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Star Rises in Fight Against Bird Flu
Qin, the general manager of the star anise plantation, has for years hired local villagers to pluck ripe fruit from his trees in the spring and fall. They dry the fruit on the ground under a pounding sun, then sell it to merchants from all over the country -- the first link in a complex distribution chain.
No one here seems to know what happens to the fruit after it is taken away, nor do most people grasp why more traders than ever are appearing. Some are vaguely aware of the connection to bird flu: Qin says he read about Tamiflu and star anise in a local newspaper. Most say they have heard nothing to explain the bonanza.
![]() Star anise fruits, the source of the key ingredient in Tamiflu, hanging from a tree at a plantation in southern China. (Peter S. Goodman -- The Washington Post) |
But they like the math involved. This year, Qin figures to earn $12,500 -- roughly double last year's income. He has invested his winnings into a local power plant venture, seeking to capitalize on another Chinese boom, the surging demand for energy.
Still, many villagers complain that they have not shared in the spoils because most sold their harvest before the price spike. If Chinese farmers have learned anything from their history, it is that famine and chaos can arrive with little warning. Conditioned against speculation, most farmers here sell what they have as soon as they have it.
"The middlemen make all the money," groused Lu Jimo, 81, as he laid out for sale a few small, plastic bags filled with the dried, burnt-amber fruit.
Usually, stocks of star anise last until Chinese New Year, in late January or early February. This year, most of the harvest was sold and shipped out in early November. Traders have grown desperate.
"They offer a high price and push us to find some," said Lan Zizhong, 26, a local middleman. "I get calls every day -- 'We'll take however much you can get' -- and I have to tell them I can't find any."
Much of the stock lands in a crowded market in the nearby city of Yulin, where traders come from as far away as northern China. Plastic sacks of dried star anise sit piled to the rafters in a warren of brick warehouses. But on a recent afternoon, little was for sale, amplifying the tight supply.
"We're holding on to what we have left to wait for a higher price," said Chen Chao, one merchant. "Every day, the price climbs."
As he spoke, a crew of men piled sacks high atop a truck headed for Anhui province in central China. A wholesaler from Zhejiang, a coastal province south of Shanghai, trolled the narrow alleyway for stocks for sale. Another crew pulled sacks from a warehouse to ready a shipment for Xian, a city full of pharmaceutical companies.
In a written statement, Roche said it relies on Chinese star anise for about two-thirds of its needed shikimic acid. The company said it is expanding efforts to increase production of the compound through a fermentation process that does not require star anise.
That might eventually cool the market here, and perhaps restore some tranquility. But obscurity might be gone forever.
"Now, all the foreigners know about us," Qin said.
Staff writer Justin Gillis and special correspondent Eva Woo contributed to this report.



