Stand News Interview with Joey Leung — Actor turned Farmer in the Pandemic (Excerpt)

Stand News Interview with Joey Leung — Actor turned Farmer in the Pandemic (Excerpt)

Translated by Guardians of Hong Kong


Photography by Fred Cheung


“Hong Kongers should eat Hong Kong  grown vegetables” Joey Leung is a theatrical actor and the leading man of the Windmill Grass Theatre Group. And now, he is half a farmer. 


An Alternative Lifestyle


Because of the pandemic, the theatre industry almost stopped functioning. The Windmill Grass Theatre originally planned to perform No News is True News 2 in March. It is now being postponed to August. The extra time Leung has is now diverted to his long-forgotten dream — farming. He helps out on Sun Hing Farm and teaches people how to make soba noodles. The class charges more than $1,000 but he profits nothing from the fees. All the fees are used to support the operation of the farm. His gains come from elsewhere. 


When he first started working on the fields, he did not know how to properly apply his power on the tools and broke three hoes. Slowly, he learned the proper technique when using farming tools on the field. He looked at the seeds he sowed and wondered whether he should protect them or let the birds eat them. After all, the field was the birds' home originally. His mode of thinking is changing. His mode of living is changing, too. 


“I come to the fields to find a way of living.” In there, he has an “experimental field”. It is full of carrots and herbs. After tasting the fresh vegetables from the field, his taste buds are refreshed - it turns out the taste of vegetables from the market is somewhat compromised. 


When talking about the challenges in farming, he feels guilty because he is not a “productive farmer”. This alternative way of living may be like treasure to him but it is the only way of living for many others. “A group of hardworking, kind people giving a lot silently but they don’t get what they deserve in return.”


This mixture of guilt, joy and surprise transforms into motivation that pushes him to promote the local farming industry. “I hope all Hong Kongers have the chance to taste local crops because they are really tasty.”



Realising “he knew nothing” his first time on the fields 


This was not his first time planting, but it was his first time farming. The big difference between the two is like swimming and simply treading water. 


After being a rooftop gardener for more than 10 years, Leung had confidence in his planting skills. He grew banana and rice in the past. His banana tree grew up in a bin filled with compost. He also harvested 80 passion fruits in one year. But he only realised his understanding of farming was so superficial once he got onto the fields.


“I discovered that I knew nothing (about farming). I didn’t how to use tools and which tools to use. I used to think I was knowledgeable enough from my past experience, I have to learn everything all over again here.” 


Soil and land that are farmed on are different


The first thing he did on the field was harvesting. But he found the most satisfying part of farming was reclaiming abandoned fields and turning them into farmland. Walking onto fields that were abandoned for more than 10 years, you can see weeds as tall as an average person. He showed us his scars from weeding. Turning the soil, he could see boxes that carried vegetables in the past and rusty sickles. This linkage between him and people in the past touched Leung’s heart. 


“People used to farm here but I cannot see any trace. Making this land arable again and farming on it is very satisfying and touching.”




After opening up the abandoned fields, he began organizing his experimental field: turning the soil, making compost, building a scaffold and watering his crops. He felt like he has experienced a short cycle of life and death in nature. 


To Leung, not spending some time to experience this endless cycle of life is not real farming. “If you only come once a week, you better not come. If you come only once a week, you only do the harvesting and everything else is done by others … it’s shameful.”


This is also why Leung only found the time to go to the fields after the outbreak of the pandemic. The foundation of farming is the interaction between land and human. 


Hong Kongers eating locally grown crops because they’re fresh and because we are Hong Kongers


A few old farmers told Leung, “You guys are used to eating mainland vegetables. You would not know the original taste of these vegetables.”


Leung could understand that the taste is different: “Because I have grown crops before myself. For example, my tomatoes did not taste like those from the markets because those you buy from the market are ripened artificially...picked when they were still green and shipped after artificial ripening. But if you have eaten a naturally ripened tomato, you would know the taste is different.”


Leung then started to reflect upon where food comes from. Hong Kongers love eating and are picky eaters. But they are not usually concerned about the source of their food. 


Eating what is in season is a foreign concept to most Hong Kong people. To city dwellers, most ingredients can be found year-round because of importation. However, this is actually only one choice. People can the follow the life cycle of crops locally and eat only the crops that are in season, that are at the peak of their freshness. 


When speaking of freshness, most people in Hong Kong do not relate that to local vegetables at the first instance. They are more likely to think of Japanese melons or Kyoho grapes they come across while travelling in Japan. 


From Leung’s observation, the localist culture is very strong in other cities or countries. “Japanese must eat Japanese rice and vegetables. Koreans use their own cabbage to make kimchi.” But Hong Kongers do not have such a concept and instead consume mostly imported foods. 


“No wonder we do not have a strong localist culture. We are fed with foods from different countries everyday.” Local vegetables only contribute to around 2% of all local consumption. Overall, only about 10% of food consumed is sourced locally. 


