In the rice fields of Paju...

In the rice fields of Paju
by Kurt Cordice

In autumn of last year, I made a discovery during one of my random explorations of the Paju area on my bike.  I discovered a new bike path that was being constructed, starting from just past Paju Premium Outlet mall, and going all the way to Geumneung and beyond.  The significance of this new bike path: a direct way to access the train line to Ilsan and Seoul, safely, by bicycle!  Needless to say, I have anticipated the completion of this path for some time.

It has become a weekly mission to check the bike path this spring.  Each week, I ride along a path that takes me on a magical journey.  Starting in the modern and tourist-friendly area of Gyeonggi English Village, Heyri Art Village and Paju Premium Outlet, a simple turn from the mainstreet takes me into the farm areas of Paju.  

The beauty of riding a bike is the nice compromise between speed and a sense of connection with one's surroundings.  I actually feel like I am experiencing what is around me, unlike being in a car, bus or train.  As I leave the modern construction and hustle of city people behind, I feel the change from city to country; from urban to rural; entities that exist so close to each other but still manage to maintain a significant separation.

This spring I have had the privilege of seeing the planting of rice for the first time.  It was strange at first.  I was riding by a group who were taking short sections of what looked like flats of dark cork.  The flats were about 3 or 4 cm thick, and about 50cm x 100cm (approximately).  I had guessed that they were infused with seeds, but I could not be sure.  The group were working together to separate the flats, and were laying them in rows in the shallow water of the field.  It was not easy work.  The group took the flats from a truck, but placed all the flats by hand.  In a place where most of the young people I see are urbanites in every way, this world of agriculture where people still worked together to grow food seemed almost foreign.  However, it was a welcomed change for me.  I gave a minimal nod as I rode by.  One of the older men of the group did the same. 

Two weeks later, any doubt regarding the purpose of the flats was satisfied.  As I rode by, I saw the same flats that I had seen before, but this time with small but very green plants growing from them.  As I passed another field, there was a group there picking up their flats from the water.  They pulled what looked like a tray from the bottom.. leaving just plants and soil still forming the same shape.  They tossed the tray into a truck, and replaced the rectangle of plants on the shore next to the water.  Some fields, it seemed, had already completed this process, and I could see long rows of seedlings in the water.  

As I rode along the farm road, a tractor was coming my way.  I pulled to the side to allow it to pass.  It turned out to be two tractors.  On the first, an older man drove by with a pre-teen boy behind him.  The older man nodded and waved with a bright smile.  The boy watched me curiously, turning his head to stare as the tractor passed (I am used to it!).  The second was a younger many with who I imagined was his wife behind him.  They both smiled brightly and nodded in thanks for my effort to make way for them.  

I rode on with my brain thinking about the farms, and that family.  Over the past 7 years I have seen the growth and construction in this area.  I continue to see areas which were once used to grow food disappear, to be replaced by receptacles for the urban crowd.   I thought of Canada; places where there were once fields are now parking lots.  I thought of my little island of Bequia, and how I watched land disappear there for years covered over by large and expensive houses of foreigners who bought land.  And, I thought of that magical moment, of a family who lived like so many more did in the past.  Chances are that the young boy who was riding behind his grandfather would not want to follow the family business, and would head to the city like so many of his peers.  Even if he wanted to follow his family tradition, would there be any land left for him to cultivate?

I have no cause to think the young boy should do any different.  I spend my days encouraging my students to follow their dreams, and doing my best to equip them to do so.  However, is there room for young people to dream of a life in agriculture as well? What will the future of the industry be?  It is a question not only for Korea, but for many countries who struggle to find balance in a world with an increasingly global focus.  

I finally reached the bike path.  Bridge still blocked with that now viscerally offensive green mesh.  Guess will try again next week!