"Grandpa Mao, I don't miss you at all"

By Maple, guest blogger

[in translation]

Only a week ago I had thought that Shanghai, the so called cosmopolitan city, wouldn't be so off the beam as Chongqing. 

Last week I went to the Shanghai Library and discovered the entire hall was decorated red: on walls were full of Party history file photos; from the broadcast came the song "the sun is the reddest, Chairman Mao is the dearest"; offered to patrons for free were red rice and pumpkin soup (Red Army food – Xujun).  Very ostentatious!

Many people left comments under the "red" photos; of course those were politically conscious old comrades who extolled the Party. Very interestingly though, below the photo of Comrade Mao Zedong was a line of childish writing:

"Grandpa Mao, I don't miss you at all, because I see you on RMB every day."

I was going to take a photo of it with my cell phone; immediately a staff member came to stop me, class struggle written all over his face.  I smiled at him: "I just want a memento of your propaganda. What's the big deal?"  He asked back directly, "What is your work unit?" I had to "run away with my tail between my legs."

(Note:  1. RMB is Chinese banknote; 2. "Imperialists ran away with their tails between their legs" is a line in the red song "Socialism Is Good." – Xujun)

中文原文:

一周以前我还以为上海这样的所谓国际大都市不会像重庆那样离谱。

      上周去图书馆，发现整个大堂都布置成一片红了，满墙贴的都是党史资料照片，免费供应红米饭南瓜汤，放着“太阳最红，毛主席最亲的歌”。阵仗得很！

       那些红色照片下有不少人留言，当然都是有觉悟的老同志在歌颂党啦。但在毛泽东同志的画像下有一行稚气的文字很有意思：毛爷爷，我一点都不想你，因为我天天在人民币上看见你。

       我拿出手机想拍照，马上有工作人员来阻止，满脸的阶级斗争。我笑言:你们搞宣传，我也作个纪念，有什么关系呢？工作人员就直接问：你是那个单位的？我只好夹着尾巴逃跑了。

My Block Booking for a Red Movie in Shanghai

by Maple, guest blogger

[Note:  July 1st this year marks the 90th birthday of China's Communist Party. To celebrate it, "red" movies and TV shows are sweeping the country, to the extent that popular spy shows are banned May through July. The biggest film made especially for this occasion is "The Great Cause of Founding the Party" (《建党伟业》), which, in the China-made English ad, is translated as "Beginning of the Great Revival." Its release day was June 15th.  Here is the experience of an ordinary moviegoer on June 17th. -- Xujun]

[in translation， 中文原文附后]

(Shanghai, June 17) I went to a movie theater this afternoon, to give myself a break after a week of intense painting. A French movie festival was ongoing, but I would have to wait until evening to see it. The 3D "Kung Fu Panda" was on, but that kind of fad is for teens with high-tech addictions and would only daze me.  

Coincidentally, the movie "The Great Cause of Founding the Party" (《建党伟业》) was about to start in 5 minutes. I bought the ticket, as if guided by a deity. Entering the screening room, I was stared at by the theater staff. They were whispering about me -- did they suspect my head was crushed by the door?

It turned out that,  in the whole screening room, with more than 400 seats, I was the only audience member, the only person who voluntarily dug into my own wallet to receive the "red" education.

To be fair, the movie is well made. The plot is tight, some details are moving, and the actors are high quality.  But to put more than a hundred of the most famous stars into one movie, that seems like a practical joke.

Last time when "The Great Cause of Founding the Country" (《建国大业》) was made [in a similar fashion], many people went to theaters driven by the urge to "identify famous faces." From the beginning to the end, every time a face appeared on the screen, the hundreds of audience would roar in one voice: "Tang Guoqiang!" "Liu Yiwei!" "Liu Dehua!"  For two hours, all were engaged in identifying, shouting, and guessing; identifying, shouting, and guessing. No one knew what the movie was about.  To call it "great education for all people" is not as precise as "great entertainment for all people."  Perhaps this was the leaders' real goal after all? Educating by entertaining?

Now once again the great entertainment comes, but the masses are tired, they don't want to play anymore. They have left me alone doing the identification and guessing. I still don't understand why Zhao Benshan (赵本山) would wordlessly stand in Yuan Shikai's (袁世凯) shadow, with an expression half laughing half crying, and why Liu Yunlong (柳云龙), an actor I admire, would be half hiding in the left lower corner like a shadow. This was too distracting! I identified this face and then that, couldn't hear at all what Zhou Runfa (周润发) was saying. What was the director's motive? I couldn't enjoy the movie itself, I was only thinking: Why is Wang Xuebing (王学兵) so haggard? Who is playing Xiaofengxian (小凤仙), so beautiful?

