Korea, just liberated from Japan in 1945, now had to face another hardship, the Korean War (1950-1953). Industrial infrastructure, only a bit of it still left, was all damaged, and the people were undergoing extreme poverty. In particular, rural Korea faced the utmost pain. The repetition of drought and flood continued the famine, and there was never enough food to feed the growing population. Moreover, youth had no jobs in rural towns and had to live their lives as daily employees or as urban poor in the cities.

Basic human needs, to eat and to live, and a further desire to live a better life, were felt stronger among the Korean people than among anybody else in the world. The West, represented by the U.S. after Korea's independence and the war, was a byword for wealth, envied by Koreans. In those days, the inland region of Chungcheongbuk-do Province, the geographically smallest province in South Korea, and particularly the people of Nunbisan village, set in the tiny Sosu-myeon Township of Goesan County, were no exception to the Korean realities of those times.

In 1968, the U.S. Roman Catholic missionary group Maryknoll organized pilot farms in Goesan and founded a livestock association in Goesan. In 1974, beef cattle, loans and contracted calf productions were provided for the local farmers, and then a farmer-training institution was built to train farmers about livestock breeding and cooperative management. Then, it began organic farming and chicken farming, specifically for fertile egg production. In the 800,000 square meters of fields set underneath the small, neighborhood hillock of Nunbisan Mountain, not only forests and farming fields, but chicken farms, a cookie factory and mushroom farms, too, are all now located. The chicken farm here is surely different from others. Unlike factory chicken farms with row upon row of battery cages, the chicken cages here are well-managed with good ventilation and are kept at a perfect temperature and level of humidity, making it rather pleasant for the chickens. Straw on the ground of the cages naturally ferments with the secretions, lessening the stink. Hens in the spacious cages, with cocks together, produce fertile eggs. These eggs, whose yolks are clear, yellow and tangy, are fresh and tasty. About 10,000 chickens here produce 8,000 to 9,000 eggs a day. The eggs produced this way are all sold to organic markets. Nunbisan-produced biscuits and cookies are also sold straight to the organic markets. Applicants line up to learn farming techniques here at Nunbisan, but only a few of them, after serious deliberation, are allowed to begin training here. Life here is vigorous and energetic. Over the past half century, underdeveloped rural Korea, struggling with poverty, has been transformed into prosperity and efficiency.

At the very center of these years as experienced by the Nunbisan farming community stands Cho Hi-bu. With degrees from prestigious schools like Kyungnam High School in Busan and Seoul National University in law, he settled here in a rural town after numerous deliberations and many choices made in his younger days. This is his 40th year since moving here in his 20s. The conversation with Cho in Nunbisan covered the turbulent transformations of the past and the future of rural Korea. A small rural town, in a way, seems like evidence that there was poverty in the past, efforts were made for a better life, achievements were accomplished, and struggles for a better life arose from that.





- You spoke at the Won Buddhism seminar marking its 100th year on the subject of "a great shift of life" last April. What kind of shift is that in the 21st century?

As I live here, I feel that all sorts of lives and organisms are facing the difficulties of existence due to climate change, and that's not even mentioning this summer. It's very hot; no rain; the monsoon is almost disappearing. This is a huge threat, not only to agriculture but to all of life and organism, and a big shift is required, I believe. Even the Club of Rome report said that in 1970 not only humans but all other organisms will face a crisis if we continue our current way of life. Beyond matters of discussion and theories, I think we're at a point that we should completely change our lifestyle. Maybe it might be already too late, but still, we should try until we can do something.

- The Hansalim Declaration in 1989 says that, "Today's civilization, that humanity has achieved through blood and sweat, under freedom, equality and progress, has brought about humanity's physical prosperity, but suppressed and isolated humans as well, and further damages and harms the Earth's ecology that is the foundation of humanity." What is earned and what is to be done for the future of the Hansalim movement and the cooperative?

It was 1986 that the Hansalim cooperative association was launched, and this year it marks its 30th anniversary. The very beginning of the association and movement was building solidarity with urban consumers, which would give a foundation to save Korea's agriculture that was facing fewer and fewer farmers. In return, the urban consumers would be able to get safe, healthy agricultural products.

