Rice-growing champion Huang Kun-bin (黃崑濱), better known as “Uncle Kun-bin,” died on Feb. 20 at the age of 92.
I knew him, but he did not really know me. After watching the 2004 TV documentary about him, Let It Be (無米樂), I occasionally drove to Jingliao Village (菁寮) in Tainan’s Houbi District (後壁) to buy rice from him, and I would always benefit from our conversations.
The last time I saw Huang was in late September two years ago.
He still joked with me as I bought rice and took pictures with him, but as a professional physical therapist, I could tell that his physical strength was deteriorating, as he moved the bags of rice in his shop less vigorously.
When I went to buy rice from him again last year, I met his wife and later learned from the newspaper that he was ill and in bed.
In Let It Be, directors Yen Lan-chuan (顏蘭權) and Chuang Yi-tseng (莊益增) highlight the predicaments facing Taiwan’s agricultural industry by documenting the daily lives of four farmers in the village.
The problems they picture include the outflow of young people and the aging population, low prices of local agricultural products, and the inability to compete in price with foreign agricultural products after Taiwan had joined the WTO in 2002.
Despite the country’s large areas of farmland, the average income of farming households is relatively low, affecting young people’s willingness to return home after their education to work in agriculture. As a result, large areas of farmland lie uncultivated.
With his love for his profession, Huang continued farming as he aged, because no younger members of his family were willing to take over.
After he auctioned off his prize-winning rice for NT$1 million (US$35,328 at the current exchange rate), he used the money to set up the Let It Be Rice Promotion Association to help the local farming community.
He devoted his life to Taiwan’s agriculture, while the government has overemphasized the technology industry.
Take, for example, water shortages in the past few months: After weighing the pros and cons, the government decided to sacrifice the agricultural sector to save water for technology firms, which is a biased policy.
Land planning should be balanced, because the nation cannot rely completely on imports for its food supply.
Many young people prefer nontraditional food, such as bread and other foods made of wheat flour, which in the past caused a surplus of rice production.
After watching the documentary, I have tried to buy Taiwanese rice if available and eat more foods made from local rice, in the hope of helping improve the economic situation of the nation’s farmers.
Hopefully the government will implement a policy to encourage people to eat more Taiwanese rice.
After all, the nation’s rice is fresh and delicious, and our consumption would help develop the agricultural industry.
Most wheat flour is imported, and pasta dishes and bread often contain added sugar to enhance the taste. People who often eat wheat-based food might consume more calories and easily gain weight.
Huang is no longer with us, but his promotion of local farming will live on through his association, leading the public to protect the nation’s farmland.
Cho Chiung-yu is an associate professor at National Cheng Kung University’s Department of Physical Therapy.
Translated by Eddy Chang
In the event of a war with China, Taiwan has some surprisingly tough defenses that could make it as difficult to tackle as a porcupine: A shoreline dotted with swamps, rocks and concrete barriers; conscription for all adult men; highways and airports that are built to double as hardened combat facilities. This porcupine has a soft underbelly, though, and the war in Iran is exposing it: energy. About 39,000 ships dock at Taiwan’s ports each year, more than the 30,000 that transit the Strait of Hormuz. About one-fifth of their inbound tonnage is coal, oil, refined fuels and liquefied natural gas (LNG),
To counter the CCP’s escalating threats, Taiwan must build a national consensus and demonstrate the capability and the will to fight. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) often leans on a seductive mantra to soften its threats, such as “Chinese do not kill Chinese.” The slogan is designed to frame territorial conquest (annexation) as a domestic family matter. A look at the historical ledger reveals a different truth. For the CCP, being labeled “family” has never been a guarantee of safety; it has been the primary prerequisite for state-sanctioned slaughter. From the forced starvation of 150,000 civilians at the Siege of Changchun
The two major opposition parties, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), jointly announced on Tuesday last week that former TPP lawmaker Chang Chi-kai (張啟楷) would be their joint candidate for Chiayi mayor, following polling conducted earlier this month. It is the first case of blue-white (KMT-TPP) cooperation in selecting a joint candidate under an agreement signed by their chairpersons last month. KMT and TPP supporters have blamed their 2024 presidential election loss on failing to decide on a joint candidate, which ended in a dramatic breakdown with participants pointing fingers, calling polls unfair, sobbing and walking
In recent weeks, Taiwan has witnessed a surge of public anxiety over the possible introduction of Indian migrant workers. What began as a policy signal from the Ministry of Labor quickly escalated into a broader controversy. Petitions gathered thousands of signatures within days, political figures issued strong warnings, and social media became saturated with concerns about public safety and social stability. At first glance, this appears to be a straightforward policy question: Should Taiwan introduce Indian migrant workers or not? However, this framing is misleading. The current debate is not fundamentally about India. It is about Taiwan’s labor system, its
RSS