      

The most far-off thing was that all the scenes of Tang Wei (汤唯) were removed. She was acting Mao Zedong's first love (not Yang Kaihui), but because she had been all nude in "Lust, Caution," someone thought she would tarnish the great man's image.  Yet Liu Ye (刘烨), the man who plays Mao himself, had starred in the most well-known homosexual film "Lan Yu" (《蓝宇》), with many shots of him all-nude in bed. If the same logic were used, wouldn't he tarnish Mao's image more directly? If we were back in the Cultural Revolution, the director would certainly be executed twice.

My only consolation is that, as a big screen lover, I enjoyed 135 minutes of exclusive block booking of the theater all by myself. I sat there straight to the last minute, until all names of the actors, workers, and musicians ascended beyond the screen.

For a moviegoer like me who's sick beyond cure, the staff member at the door was very sad. He slowly shook his head, like an owl.

(Continue to read the Chinese text / 继续阅读中文原文)

A Boxer-Murder Mystery in Hainan: Part 4

by Maple, guest blogger

[in translation, continued from Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3 / 阅读中文原文]

"No fears, I can guide you there," an onlooker volunteered. "Just you alone, no others." The man said he knew a secret path into George's old residence. Karl followed the man without hesitation. Elder Wu, who noticed our uncertain expression, said with a smile, "Rest assured. Poison snakes don't bite their master."

Karl and Elder Wu

Soon Karl appeared on the other side of the wall, in the old cottage. He ran up and down the building excitedly, putting a finger by his lips to shush us. Situ shook his head, "Oh my God, I don't recognize him anymore. So excited!"

A Boxer-Murder Mystery in Hainan: Part 3

by Maple, guest blogger

[in translation, continued from Part 1 and Part 2 / 阅读中文原文]

I couldn't help but asking in a gossipy whisper: "The man behind us is George's grandson! How come you are not more excited to see him? Does he evoke any old memories? Does he look like his grandfather?" Elder Wu turned his face to me, eyes limpid and calm: "What kind of things have I not seen at this age? What's there to be excited about? Here you go, a castor leaf for you to block the sun."

I don't know whether I will live to 92, or if I did, whether I would no longer feel excited about anything. In any case I haven't woken to such a state in my current life. I trotted back to Situ and told him what Elder Wu said. Eloquent as Situ was, he stammered with widening eyes, "Therefore Elder Wu, he, he…" "Yes! Therefore hurry up, go tell Karl!" Watching Situ and Karl catching up with Elder Wu, Elder Zhou smiled tolerantly, "Disorder! I had planned to tell you guys at lunch."

A Boxer-Murder Mystery in Hainan: Part 2

by Maple, guest blogger

[in translation, continued from Part 1 / 阅读中文原文]

A brief history of Christianity in China before I go further:  Catholics first entered China in the 7th century; now there are about four million Catholics in the country, commonly distributed in the suburbs around cities big and small.  Protestants entered China in early 19^th century; their missionaries often settled in remote and backward areas. Many never returned home, but became common residents of villages, unknown to the public. They struggled to make a living in adverse conditions, just like the locals, until they died and were buried in the wilderness. Along the Yunnan-Tibet, Yunnan-Burma, and Sichuan-Tibet borders, I've often seen tombstones like this: "Allen Thompson, English missionary, 1805-1886."  Currently China has about ten million Protestants.

*

A little after 10 am, we arrived at the town of Jiaji, in Qiong Hai city’s jurisdiction. I hadn't been here for four or five years, and was a bit surprised by its change. The rural dirt roads had developed into a four-lane asphalt highway. The farm fields on the roadside had changed into beautiful residential enclaves. Carrefour and Kentucky Chicken replaced farmers markets. Four- or five-star hotels neatly lined up.

Situ asked: "Therefore each year the Boao Forum for Asia (博鳌亚洲论坛会) is held here? Didn't Ms. Clinton stay here a few days ago?"  I laughed: "You are a China Hand! Even this you have heard. Who knows, tonight you guys might stay in the same hotel Hillary did." "That's impossible," Situ said, "we booked the hotel online. It's an average one, about 700 yuan." He took out the receipt to show me – it was exactly the Sofitel Hotel where Hillary had been! Situ laughed loudly: "Therefore Hainan people are really fortunate! In Beijing hotels of this caliber would cost two or three thousand yuan a night."

A Boxer-Murder Mystery in Hainan: Part 1

by Maple, guest blogger

[in translation, 阅读中文原文]

Hainan, China –  One evening near the end of November, I got a call from Beijing. My friend DL asked if I could help an American trace his ancestor in Hainan.