Specialty food is not only a commercial product. It also reflects the character of the land. It reflects the character of the people living on it. The bond between the people and the land is unique in every place. Supporting Hong Kong agriculture or even cultivating unique Hong Kong produce so that we have better ingredients and also to preserve and prolong this special experience. 


“Eating only what is in season” is the only way out


Leung proclaimed on Facebook in early February: “I have decided the theme this year is to promote local agriculture! I will teach you how to find good vegetables because I have eaten lots of phenomenal food from our fields.”


Although Hong Kong has no specialty food, it touches his heart to have local agricultural products. He introduced his favourites like personal treasures, praising the tree-ripened tomatoes in the winter, the freshly ground rice and the strawberries that were probably picked at their peak.


“Wow, they were so so good. I let my French dessert teacher taste the naturally ripened strawberries from Hong Kong and he was shocked. In his perception, Hong Kong is not cold enough and is not suitable for growing strawberries. But you can still grow them organically. This is possible because of the hard work, great knowledge and wisdom of the farmers.”


Therefore, to Leung, “self-sufficiency” is not a magnificent wish, but rather a kind of awakening, a change in mindset and a kind of love towards the land of Hong Kong. 


“If we want to protect the food we grow or our land, we have to begin with our eating and drinking habits. We need to start to think about “eating seasonal food only”. We need to get used to eating food seasonally. Only this way will Hong Kong agriculture have a chance and hope.”


Whether others are awakened yet, he could not tell but he said with certainty, “I am awakened.”



Agriculture as a form of Protest


Hong Kong agriculture faces many problems such as retailing and land. But from my conversation with Leung, I can feel more often it is a problem with attitude. Why is it so difficult to ask Hong Kongers to eat only seasonal food and local vegetables?


“Because they don’t know. It’s not that they don’t want to,” Leung laughed. “Even before we were conceived, people were already eating choy sum (Chinese leafy greens) in the summer!” Even though he has introduced local vegetables to his friends and they like it, eating local vegetables is still only a one-off thing. There is still a long way to go in transforming occasional support into a long term habit.


At the beginning of the Wuhan pandemic, there was a wave of panic buying of vegetables. The public anticipated the supply of imported vegetables from mainland would be unstable due to the pandemic and started panic-buying vegetables. The price of mainland vegetables shot up and some people turned to local vegetables which boosted the sales of local farms. However, after a while, everything was back to normal. 


“This is another habit of Hong Kongers - to be very very passionate about something but only for a short while. They think they have done their part supporting it once. The one-time satisfaction that they did it. Then, they went back to mainland vegetables. I don’t think they intentionally went back to buying mainland vegetables, but they did not think of the importance. This habit needs to be cultivated. I think sooner or later people will know and remember Hong Kong vegetables are very tasty.”


Leung’s hope does not come from the land alone. “The last 8 months taught me that nothing is impossible. If you don’t do it, then it is not possible. But if you do it, you stand a chance. It is actually quite romantic—the energy the last 8 months gave me is just like the novel The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha. The idea seems very naive, that as long as it is right, and if you can persevere, you will change something.”


In the last year, Hong Kongers showed the world their determination to protect their home. Now the movement has quieted down, Leung came to the fields hoping to protect the land. Is this a continuum of this war of defence? Is this a new frontline?


“I cannot represent all farmers when I say this. But to me, it is.”


At the same time, he was quick to disagree with the saying that the movement has quieted down. “Because I don’t think it has quieted down. I haven’t. No one around me has. Only the mode has changed. And I think this change in mode even strengthens the movement or makes it more mature. Think about it—those years from the Umbrella Movement onwards until last June...you thought when the Umbrella Movement ended, everything died down. But actually it didn’t. It has been fermenting, transforming and growing. And it exploded last June and transformed and transformed again. I think it’s just getting into another stage.”


Leung wants to use his own way to respond to this society. “The protection of our food source is related to our bonding with this land. You know a bit more about your own land, the homegrown food, plant; animals and you will find your feeling towards the land change. To me, these are very real energy...then with this new energy, I can carry on.”



The Answer to Living


After the interview, Leung brought us to see his experimental field. He randomly picked a few small carrots and said, “This will be my dinner.” We went back to the tent and he cut the buckwheat dough he made earlier into noodles and put them into the wok. The day of a farmer ends with the sunsets. The corn leaf that is shimmering in the sunlight is still the same height. Life is flowing in places that cannot be seen. 


This is the life Leung has found. 


“Hong Kongers need to live. We have not lived for a long time. Everyday we go to work and get off work, then when we consume or rest, we do so furiously. This is a payback type of consumption and rest. For example, they travel and end up feeling more tired afterwards because they have to consume all they want and fully pack the schedule— to me, that is not living.”


But now, Leung has finally found a balance. The life of an actor and a farmer complementing and completing each other. “The purpose of art is to ask questions. But everyone has to find your own answer in life.”


Source: The Stand News

Photography: Fred Cheung


https://www.thestandnews.com/personal/專訪-疫情下演員變農夫-梁祖堯-香港人要食返香港菜/



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