The Broad Abroad

In short, it was mostly great.  You know that saying about guests and fish starting to stink after 3 days?  Sometimes it applies from the perspective of the guest as well!  Unfamiliar styles of hospitality can be overwhelming, though at the end of 6 days, I had actually begun to adjust better.

We were staying at the family home of my husband’s friend “Sam” and his sister “Joyce”.  It’s in a village about a half an hour outside of Ji’an in Jiangxi province.

Food

Delicious, but meaty.  We were on a farm, after all.  Eating meat is just what happens.  They did, however, have tofu cooked at every meal and didn’t use any soy sauce.  I had no gluten issues while I was there, and always got my fill.

Despite this, at least twice I was asked if I was feeling ok because I wasn’t eating much, and once concluded that I must not like the food because I wasn’t eating much.  It was one of the first things to irritate me, because I was eating as much as everyone else!

The Celebrations

Part ritual, part craziness, part family obligations — sorta like Christmas.  On the eve of the eve of the Year of the Tiger, we joined an excursion to town (the source of my last post) so people could buy gifts, fireworks, and decorations.  On the actual eve, the rituals began. During the day, a chicken was killed to the ear-blasting sound of a string of firecrackers.  Once plucked, it was the first item placed on a tray that was later to contain a fish, a bowl of rice, and a pigs ear.  I asked “not an eggplant?” as an attempt at some vegetarian humor, but when the hubs translated this to Sam’s mother, she replied (humorlessly) “That’s not our custom.”  Prior to preparing an early dinner, she set off more firecrackers at the front door of the house, bowed with the tray at the door, the family altar, and the backdoor.  She moved quickly, followed by Sam with a pot of tea which was poured on the ground in 3 splashes at each location.

What struck me most about this particular ritual (which was repeated the next day with Joyce pouring the tea) was that it was done with seemingly no solemnity.  Perhaps I’m wrong, but it was just so rushed and there was no “Ok everyone, turn off the tv and be quiet!  I’m going to do the bowing now!”  It was just done, and if we hadn’t been applying rice glue to paper decorations in the same room we wouldn’t have known.

We set off lots of fireworks that night after a nap and the neighbors did the same.

The village we stayed in was small, but very close to other villages, so it was almost like everyone was putting on fireworks shows for everyone else.  The next morning started with firecrackers below our window at about 6am, but I was already up.  Other households in the village had begun setting them off at about 5.  Breakfast was vegetarian “out of respect to Buddhism”, which was awesome.  There was a point to each of the dishes served, but I don’t remember what it was.

Finally, the visits.  There is an order to who does the visiting first, so everyone can be sure that the others are home.  On the first day of the new year, it’s village visits.  We joined in the procession that went from house to house giving wishes for a happy new year and usually receiving candy or fruit.  I offered some fruit I had received to the oldest man in the village when we visited him, since his story had touched me the day before.  Apparently his wife had died some years back, and he only has daughters (who married and live in other villages) who never visit.  He has trouble walking, so he can’t farm and just buys things from the other villagers.  I guess I had expected more charity or some indication that people brought him a cooked dinner or invited him over now and then.

Day two is for visiting the paternal line.  We joined this group as well, and piled in the van to go to a village about 20 minutes or so away.  There were two stops.  At each one, we were briefly greeted by the residents, who then disappeared for at least an hour or two to prepare a ridiculous meal for us.  This meant sitting around the fire in a cold room, unable to participate much in the conversation.  If I had wanted to gamble, I’m sure it would have been more entertaining.  As it was, I cold, my ass hurt from sitting on low wooden stools around the fire for 4 days, and I was bored.

At one meal, I reached for a chunk of potato and happily popped it in my mouth only to find that, while delicious, it was not a potato.

Just before dusk, everyone else seemed to be getting bored as well, as our ride had not yet returned from the city.  It was decided that we would walk home.  Though we were picked up about 20 minutes into the walk, we got to pass some buildings from the days when that village was a commune.  The paint was still mostly visible, so we were able to tell that one building had been the commune supply depot, and another (now a school) had been the canteen.  I love the little doses of history that pop up here and there.

The next day (I think) we headed to the city for bus tickets home.  No trains this time, which was both good and bad.  The train is cheaper, but it takes longer.  The sleeping compartments are also less packed than on a sleeper bus.  No matter what, it was nice to be on our way back to Kunming!