DL's friend, Doctor Cai, who practices Chinese medicine in the US, is the nephew of Chen Lifu and Chen Guofu, brothers of one of the "four big families" in Nationalist China. Many of Doctor Cai's patients are Americans fond of Chinese traditional culture. Every year, a portion of those follow Doctor Cai to visit China, hoping to learn about this age-old and mystical country through first-hand experience.

This November, as usual, Doctor Cai brought a dozen or so Americans to Beijing. After the group activities were finished, all but one returned to the US. Karl, a Los Angeles real estate developer, stayed for a reason.

Pleasure and Pain at Shanghai World Expo

by Maple, guest blogger

[in translation; 阅读中文原文]

SHANGHAI, China – Before the Shanghai Expo began, a friend and I made different predications on which month would be the most crowded. She said May, because it'd start with the three-day labor-day holiday period. I said June, because everyone would think the same way my friend did and thus try to avoid May. I was unfortunately right, but because of a chance circumstance, I myself ended up going there in the peak month.

My husband and I planned on a three-day visit: one day each to the Asia Square, Europe and America Squares, and the Urban Best Practices Area, respectively.

Friends who had been there before told us, if you don't want to wait for hours in line outside the Expo gate, noon is a better time to go. Indeed, we arrived at the security point around 11:30 am, and there was almost no line. When asked, a staff said that since 9:00, over 400 thousand people had gone in. My heart tightened: what a rumpus would 400 thousand people kick up inside! But when we reached the square, it was surprisingly empty. Where had all the people gone? Standing in lines all over the world.

Lines at Expo gate (photo by Maple Xu)

The Ancient Battlefield at Bowang Hill

by Maple, guest blogger

[in translation]

For this year's National Day vacation, our target was Nanyang City in Henan Province. There are many historical sites from the Three-Kingdom period (220-280) in this area, one of them the famous Bowang Hill (博望坡).

The three of us – my husband and I, plus our friend Shen – drove from Haikou to Henan. Shen is a Three Kingdoms fan. As we approached Bowang Hill, our usually taciturn friend became amazingly voluble, stories flowing out from his mouth like a running river.

It is said that, shortly after Liu Bei's three courteous visits to Zhuge Liang's thatch hut won the heart of the great war strategist, Cao Cao led an army of 100,000 to attack them. Liu Bei had only a few thousand troops, and he placed all his hope on Zhuge Liang's help. The two discussed strategies alone all day, leaving out Liu Bei's two blood brothers Guan Yu and Zhang Fei. Guan and Zhang did not trust the new strategist and were upset by Liu Bei's intimacy with him. With such a big disparity in strength between the enemy's troops and theirs, they didn't believe there would be any way for Zhuge Liang to defeat Cao Cao. But they were, of course, wrong.

Shen explained to me that, at the time Bowang Hill was a rugged area full of bushes and old trees. Zhuge Liang lured Cao Cao's army up the hill, then started a fire all around them. Trapped, Cao's soldiers could neither advance nor retreat, and most were burned to death. Thus Zhuge Liang easily won the first battle after taking up his official post as Liu Bei's adviser.

My heart couldn't bear the burning scene and I said to Shen, This Mr. Zhuge was too insidious and cruel.

What do you know? Shen glared at me, That's called war strategy. Further more, Liu Bei was defending himself; it was Cao Cao, the invader, who was on the wrong side.

Even so, I said, Need he have burned so many men? That was hardly a green strategy either.

Shen was so angry he could only laugh. Lady, he said, That was a time of cold weapons, what else do you expect? Available strategies were nothing more than fire or water.

At the point we had reached Bowang Hill. We chose an ancient post road crossing the hill from north to south. The road was over five feet wide, and we had learned that it was on this section of the road Liu Bei's army had ambushed Cao Cao.

Unexpectedly, challenge began as soon as our car got on that road.

Bowang Hill (photo by Maple Xu)

It wasn't a surprise that the ancient path had been changed to a concrete road, however even Zhuge Liang couldn't have guessed that 1800 years later it would become the villagers' drying square. It was the season for harvesting corn and canola, and the peasants dried the stalks on the road in order to use them as fuel. Those stalks didn't just occupy part of the road; they were piled over the entire road like small mountains everywhere.

We had to look for the lowest "peaks" for our car to pass. The plant stalks screeched under the wheels and scratched the windows, and our car crawled slower than an ant.

Seeing the sun was about to set, I asked my husband to find a different path. He sneered, Obviously you don't know where you are! I looked around and realized that we, like Cao Cao's army, were trapped in a situation in which neither advance nor retreat was viable. There wasn't even a place to turn around.

The villagers not only were unapologetic for the trouble they created for traffic, they held their wooden harrows tight and angrily stared at the cars, as if to say, Did you city people eat so much that you have to come to our drying ground to burst?

