“See, that’s just it,” he answers. “Every-one thinks farmers can just switch crops. But I have a lot of money invested in my ginseng shades, my ginseng dryers, my seeders and harvesters. This is what people don’t realize: I can’t just decide to start growing, say, po-tatoes tomorrow. A potato harvester won’t work with ginseng.”
He starts talking about his recent business trips to China. As head of the Ontario Ginseng Growers Association, he goes about twice a year, mostly to help resolve issues with the marketing and labelling of Ontario ginseng in Asia. These visits, he says, are critical. Until recently, Ontario ginseng was labelled in China with a seal saying it had been grown in Wisconsin, an inaccuracy the Hong Kong brokers perpetuated so as not to confuse buyers. Next on Bradley’s list is to encourage the Chinese to crack down on counterfeit Ontario ginseng, a task he avows will not be easy.
When Bradley pauses next, I realize that, apart from mentioning his heavy investment in equipment, he has not answered my question. I decide to try a different tack: “If the price of ginseng keeps dropping, will it still be grown here in fifty years? Or will it go the way of tobacco?”
This time, his definitiveness surprises me. He looks uncommonly serious, and he actually points to the ground as he speaks.
“Oh, no,” he says. “We’ll still be here.”
