutrition to the wugus, it is also eaten by the insects that prey on the wugus, so that they don't suck out the sap," notes Cheng.

Confined to the margin?

With modernization and large-scale cultivation, the wugus has become increasingly hot property, and is departing from the ranks of "wild vegetables." It is being changed into an ordinary "crop." Compared to the Huangs' wugus field, Lin Te-tsu's garden is very small-scale, and his cultivation methods are very rudimentary.

Hung Yi-chang, an indigenous person of the Ami tribe and currently an associate professor specializing in aboriginal health research at Tzu Chi Buddhist General Hospital, notes that promoting products related to aboriginal culture is indeed helpful to improving the lives of aboriginal people. However, when it comes to the market economy, aborigines are still unable to compete with the Han Chinese, and at best they can only occupy the margins. "After going through Han Chinese hands, the prices of a lot of things increase, and aborigines have to turn around and buy things back from Han Chinese. So we often say that if there's anything good, it's best not to let the Han Chinese know about it," sighs Hung.

Though this may be the case, the agencies of the government concerned with aboriginal affairs still encourage indigenous people to develop products related to their culture in order to improve their lives. The Council of Aboriginal Affairs (CAA) of the Executive Yuan has a budget of NT$200 million for a four-year program to strengthen the development of various aboriginal industries including agriculture, forestry, fishing, animal husbandry, and tourism. The Taiwan Provincial Government's own CAA is in the process of full-scale promotion of agricultural products with a uniquely aboriginal nature. Including agricultural improvement stations and farmers' associations, across Taiwan there are 58 agencies cooperating with this program. It is hoped that support can be given to aboriginal people for everything from production techniques to marketing channels.

Septuagenarian Chiu Yu-chuan, whose wife is an aborigine, is currently cooperating with the CAA and AIS in experimenting with different methods of growing mountain bitter melon, such as covering the fields with nets, using arch-shaped lattices, or having the plants grow along the ground. He is also the head for production and marketing of wugus for the Hsinhsiu Farmers' Association of the Hualien area. He often has to rush to the Hualien airport to catch planes so that the freshest wugus can be shipped by air to the various large cities in western Taiwan.

Eating in fives and tens

Modern management techniques and large-scale production and marketing were never part of aboriginal traditions. "Indigenous people would never deliberately go and plant wild vegetables, they've only learned to do this from Han Chinese," says Liu Chung-hsi. As part of the effort for agricultural extension, Cheng Shu-hsing has come into contact with many indigenous people. He hopes that full support can be provided for production and marketing, but the only problem is, he says, "Most of the farmers who take the initiative to come in and inquire about cultivation of wild vegetables are Han Chinese."

In terms of the operational aspects of selling wild vegetables, Han Chinese are again a step ahead. Traditional aboriginal cooking methods were rather rudimentary. Wu Hsueh-yueh of the Ami tribe says that they just boil in a big pot or eat raw whatever vegetables they happen to pick. At most, culinary techniques stop at adding some salt. And for dining, there is little attention paid to utensils or to any particular rules of etiquette.

According to the ancient text Lin Haishui Tu Zhi (Records of the Land Next to the Sea), written by Shen Ying during the Three Kingdoms Period, Taiwan aboriginal people in those days ate "in tens and fives." This custom of everyone eating together has continued down to the present day. Wu Hsueh-yueh points out that often when people are gathered together chatting and drinking, someone will cook up a pot of vegetables to munch on. Though this may be quite fun, many of the younger generation of indigenous people worry that this is not sanitary or healthy, and they are gradually adopting the culinary customs of Han Chinese.

Recently, quite a few Han Chinese have been giving serious attention to the preparation of wild plants. Lin Miao-chuan, an associate researcher at the Hualien AIS, discovered the wonderful taste of wild vegetables more then ten years ago. Besides having tried many different dishes and written up recipes, she has gone on to advise aborigi-nals in preparing for chefs' qualifying examinations. Currently more than 70 have passed the B-level examinations, and two have attained the A-level qualifications, allowing them to work at the finest large hotels in the country.

Seeing that many Han Chinese appear to be so concerned about surveying and recording aboriginal culture, Wu has, over the past two years, begun trying to collate and systematize aboriginal culinary culture. She has already identified and recorded more than 100 varieties of wild edible plants.

The most able to "eat bitterness"

Wu notes that most wild vegetables are bitter. The Ami aboriginal people eat a lot of bitter foods. They not only eat the mountain bitter melon, but also its even more bitter leaves. In a play on words on the Chinese expression "to eat bitterness," (which means to endure hardship), the Ami have earned a reputation as "the people most capable of eating bitterness." "However, people today aren't so capable of 'eating bitterness,'" puns Wu, "and it is necessary to take this into account in food preparation."