My husband advised me to accept fate. Let's just crawl as we can. If you don't behave, that man standing over there might light up the stalks and replay the Bowang Hill burning scene.

Shen lost patience and started to yell. I consoled him that we should soon see a big ancient tree, the sole witness remaining from the Bowang fire battle. Who knows whether that tree is real or fabricated for tourists? He shouted.

I got out of the car to ask a few peasants about the tree. They looked totally lost, unaware what their place had to do with Zhuge Liang. An old man pushing a bike passed by and asked, Are you looking for the Three-Kingdom sites? There's nothing left except a dead old tree. It's still several kilometers away, not worth all your trouble.

— So the Bowang Hill's fire battle was real?
— What a question! Of course it was real. The old generation all know clearly about it. In the fields we often dig out dirt that was burned black. The young people don't know because they are only interested in making money today. Old stories are useless to them.
— Why don't you locals take pride in the history and preserve the old sites?
— What's there to be proud of? Zhuge Liang, he wasn't even a Bowang person. Spending money on a few broken old walls is not as useful as building a temple to burn incense, don't you think? All we peasants want is to farm well, and have a temple to pray for good weather. It's just a little inconvenience for you city people to come down and play during our busy season, right?
— Right.

Thus we never got to see the tree, or any relic from the Three Kingdoms time at Bowang Hill .

Valentine's Madness in Shanghai

by Maple Xu

[in translation]

On Valentine's Day, Shanghai went mad! No parking available at squares, restaurants or karaokes; to eat out one had to wait in a long line; streets were unbearably jammed by cars.

Strangely, since the financial crisis began, it seems my countrymen's consumption power has been growing intensely. In the past years on Valentine's Day, at most the price of roses went up and Western-style restaurants got more customers. This year, the old and the young all came out to join in the merry-making. Even Chinese-style restaurants had long lines. Movie theaters were explosively filled. Rose prices surged from 2 yuan to 15 yuan a stem; people still grabbed them like a free-lunch, buying 99 stems at a time.

I suspect my countrymen are having the fin-de-siecle anxiety, smashing the pot that has already cracked. Why wait for inflation, why not indulge in flowers and wine now and buy that one-time happiness. But most of my friends think this is because Chinese have bank deposits; in addition, people are irritated by the American financial crisis, so they spend just to show you they can spend.

In this year's Spring Festival Gala, Zhao Benshan (note: a famous skit and sitcom actor) had a stage speech "we are not short of money; give me whatever is good." Now people around me often say "not short of money!"

The Mosuo Walking Marriage on Lugu Lake (2)

by Maple Xu

(Maple's travel log continues from The Mosuo Walking Marriage on Lugu Lake (1)...)

On the long distance bus to Lugu Lake, two men sitting behind me had been chatting about "walking marriage." One man asked, "Mosuo men can 'walking-marry' freely, but they don't get to live with their children, wouldn't they be too lonely in old age? Who take care of them when they get old?" The other replied: "The abundant romance of youth, is worth the loneliness of old age. Everything has a price after all."

The two men did not know all the facts. Though Mosuo men live with their mother, and are not responsible for rearing their own children, they have the duty to help bring up the children of their sisters. In a Mosuo family, uncles are the decision makers on external affairs. They have an adage, "The biggest flying thing in the sky is eagle, the biggest walking thing on the earth is uncle." When they get old, their nieces and nephews attend upon them until their death.

Lugu Lake

A friend once told me, his Mosuo friends couldn't understand why the Han people have terms like "lonely old widows" and "five-guaranteed households" (五保户"). They don't understand why Han families are full of domestic fights, even violence and family wars. Those are things they just can't imagine. The Mosuo people living along the Lugu Lake are proud of the auspicious and peaceful ambience in their family life; in this respect they think they are superior to any other race.

*

One morning I was photographing a sunrise at the lakeside, and ran into a bunch of tourists waiting for a bus to return to Lijiang. A fifty-ish northern woman was talking volubly. She said, "Yesterday I asked the young man rowing the boat, 'You sing and laugh all day, do you ever have an unhappy moment?' But he asked me back, 'What is "unhappy"?' I wasn't convinced and again asked a girl who was washing her hands in the lake, 'Are there times that you feel unhappy?' She replied, 'Unhappy? Why unhappy?'"

At this point the northern woman got very excited and raised her voice, "Look! They don't even know what unhappy means! They are always happy!" Her companion replied that nobody can always be happy. The woman argued, "They don't suffer extramarital affairs or property disputes like in our Han families, why shouldn't they be always happy?"

Her friend teased, "Sounds like heaven, then why don't you stay here?" The woman said seriously, "I really wish I were a Mosuo woman!"

