Taiwanese persimmon farmer Lo Chih-neng stands on a ladder in his sprawling orchard using pruning sheers to cut the golden-yellow fruit still hanging from branches after enduring a tough season.
Persimmons are popular in Taiwan where people travel hours to buy bags and boxes of the sweet dried fruit to take home to their families or give away to friends.
But changing weather and an aging population are posing a threat to the century-old industry, forcing some farmers to look at alternative ways to maximize returns — or get out altogether.
Photo: AFP
Lo’s harvest was down by more than a third last year, the hottest year on record, after some of his trees failed to bloom and two typhoons in October stripped many of their leaves and fruit.
“The yield has dropped by quite a lot, at least a third or more,” Lo, 65, said on his farm where persimmon trees carpet a valley in Taichung’s Dongshih District (東勢區).
“The losses have been severe, and it’s mostly due to the typhoons,” said Lo, who expects to lose NT$1 million (US$30,000) from his takings on this year’s crop.
The Central Weather Administration said Tuesday that last year was the hottest year since records began 127 years ago, echoing unprecedented temperature highs felt around the world.
CLIMATE HARDSHIP
The annual persimmon harvest declined for the second year in a row in 2023 to around 59,000 tonnes.
It is expected to be more than 13 percent lower last year, figures from the Agriculture and Food Agency show.
The land area used for growing the fruit has shrunk to 4,700 hectares from more than 5,300 hectares a decade ago, and the number of persimmon farmers has also fallen, Su Tang-chao, director of the agency’s fruit and flower division, said.
“In recent years, we have observed changes in production areas and fluctuations in yield and quality due to broader environmental changes, such as climate change and global warming,” Su said.
Fresh persimmons are harvested from September to December, with most of the fruit sent to Hsinchu County to be dried.
Nearly all of the fruit harvested every year is consumed in Taiwan.
Lo’s harvest is put into plastic crates, loaded into the back of a truck and taken to Weiweijia persimmon orchard (味衛佳柿餅觀光農場), where Lu Li-chien’s family has been growing and drying the fruit for more than a century.
Tourists flock to Lu’s farm to pose for photos among outdoor circular racks of fruit that shrivel and darken as they dry in the sun and wind — a traditional method used by the Hakka community.
Normally, fresh persimmons arrive at Weiweijia farm every day, but Lu said this year’s harvest has been “extremely low” and deliveries have been every two days. “Compared to previous years, we only have about 20 percent of the usual supply,” Lu, 68, said.
“When I ask the farmers about the cause, they said the trees are not blooming properly, the flowers aren’t opening up as they should.”
Lu blames “climate abnormalities,” with the production problems worsened by aging growers whose children have no interest in taking over the family orchard.
“We’ve never encountered such a situation,” he said of the poor harvest.
To maximize earnings, Lu’s workers collect persimmon peels and turn them into dye. There are also plans afoot to make skincare products.
Lo, who has a teenage daughter, said he hopes to pass his farm to his nephew in the next few years — if he is up to the challenge.
“I told him, ‘If you’re afraid of hardship, you won’t be able to do this’,” Lo said. “It gets really hot sometimes, and other times, it’s very cold.”
The US war on Iran has illuminated the deep interdependence of Asia on flows of oil and related items as raw materials that become the basis of modern human civilization. Australians and New Zealanders had a wake up call. The crisis also emphasizes how the Philippines is a swatch of islands linked by jet fuel. These revelations have deep implications for an invasion of Taiwan. Much of the commentary on the Taiwan scenario has looked at the disruptions to world trade, which will be in the trillions. However, the Iran war offers additional specific lessons for a Taiwan scenario. An insightful
The problem with Marx’s famous remark that history repeats itself, first as tragedy, the second time as farce, is that the first time is usually farce as well. This week Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chair Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) made a pilgrimage to the People’s Republic of China (PRC) “to confer, converse and otherwise hob-nob” with Chinese Communist Party (CCP) officials. The visit was an instant international media hit, with major media reporting almost entirely shorn of context. “Taiwan’s main opposition leader landed in China Tuesday for a rare visit aimed at cross-strait ‘peace’”, crowed Agence-France Presse (AFP) from Shanghai. Rare!
April 6 to April 13 Few expected a Japanese manga adaptation featuring four tall, long-haired heartthrobs and a plucky heroine to transform Taiwan’s television industry. But Meteor Garden (流星花園) took the nation by storm after premiering on April 12, 2001, single-handedly creating the “idol drama” (偶像劇) craze that captivated young viewers across Asia. The show was so successful that Japan produced its own remake in 2005, followed by South Korea, China and Thailand. Other channels quickly followed suit, with more than 50 such shows appearing over the following two years. Departing from the melodramatic
Sunflower movement superstar Lin Fei-fan (林飛帆) once quipped that the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) could nominate a watermelon to run for Tainan mayor and win. Conversely, the DPP could run a living saint for mayor in Taipei and still lose. In 2022, the DPP ran with the closest thing to a living saint they could find: former Minister of Health and Welfare Chen Shih-chung (陳時中). During the pandemic, his polling was astronomically high, with the approval of his performance reaching as high as 91 percent in one TVBS poll. He was such a phenomenon that people printed out pop-up cartoon