As a case in point, she says that when boiling tengjue hearts (from the plant Arthropteris palisotii) one cannot keep lifting the lid off the pot. The more times the lid is lifted, the more bitter the tengjue will turn out to be. Wugus cultivator Cheng Shu-hsing, meanwhile, is a master chef when it comes to this food. He says that in preparing wugus one cannot slice the plants with a knife, but rather should tear them by hand, in order to preserve nutitional value and moistness.

Currently Ms. Wu and the Aboriginal Culture Foundation are cooperating to produce an Ami edible-plant cookbook. In the future they will produce more books of traditional recipes representing all of the indigenous peoples, and even hold aboriginal traditional cuisine festivals at major hotels. After all, a good product still needs good marketing channels and preparation. For example, although Lin Te-tsu's wild plant restaurant has already achieved a measure of fame, Liu Chung-hsi has still suggested that Lin improve the restaurant in terms of decor and utensils. Liu says, metaphorically, that a traditional aboriginal dance could still be brightened up by having the dancers put on a little make-up.

Learning from the ancestors

Each dish of "wild" vegetables sold in a restaurant is a combination of the traditional and the modern. The promotion of wild vegetables is aimed not only at the market, but also at reminding the younger generation of indigenous people not to forget this treasure of their collective identity. Wu explains: "There are some plants or vegetables we have eaten since we were small. But when we ask our parents what these plants are called, they not only don't know the Mandarin Chinese names, sometimes they don't even know what they are called in the Ami language. They only know that their elders told them that these plants were edible."

It has taken generations of trial and error to determine which plants can be safely consumed. Liu, noting that the Han Chinese have a legend that it was the deity Shen Nong who "tried the 100 herbs," says that the aborigines have instead relied on countless generations of ancestors, and not any particular individual. Sometimes the aborigines have learned from animals in nature. Hung Yi-chang points out that the Ami people believe that anything that a cow can eat is also safe for people. Thus the Ami are also called the "grass eaters." Wu adds with a smile: "Some people say the Ami will eat anything, including leaves, grass, and tree bark."

Many wild vegetables grow right around people's homes, and can be picked at leisure. In the backyard of the home of Hsu Chin-fu and Wang Chu-mei, in the Puyuma aboriginal community of Pinlang Village in Taitung County, besides deliberately cultivated taros, corn, and other mainstream crops, there are also many "wild" plants. Looking at this piece of land that appears overrun with unruly weeds and grasses, Hsu explains that these are all in fact edible plants.

This knowledge is deeply embedded in the minds of the older generation of indigenous people. But they have no writing, only oral tradition. Therefore it has become an urgent problem for scholars to get out into the field to record the wisdom of the aborigines. It is with this in mind that Liu Chung-hsi comes to the home of Hsu Chin-fu. Hurrying along with his tape recorder, he asks this Puyuma elder to say the names of these various wild plants in the Puyuma language, in order to make a record of these precious aboriginal cultural assets.

Eat what Heaven gives you

Wild plants grow naturally in accord with local topography and climate. The aboriginal people see what Heaven has bestowed on them and accept it. They do not attempt to accumulate a great deal, nor do they seek to squeeze more out of nature. Liu says, "The way that aboriginal people have traditionally used wildlife resources is not like the typical situation in agriculture in which one eradicates all life on the land and then plants a certain target crop."

The Ami people mostly live near the ocean or at low altitudes. Therefore, they not only have fish, kelp, and other seafoods to eat, they also have a great variety of wild plants to choose from. In comparison, the Atayal and Bunun peoples, who live at higher altitudes, traditionally got more of their food from hunting wild animals. "Therefore they are more susceptible to gout," chimes in Huang Ling-hua, an Atayal woman.

Wu Hsueh-yueh recalls that every new year holiday, her father would disappear deep into the mountains for two or three days. It turns out that tengjue grew deep in the mountains, and it was only at the new year that her father would specially prepare it. Different wild plants grow in different seasons, year in and year out without cease. Wu concludes, "If you couldn't eat something one year you just had it the next, and if you couldn't eat one kind you just ate another. Heaven is very fair."

Besides filling one's stomach, wild plant life has had countless other uses for the indigenous people. Hung Yi-chang says that modern people crave tengjue, because-in the terminology of Chinese medicine-it helps dispel the excess huoqi (heat) that modern people suffer from. But aboriginal people only occasionally eat it, and sometimes just squeeze the juice out, applying the drops to a painful tooth for the analgesic effect. Wu Hsueh-yueh remembers that yuetao (Alpinia) leaf was often used to wrap food, and the light fragrance added to the deliciousness of the food. It was also the best raw material for weaving. As for the heart of the yuetao, Wu laughs as she recalls: "When we were small, we ate this as medicine against intestinal parasites."