That was the moment I understood why my friend has lived here contentedly for ten years.

*

Last night at my friend's teahouse, we warmed ourselves by a fire and chatted. The landlord came by, and I tagged him. "I have many questions for you," I said. He sat down by me and said good-naturedly, "I'm happy to answer any question."

My friend's tea house on Lugu Lake

- First question: How come you and your wife live together?

- That's because we have three brothers but no sister, and our mother died early. A family must have a woman as the household head; I'm the oldest brother, so my wife has to live here and take the responsibility of managing the family. Actually, "walking marriage" isn't the only form of marriage. There is another form: man and woman live together with either one's family. The principle is that the relationship is based on love, to marry by will, to leave freely. If the relationship is terminated, then each side returns to his or her mother's family. Unlike me, my two brothers are in walking marriages, and my youngest brother is the village head.

- How did you decide on your wife?

- Our love is no different from you Han people. When I was young I dated three or four girls. Only after I had children with my wife did the relationship become stable.

- How do you end a relationship?

- When the woman stops opening her door, or the man no longer comes in the night, the old relationship is ended and both sides are free to start a new one. It's all natural.

- How does a woman's family view her man in a walking marriage?

- The man comes to the woman after dusk, and leaves before dawn. At first he would avoid running into her family members. In the morning if you see sheepish men passing by, chances are they are returning home after a night of the walking marriage. The lovers will stay shy, even pretending not know each other on the street, before they have children and their relationship goes public. If you observe closely you will see that, in the night, no matter who knocks on a door, no one inside will open it for you, unless you shout out that you are an outside visitor, then an elder or a child will come.

- Since a man does not have the legal obligation to raise his children, wouldn't that give men too much freedom and women too much work?

- Mosuo women are the happiest members in their family. The female house head has all the power, including control of property and money. Her siblings take care of the children together with her. Even in sexual relationships women take initiative. On the surface, men have all the freedom, but once he is rejected by his girlfriend, there's nothing left for him except a "spring dream." There is a Musuo adage, "Men's heaven, women's world."

- Could a man be walking-marrying to three women simultaneously?

- (Laugh) Where does his time or energy come from? When I was dating my wife, we had a 20-kilometer distance between us. It was only because we were young and energetic that we lasted. Although there is no rule on how many walking marriages one can have, you must terminate one relationship before starting another. Custom and tradition do not allow two relationships simultaneously; an unfaithful man is going to be despised. This is no different from you Han people.

- Would you enter another walking marriage?

- Certainly not. What age does what things. Most Mosuo people settle down after they have children. Furthermore, I'm very satisfied with my present life. My wife is good in every respect!

What he said made my thoughts fly to the Mosuo life style. All relationships are based on love. A big matriarchal family with tens of members is filled with joy and peace. Children are loved by multiple mothers. Elders calmly enjoy their final years with a loving family. In another thousand years, will we Han evolve to such an ideal state? But the vanguard Mosuo people already began the heavenly life 1500 years ago. #

(All photos by Maple Xu, ©Copyright 2008, Maple Xu)

The Mosuo Walking Marriage on Lugu Lake (1)

by Maple, guest blogger

(Note: Some of you already know that Maple is an avid traveler and photographer. This is one of her latest travelogues, posted in two parts. See also her Dream Left on Covered Bridges 廊桥遗梦, and Yuyuan Taiji Celestial Village. - Xujun)

[in translation]

Ten years ago, what first brought me to Lugu Lake was a travel magazine photo. In that photo Lugu Lake was like a sparkling gem, inlayed on the northwest Yunnan highlands, the water's radiating reflections and the mountains' rich colors comprising an unsurpassed beauty.

I did not know much then about the rare continuation of the Mosuo people's matriarchal tradition. At the time Lugu Lake was a newly developed tourist attraction. The entire village had only one or two guest houses, two-floor wooden lodges made by the locals. Upstairs were bedrooms. On the ground level was the spacious central room, in the middle of which a huge fire pit burning wood day and night. On the fire buttered tea was boiling; in the fire fresh potatoes and corn were roasting.

Lugu Lake

In the house I stayed at there was an old grandmother, who sat in a big wooden bed cushioned with a thick sheep wool blanket, and smiled at me kindly. She did not speak Mandarin, and I didn't know the Mosuo language, so the only thing I could do was to smile back at her. We smiled at each other for probably a couple of minutes or longer, but neither of us felt awkward. Then she went to the fire pit and dug out two cobs of roasted corn, deliciously aromatic. She patted the residual ashes off the cobs with her furrowed hands before giving them to me. I obediently sat by her and ate. She looked at me; the warmth of a tender affection in her eyes made me remember my late grandma.

