Are the Shanghai farmers who planted flowers with Bao Zong still farming today?
Foodthink’s Take
In 2023, driven by a similar curiosity, Qiu Tian, a final-year Chinese literature student, joined Foodthink’s Lianhe Plan Ecological Agriculture Internship Programme. He travelled to a farm in Shanghai not far from Chuansha, where he spent over half a year working alongside a group of local farmers with an average age of over 70. This article is a record of his observations of these elderly people who continue to work the land.
I. “Threshold” Elders Still Working the Land
Having grown up in the city, I knew nothing of the land, crops, livestock, or vegetables my roommate spoke so fondly of. The ancient poems he quoted—of cowherds riding yellow oxen with songs echoing through the woods—evoked nothing in me. I was, in every sense, a city dweller: physically idle and utterly ignorant of the ways of the earth. Driven by a curiosity about these things and the lives of the rural elderly, I joined the Foodthink Union Project as an ecological agriculture intern in March 2023. During my final year of university, I travelled to Letian Haiwan Farm in Fengxian, Shanghai, where I spent over half a year as “colleagues” with a group of elders who had reached the age of “shàng kǎn”.
While Fengxian District is administratively part of Shanghai, the relationship between the two is, in the eyes of the locals, far more nuanced. In the local dialect, “Fengxian” and “Shanghai” are treated as two distinct entities, rather than one being a subset of the other. If someone needs to travel to the city centre for business or a medical appointment, they will often say they are “going to Shanghai”.
The farm’s location is similarly peculiar: on one side lie the single-storey houses of traditional villages and vast stretches of paddy fields; on the other, separated by only a single wall, are tarmac roads, elevated railways, and modern housing estates. This juxtaposition often left me bewildered, unable to discern whether I was truly in the city or the countryside.
II. Both Labour and Socialising
During my eight months of immersing myself in this land, I gradually became their friend. I often joined their idle chatter in the fields and took opportunities to visit their homes and share their meals. They would tell me about the history of Haiwan Village: the merger of Xiban and Fenghai, the collective labour of the Great Commune era, and the village secretary’s slogan: “Xiban, Xiban—vast and arduous”. We also talked about the plays we heard and the songs we loved as children. One worker, the second of eight siblings, sang a few lines of “Sailing the Seas Depends on the Helmsman” for me, his voice whistling through his gaps in his teeth.
After talking with them more, I discovered that there are several main reasons why they continue to work at an advanced age:
2. Frequent arguments at home make staying inside unpleasant; it is better to come out and work.
3. They have friends at the farm, giving them companionship and someone to chat with while they work.
III. Endless Work, but a Finishable Shift
In August, I was often responsible for the job everyone agreed was the hardest—using a small rotavator to till the soil. This left my hands bright red and caused a continuous, subtle vibration that persisted even after I left the machine; in return, I could take a full rest after finishing a plot. There is a famous saying at the farm: “The work here is never done”. The veteran workers understand this truth deeply and expertly pace their labour. Of course, sweating profusely remained inevitable.
Modern concepts of time have similarly permeated the lives of farmers who are dependent on the whims of the weather. In addition to the essential straw hat, arm sleeves, and large water bottle, every worker keeps one thing by their side—a mobile phone or watch that announces the hour loudly, reminding them how long they have been working. Much like the estimated delivery times shown for online shopping, we have all become accustomed to life being pre-empted by time, allowing future events to be realised in our imagination ahead of time.
Behind these circumstances lies the “performative nature” that this peri-urban farm emphasises. While productivity is liberated by machinery, labour, on the one hand, becomes a vital part of our lives as an exchange of time, energy, and money. On the other hand, as physical sensations such as hunger diminish, the motivation that sustains labour is constantly challenged.
In theory, the elders working at the farm only need to complete a performance of eight clocked hours and ensure the labour results—the vegetables—meet the consumer’s standards. Of course, this is not easy; it simply means the farmers do not need to invest as much labour into the land as they would for vegetables grown for their own families.
IV. Is a Future Only Found Far From the Land?
Old Ni was the eldest among all the workers, and the one who sang to me. At 75, he had spent three years with the farm and planned to officially retire at the end of this year, finally “crossing the threshold”.
Before I left, we joked that this would be the last time we met in this lifetime. I asked him somewhat presumptuously, “Are you afraid of death?” He smiled and replied, “Death is death; returning to the earth is where one finds peace.” From a squad leader in the Fenghai production brigade to a greenery worker on Haiwan Road, and finally to the Letian Haiwan Farm, Master Ni never once left the land of Haiwan.
To date, two recruitment cycles have been completed, supporting over 40 partners in entering more than 10 ecological farms across the country for internships ranging from two months to one year. The second cohort of interns will “graduate” at the end of 2023, and open recruitment for the third cohort will take place in February 2024! We welcome your continued interest in Foodthink’s “Ecological Agriculture Intern” programme!
Images: Qiu Tian, Foodthink
Editor: Tianle