Liu Chung-hsi and his student Sabu Pung did a study of the use of plant resources among the Paiwan people of Taniao Village in Taitung County. They discovered that the Paiwan not only eat millet and taro as staple foods, and wild plants as supplementary foods, they also have many medicinal plants, as well as plants specially used for worship ceremonies or for making rope, cloth, or dyes.

The close relationship between indigenous people and plants is also confirmed in the names of places and people. Wu Hsueh-yueh says that some tribespeople are named after plants. Also, the name of one of the legendary places of origin of the Ami people (called "Matai'an" in Chinese phonetic transcription) is, in the Ami language, the name of a widely eaten bean.

Seeking sustainable development

In fact, the indigenous people have had no monopoly on the gathering of wild plants. It's just that most ethnic groups have, with the passage of time, returned this treasured knowledge to their ancestors. Liu says that Han Chinese people also ate wild plants. But most modern people instead consume great amounts of fish, meats, and fast food, and have long forgotten that there are many edible things in nature that are rich in nutrients. These green leafy vegetables can all provide vitamin C, iron, folic acid, and calcium.

With global industrial growth creating vast amounts of pollution and other problems, modern people are now turning back to learn something from the aboriginal peoples' use of natural assets and from their wisdom of co-existing with nature. At the "Earth Summit" held by the United Nations in 1992, a consensus was achieved on the goal of sustainable development. The Summit called for recognition of the "values, traditional knowledge, and resource management practices" of indigenous people, as well as support for indigenous cultures and interests, to "recognize, promote, and strengthen the role of indigenous people and their communities" in sustainable development.

But the problem remains how aboriginal people can preserve and maintain their traditional culture while at the same time achieving a certain level of prosperity. Huang Ling-hua points out that an increase in income could lead to a qualitative cultural change. For example, in recent years, the Harvest Festival, which was originally a matter for each village, has been turned into a huge collective event, even including a singing contest and athletic events. This marks a qualitative change from the original significance of celebrating the harvest, and serves as a vivid example of this pitfall. Huang emphasizes, "Culture is a living thing, and is not simply the preservation of superficial appearances."

Hung Yi-chang argues that "culturally based industries will only be meaningful if they do not destroy the primitive face of the culture itself." Liu Chung-hsi, who is also director of the Association for the Sustainable Development of Taitung County, hopes that the promotion of industries related to aboriginal culture continues, but also that the wisdom of the aboriginal people is maintained, and is put to use instructing others how to relate to the environment.

Perhaps as everyone is munching on their wild plants, if they can really taste with each dish some of the aboriginal culinary culture behind the food, then they will find themselves even more richly rewarded.

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The "lunchbox" of the Ami people.

"Mountain bitter melon"

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"Tire bitter melon"

Taking from nature what nature is willing to give, Darumak is a peaceful village nestled at the foot of the mountains.

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Vegetables with the flavor of the wild outdoors are a unique aboriginal treat that tourists never pass up.

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The overgrown, narrow mountain trail actually is a treasure trove of edible plants. These two indigenous Moms are happily picking some.

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"Eating in fives and tens. . . ." Many indigenous people are holding fast to their culinary traditions.

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The "wild" veggie known to aboriginal people as wugus (Asplenium nidus) needs shade when cultivated over large areas. The photo shows Huang Chun-hua picking organically grown wugus. In the hands of Han Chinese, many "wild" vegetables are being "domesticated" to become cash crops.

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(above) Keeping a beehive under the melon tent can increase pollination rates. This is one of the methods used in organic farming of mountain bitter melon. (below) Watched over by Heaven, wild plants flourish in the mountains.

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Hsu Chin-fu's backyard is a "wild plant" garden. Besides corn, taro, and sweet potatoes, there are many little-known edible plants. How many can you identify?

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You can see the wisdom of the aborigines in co-existing with nature everywhere you look. Cleaned betelnut leaves make excellent wrapping for food, and are very environmentally safe.

"Eating in fives and tens...." Many indigenous people are holding fast to their culinary traditions.

The "wild" veggie known to aboriginal people as wugus （Asplenium nidus） needs shade when cultivated over large areas. The photo shows Huang Chun-hua picking organically grown wugus. In the hands of Han Chinese, many "wild" vegetables are being "domesticated" to become cash crops.

above） Keeping a beehive under the melon tent can increase pollination rates. This is one of the methods used in organic farming of mountain bitter melon. （below） Watched over by Heaven, wild plants flourish in the mountains.

（below） Watched over by Heaven, wild plants flourish in the mountains.

Hsu Chin-fu's backyard is a "wild plant" garden. Besides corn, taro, and sweet potatoes, there are many little-known edible plants. How many can you identify?

You can see the wisdom of the aborigines in co-existing with nature ever ywhere you look. Cleaned betelnut leaves make excellent wrapping for food, and are very environmentally safe.