During the next few days I noticed that men and women in the house all revered the grandmother. When eating they held the best food to her first. When sleeping they kept the warmest place for her. For everything they asked her opinion first.

I asked her son, This place is called a "girls kingdom," does it mean women have the highest status? And he told me about the Mosou tradition of "A'xia," or "walking marriage." The man and woman in such a relationship each lives with his and her own mother. The man comes to the woman at night and leaves at dawn. All their children are raised by the woman. The two sides have no ties in terms of production, living, or properties. Their relationship emphases love, and they marry freely and part at will.

I was not impressed. Such a marriage is not protected by law. Wouldn't things fall into chaos? A woman can have many men and a man can have many women. Children don't even know who their real father is.

Mosuo woman

But the son said to me in all seriousness: Don't you Han people also have unfaithful men? The situation does exist among Mosou, some men to have "walking marriages" with several women. However usually a man has a relationship with only one woman at a time. When a couple fall out of love, the man simply stops "walking" to the woman, there is no property dispute or custody fight. It's not like you Han people who turn into enemies because of a divorce.

In every Mosuo family, the household head is the oldest woman. The grandmother in the house I stayed had two sons and three daughters. The oldest daughter had been in a "walking marriage" for three years already and they had a boy. Her other two sisters were still young. Both brothers were in their twenties and every night they went out for their "walking marriage." The older brother had a daughter, raised by the baby's mother.

Mosuo cats

I was both confused and curious. That night I begged the oldest daughter to take me to their "guozhuang" dance party. Mosuo women are natural sopranos. The woman's singing of "Qinhai and Tibet Highlands" stunned all the Han tourists.

At that time the Lugu Lake area did not have street lights. The oldest daughter and I walked home in the dark, behind us were a bunch of men holding touches, chatting and laughing. I asked, Is your boyfriend among them? Is he coming to you tonight? I want to see how handsome he is. She laughed bashfully, pointing a finger at me but couldn't talk. Not until we reached the door when she whispered to me that it was still early, time for men to drink and chat. He would come late in the night, after everybody at home had gone to bed.

I became more curious. You two already have a son, how come you are still so shy about it? Her face turning red and she laughed again. She pulled my long hair and complained, Why are you asking about everything? I'm not talking any more. Her expression made me yearn for the Mosuo love.

I imagined myself as a strong Mosuo man, on a night with a bright moon and thin stars, rowing a boat carved of a whole tree trunk, from the island in the lake, knocking my lover's door. Not for money, not for status, not even for progeny, just for love, pure love.

Mosuo man

That night by the fire pit, I asked my host's youngest daughter, Your sister's son is only a few months old, and she needs to work in the day, tending her walking marriage in the night, who takes care of the baby? The girl looked surprised by the question. We all take care of him, she said, whoever has the time. He's OUR son.

Children call all women at home "Ama." The grandmother, aunts and uncles are all their guardians.

~

Now, ten years later, I arrive at Lugu Lake again. It has become a hot tourist attraction. The lakeside is full of bars, shops, and hotels. Tourists do not come in groups of two or three carrying backpacks; they pour out of buses and cars. Using the words of a friend, who has been running a teahouse here for a decade, "It is horrible!"

Fortunately there are still misty waves on the lake of the horse hoof shape. Fat clouds in the blue sky are still exaggeratedly gorgeous. Water reflecting mountain, mountain shimmering with dew, Lugu Lake is still like a fairyland. Perhaps even more fortunate, the transportation is still backward. From the nearest travel center Lijiang is 200 kilometer and takes nearly10 hours winding up the mountains. I don't want to imagine, if there were a highway, or an airport, what would happen to Lugu Lake.

Mosuo dog

What would happen? My teahouse owner friend replies, Of course my business would be even better. Apples and walnuts from the mountains would be easier to sell to outside.

Don't you know that the ancient town Dayan in Lijiang has been destroyed by the endless development of tourist business? Do you want Lugu Lake to become the next Dayan? I say to my friend.

You don't understand, my friend pats my shoulder tolerantly; Mosuo people have the instinct of self-preservation. What you worry about won't happen here. (To be continued)

(All photos by Maple Xu, ©Copyright 2008, Maple Xu)

"Is this Beijing?"

by Maple Xu

[in translation]

My husband W and a friend H went to see the closing ceremony of the Olympics, and their conclusions were unusually uniform: it was fun and playful.

Zhang Yimou had put word out early on that the closing ceremony wouldn't have many performances; the goal was simply to delight and cheer the athletes, like throwing a huge party. So from the beginning W and H did not hold hope of seeing splendid performances. They just wanted to be there in person, to feel the ambience. 

They say the Olympic Village is big and beautiful, where one can spend days to tour around.

