# 貓囒山腳下那塊碑，立給一個種茶的日本人

- URL: https://justfly.idv.tw/%e8%b2%93%e5%9b%92%e5%b1%b1%e8%85%b3%e4%b8%8b%e9%82%a3%e5%a1%8a%e7%a2%91%ef%bc%8c%e7%ab%8b%e7%b5%a6%e4%b8%80%e5%80%8b%e7%a8%ae%e8%8c%b6%e7%9a%84%e6%97%a5%e6%9c%ac%e4%ba%ba/
- 日期: 2026-10-07
- 分類: 我知故我在
- 標籤: 愛文芒果, 紅玉紅茶, 華山1914

![貓囒山腳下那塊碑，立給一個種茶的日本人]
日月潭貓囒山山腳下有一座石碑，立給一個叫新井耕吉郎的日本人。多數遊客喝著紅玉紅茶拍照，沒人問過這碑是誰的。答案寫在茶湯裡：1926年，群馬縣出身的新井來到魚池紅茶試驗所，引進印度阿薩姆茶苗，對抗瘧疾與水土，硬是把一種外來作物種成了現在被稱為台灣紅茶代表的品種。1936年他又在魚池設立中央研究院魚池紅茶試驗所，建起工業化的製茶工廠，魚池茶園面積一度衝到史上最高的3,000公頃。戰後他沒有跟著其他日本人離開，自願留下教台灣人製茶，直到1946年過世。台灣茶人後來稱他「台灣紅茶之父」。

這種事不是孤例。順著台灣的地圖找下去,類似的碑、類似的技術遺骨,散落在至少三個地方。

##### 芒果、清酒廠,還有那些沒被寫進課本的名字
台南玉井的愛文芒果是另一個版本。台灣原生土芒果果小、纖維粗,不是現在夏天讓人瘋狂的那種紅潤香甜。1954年,玉井農民鄭罕池引進美國愛文幼苗試種,一開始就撞上寒流重創。當時留在台灣的前總督府農業試驗所日籍專家與農發會技師,跟著鄭罕池一起蹲在果園裡,教套袋防蟲、教枝條矮化,一路熬到1962年才等到第一批豐收。現在玉井芒果每年大量回銷日本——種子繞了一圈回到原產地隔壁。
台北華山1914文創園區的紅磚,來歷更直白。1914年,日本實業家安部幸之助在這裡蓋了一座清酒廠,名叫「芳醸社」。戰後廠房轉手公賣局,變成台北第一酒廠,酒廠關了之後一度荒廢。1997年藝文界出面搶救這片廢墟,才沒被拆掉,後來演變成現在假日擠滿咖啡館和展覽的園區。磚還是那批磚,只是釀的東西從清酒換成了展覽跟拿鐵。

##### 人走了,樹還在結果
三個故事擺在一起看,會看出一個共同的結構:技術的人離開了,或死在這裡,但他經手的作物、建築、工法留下來,繼續產出東西。新井耕吉郎沒看到紅玉紅茶後來變成觀光招牌,安部幸之助大概也沒想過自己的酒廠會變成文青假日去處。這不是誰刻意規劃的傳承,比較像是——種下去的東西,自己找到了活下去的方式。
這批名字通常不在課本裡。[日治時期](https://zh.wikipedia.org/wiki/台灣日治時期)的敘事多半停在鐵路、糖廠、總督府這些大結構上,很少細到某個農業技師在魚池邊蹲了十年對付瘧疾。但正是這些細節,撐起了現在被當作「台灣原生」的味覺記憶——紅玉紅茶、愛文芒果,甚至華山的紅磚牆,背後都站著一個具體的、有名字的人。
這碑現在立在貓囒山腳下,常年開放,10月到隔年2月是賞茶園的季節。石碑不大,字也褪色了,但旁邊種的茶每年都在產。
— 曾柏宇

### The Gravestone at the Foot of a Taiwanese Tea Mountain

At the foot of Maolan Mountain by Sun Moon Lake stands a small stone memorial for a man named Arai Kokichiro. Tourists sip Ruby Black Tea and take photos nearby. Few ask who the stone belongs to. The answer is in the cup: in 1926, Arai, born in Gunma Prefecture, arrived at the Yuchi Black Tea Research and Extension Station and brought in Assam tea seedlings from India, fighting malaria and the local climate until the imported crop became what’s now treated as Taiwan’s signature tea. In 1936 he set up a larger research station at Yuchi and built an industrial-scale tea factory; the plantation area there eventually reached a historic peak of 3,000 hectares. After the war, unlike most Japanese residents, he stayed, voluntarily, to pass on tea-making skills until he died in 1946. Taiwanese tea growers later called him the “father of Taiwanese black tea.”
This isn’t an isolated case. Trace the map further and similar fragments of technical inheritance turn up in at least two other places.

##### Mangoes, a sake brewery, and the names missing from textbooks
Tainan’s Yujing Irwin mango tells a parallel story. Taiwan’s native mangoes used to be small and fibrous, nothing like the sweet, blushing fruit that defines summer now. In 1954, local farmer Zheng Han-chi introduced American Irwin seedlings, only to watch an early cold snap wipe out much of the crop. Japanese agricultural specialists who had stayed on from the former Government-General’s agricultural research institute, working alongside agricultural development technicians, got into the orchards with him, teaching fruit-bagging against pests and branch-dwarfing techniques. The first real harvest came in 1962. Yujing mangoes now get exported back to Japan in large volumes every year — the seedling’s descendants returning next door to where it started.
The red bricks of Taipei’s Huashan 1914 Creative Park have a blunter origin. In 1914, Japanese businessman Abe Kōnosuke built a sake brewery there called Houjou-sha. After the war it became a state tobacco-and-wine factory, then sat abandoned once production stopped. In 1997 the arts community campaigned to save the derelict site from demolition, and it eventually turned into the weekend destination it is today, full of cafés and exhibitions. The bricks are the same bricks. Only the product changed, from sake to gallery shows.

##### The people left. The trees kept fruiting
Line the three stories up and a pattern appears: the technician left, or died here, but what he built — a crop, a building, a method — kept producing. Arai never saw Ruby Black Tea become a tourist staple. Abe Kōnosuke almost certainly never imagined his brewery turned into a weekend café crawl. No one planned this as inheritance. It behaves more like something planted that found its own way to keep growing.
These names rarely make it into textbooks. Accounts of the [Japanese colonial period](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Taiwan_under_Japanese_rule) usually stay at the level of railways, sugar refineries, and the colonial government, rarely zooming in on a technician who spent a decade at a lakeside fighting malaria. But those details are what hold up what now passes for native Taiwanese flavor — the black tea, the mango, even the brick wall at Huashan. Each one has a specific, named person standing behind it.
The memorial still stands at the foot of Maolan Mountain, open year-round, best visited between October and February when the tea gardens are at their most photogenic. The stone is small and the lettering has faded. The tea planted next to it is still harvested every year.
— 曾柏宇