Rice is a part of every meal in Korea. Living in the big city we don’t see it in any other form than how it arrives on our table or in our grocery stores. When we drive outside the city, the landscape is full of waterlogged rectangles- rice paddies. This past weekend we were invited by friends to gain a cultural experience by helping her family plant rice at their farm. We went with
several other people from our church to help out. The men spent the day much like these workers- hauling flats of rice seedlings out of the shallow pond and then putting the flats along the side of other ponds to prepare them for the planting machine. It was fascinating to see the fields stretched out and so many older Korean men and women working the fields. Our host farms not only his own fields, but also helps out with the fields of a few of his elderly neighbors. The town is aging and not many younger people are coming in. I wonder what is going to happen to all of these fields. Will the next generation take over?