Though the closing ceremony was broadcast at 8 o'clock, on site the programs began about 6:00 pm, so-called "stage warm-up." Chen Peisi, Yang Lan, Zhou Tao etc. were performing. And, while the broadcast finished at 10:00 pm, on site people kept boisterous until after 11:00 pm - Chen Long, Liu Dehua and a bunch of Chinese singers bounced and sang.

 

As soon as W and H entered [the Bird's Nest], they were given a big bag of things: red-silk fan, rattle-drum, light-torch, national and Olympic flags, etc. Volunteers taught them how and when to use those things. After the ceremony began, volunteers led the audience play those props. One moment they shook the rattle-drum, the next they waved the toy torch. They even used the red-silk fan to form big waves. In short all the audience were kept busy, not sure if they were watching others perform, or others watching them.

Two days before W's trip, he had a leg problem. He boarded the plane with a bandaged leg. Unexpectedly, as soon as he boarded, he was invited to the first class cabin. After he landed in Beijing, volunteers held his arms to help him get on a taxi. When eating [in restaurants], he was exempted from waiting in line, and volunteers even made a special table for him. His impression of Beijing was that it was unusually pretty and tidy. Because traffic was strictly controlled, few cars or pedestrians could be seen on the streets. All ads that were irrelevant to Olympics had been removed. This clean-up resulted in a complete new face of the city, so much so it made him wonder – "Is this Beijing?"

And H the American Shanghaier even wondered "Is this China?" Because people in Beijing suddenly became super friendly, live Lei Fengs [a famous Samaritan] were everywhere on the streets, everyone's face was full of spring wind and wreathed in smiles, and our countrymen's usual numb, detached, or gloomy looks were completely wiped out. 

They both said that if you want to visit Beijing, it is the best time now. It is abnormally Heaven-like. I'm afraid that, after the Paralympics, everything will return to normal again.

Dream Left on Covered Bridges 廊桥遗梦

by Maple Xu

(Note: Maple, an avid traveler and photographer, just sent me another interesting travelogue. It makes you wonder how many mysteries exist in Chinese cultural history, just like the Yuyuan Taiji Celestial Village she wrote about last time. – Xujun)

Immortal Resident Bridge, built in 1453

[In translation]

Many years ago I read 廊桥遗梦 ("a dream left on covered bridges" – the Chinese translation for The Bridges of Madison County). That little book touched me deeply, even today I still remember some of the words Robert said to Francesca.

I was young and couldn't understand why Francesca would choose to stay instead of go with Robert. I felt sad and dejected for Robert. I took the novel as a true story, and wanted to go look for that covered bridge with blooming butterfly flowers at its foot.

At the time I did not have any idea what a covered bridge was.

Wenzhong Bridge, 1745

Three years ago when I traveled to Nanxi River, two backpack travelers from Beijing told me there were over a hundred covered bridges in Taishun County (泰顺县), located on the border between Zhejiang and Fujian provinces. This information gave me palpitations; for a while I was speechless. I couldn't imagine what the landscape would look like with so many covered bridges scattered in the fields. Would there be butterfly flowers blooming by them? Would Robert's love be there waiting? Even though this is a different country, covered bridges are covered bridges, right? Their existence itself suggests romanticism more than utility.

Today I'm in Taishun. Traversing the quiet villages one after another, looking for the different charming bridges one after another, I am baffled. Why has this remote, rather poor countryside assembled the largest number of covered bridges in China? Who designed them? Who first got the idea? Who built them? Were they for practical use or for recreation?

Three Woods Bridge, originally from Tang Dynasty, rebuilt 1843. An ancient poem inked on it

Records show that, fleeing from disasters or war, bit by bit many historical figures and worthy people had migrated to Taishun, an unfrequented area with undulating mountains, a utopia. They created many pastoral local cultures, and the covered bridges are representative of those.

The Taishun Transportation Chronicle records that a total of 476 bridges built before 1949 still exist, including over 30 covered bridges made of wood or stone from the Ming and Qing Dynasties. Six of the covered wooden bridges hold important positions in world bridge history.

Here what amazes me the most are the flying wooden arch bridges built without pillars. They are constructed of relatively short pieces of wood, horizontally and vertically woven, with beams interpenetrating and pinned to shape the arch. The ingenious structure is simply marvelous!

I run into several old men sitting sunbathing on the stone steps of Yongqing Bridge. This bridge is unique in its beams carved with carp feelers.

Yongqing Bridge, 1797, including 12 bridge houses; carp feelers carved on beams

One of the old men, with an expression resembling a smile yet not smiling, asks me, "Is the bridge good to look at?" "Yes!" I answer. "Nothing that good," he says. I want to question more, but he turns his head and says nothing further.