So we researched similar cases in Japan. We distributed Goesan-produced local agricultural products to Hansalim. We adopted the Yamagishi chicken farming method that didn't work well in other farming communities in Korea. This is all part of the 30 years of history at Hansalim.

The achievement is that we produced and distributed more safe, chemical-free agricultural products. We also opened a way for the non-farming public to participate in agriculture. The urban branches of Hansalim is a cooperative association, which means that we could say we pioneered consumer cooperatives in Korea.

However, members' actual participation in the cooperative is relatively low. Members of the cooperative can participate by themselves, or can fund the cooperative and participate in decision making. Most current members, though, are just consumers and I think this should be a task for Hansalim. Difficult economic situations also affect Hansalim. In short, it's time for a new change.









- How did the Nunbisan community begin?

It was led by Father Clyde Davis from the U.S. Roman Catholic missionary group Maryknoll. When Father Davis met poor, hungry farmers, he decided to breed beef cattle here. Once he had the cows, now young farmers had to learn how to breed them. The most systematic way for them to do so was to organize a cooperative in the village so that cows and farming money could be funded by the cooperative. The credit cooperative gave loans at low rates for farming, which also helped farmers who suffered from usury.

Those days, cows acted as farming help, to carry and move things. In other words, there was no concept of eating beef in Korea in those days. So the father brought in black and white brindled cows from the U.S. I think this would have been recorded as part of the history of Korean livestock farming. Then mixed breeds with the U.S. breeds, and Korean breeds were also provided. To introduce the beef from these breeds, some tastings were organized in front of the Hotel President near Seoul City Hall. Mind you, the tastings didn't directly lead to more beef consumption at that time.

This is not the only thing that Roman Catholic missionaries from the West introduced to Korean livestock farming. The Imsil farm run by Father Ji Jeong-hwan and the St. Isidore Farm on Jejudo Island are all much bigger than this farm. What Father Davis wanted was to train farmers, rather than to develop a big farm. Basically what he did was to demonstrate to us how to farm cattle.

Then there was 1965 Korea-Japan agreement. Korea began to rapidly industrialize. Young people left the rural towns for factory jobs in the city. Machines replaced human labor. Korean cows were now bred for beef. Then cow farming organizations turned into meat processing factories. Fifty years of compressed growth changed a lot.









- Though inspired by the Yamagishi community and chicken farming, the way in which this farming community is managed is different from the Japanese community.

There are different types of farming communities. A Yamagishi farm is rather like a kibbutz. This type of community doesn't allow any private property at all. Production, consumption, none of that allows for anything private. There's nothing private. Everything there is shared by everyone. Then there's this Israeli Moshav community, whose members produce together and consume individually. By this categorization, the Yamagishi community is closer to a kibbutz.

Yamagishi Miyozo, in terms of Confucianism, was a Yangmingist. He believed one should fulfill what he or she wants. He believed behavior is more important than knowledge. He stressed community movements and agriculture. He was a great philosopher. As part of our community development, we studied his quotations, but eventually thought his ideas weren't very adaptive to Korean communities, so we just decided to develop a community of our own.

Throughout the world, community life is disappearing, except for a few monasteries or farming communities like the Amish. There are very few, primitive communities left. In general, communities have nearly disappeared. What is human? What is life? Considering the history of evolution, a lot of study is required. Any nation-led revolution failed. I think these failures are all because they weren't very adaptive to human nature.

The Yamagishi community also didn't work in Japan. The Japanese community didn't admit any personal decisions or choice, and shared literally everything. A member who had joined the community but later found out that the community was not for them, was no longer admitted or respected. This is why the community is often criticized as a religious cult.

Living together and sharing, while respecting private property and personal choices, is really a difficult matter. What we should do is, I would say, listen to the people who reflected much more about life than we did, whether it's Buddha or Jesus, living fiercely but not obsessing on life. Knowing oneself objectively by separating oneself from one's ego, and, finally, living one's life by one's own chosen methods. When one owns their own confidence, one no longer cares about what others think.

This is part one of a two-part series. Part two will be published on Monday.

By Wi Tack-whan, Chang Iou-chung
Korea.net Staff Writers
Photos: Wi Tack-whan, Canaan Farmers' School
whan23@korea.kr