I think he means NOW the bridges are no longer good. Long, long ago, when there was no highway, the air was clean and fresh, the mountains were bright, the water was beautiful, the woods were lush, and the meadows were green. It was to this other-worldly place the covered bridges added rosy color.

Perhaps the old man wanted to tell me the bridges were good to look at only then.

Now the covered bridges are beaten and mutilated. The branches of the old camphor tree at the bridgehead are wizened and the leaves sparse. The most sorrowful scene is the assortment of plastic garbage thrown in the river under the bridges, and the white ceramic tile walls of the cement houses surrounding them.

But all that seems no longer important. The important thing is the covered bridges are still here. Like Robert's love.

Sister Bridges – East Bridge, 400 years old

Sister Bridges – North Bridge, 300 years old

Liu House Bridge, 1405, the oldest "flat" wooden bridge

Wenxing Bridge, 1857, asymmetric structure, 51 meters long, 5 meters wide; the most well-kept

Yuwen Bridge, 1839, stone arch, wooden corridor; the most beautiful

Claiming Clouds Bridge, Ming Dynasty, Zhengde Reign

(Photo copyrights 2008 Maple Xu)

Taiji Celestial Village

by Maple Xu

Note: Maple is an avid traveler and photographer in China. I savor her travelogues, which are always unusual. Here I'm sharing with you the latest she sent me last week. Any translation error is mine. - Xujun

Yuyuan is a little known village in China's Zhejiang Province. For many hundreds of years, the villagers surnamed "Yu" worked and lived peacefully there. A first glance at the village would reveal no difference from any others around.

One day, by chance, someone flying by in an airplane looked down and saw it. He was so shocked that he broke out into a cold sweat. The eleven hills surrounding the village, together with the Taiji Yin-Yang Fish, constitute the 12 signs of celestial zodiac. Arranged in the classical Eight Diagrams, the village's 28 building blocks correspond to the 28 Celestial Mansions, with seven old wells forming the Big Dipper. The Yu clan's ancestral hall is located in the center of the constellation. A complete Taiji Celestial Diagram on earth!

The news spread, and brought in curious visitors. They found the oldest man in the village, who told a legend.

An ancestor of the Yu clan, Yu Lai, was friend and classmate of Liu Bowen (1311-1375), the great war-strategist from the Yuan Dynasty. Yu Lai had no interest in fame and wealth, and loathed officialdom. He lived all his life in the country, fishing, gardening, composing poems, and teaching children. Liu Bowen deeply respected the lighthearted classmate, and kept close contact with him even after Liu had became one of the highest officials in the emperor's court.

Every time Liu Bowen visited his home, which is not too far from Yuyuan, he always came to see Yu Lai first and stayed for a few days. Liu Bowen was a learned man, conversant from a young age in the art of war, works of Confucian and other ancient Chinese classics, astronomy and geography, Yin-Yang and divination. He was also fond of geological exploration, and had deep attainment in hydraulic engineering.

At the time, Yuyuan constantly suffered either drought or flood. Epidemics occurred frequently; people lived in dire poverty. Liu Bowen rearranged the Yu clan's generational names according to celestial constellations, and designed the Taiji celestial diagram for the village's reconstruction. Under his guidance, the villagers changed the straight stream into a curved one, and used the new stream as the Yin-Yang border in the Taiji diagram. The houses and wells were relocated accordingly. From then on, Yuyuan Village became free of disasters. Now the Yu clan's incense has passed to the 28th generation. Most of the over two thousand residents are surnamed Yu. The village is the largest Yu clan inhabitant in China.

The Yuyuan Village Taiji Diagram measures 320 meters in diameter, and has an area of 120 hectares, or 720 acres. The village preserves over 400 ancient buildings, with refined woodcarving, as well as stone- and brick-carving. In the eyes of the old residents, every tree in the village has a designated location that can't be moved. Any move would break the Feng-Shui, and the person who causes such a break would suffer retribution.

Shortly after the Liberation in 1949, someone attempted to fill a well so he could build a house over it. As soon as he finished filling the well, his house was on fire. Digging to reopen the well put out the fire. Any attempt to refill the well brought the fire back. Several attempts later, he gave up and did not dare to be impetuous any more.

That well is one of the seven stars in the Big Dipper. I found it following the village map faithfully, as if searching for treasure. So many years have gone by; matters are the same, people are different. In the well, clear water still bubbles.

An old lady was washing a bamboo board by the well. She told me an ancestral temple in the village has a beam that unfailingly makes the correct forecast for the weather.

I asked around along the way, and finally found the somewhat beaten old house. The keeper pointed to me the legendary beam, with nine perfectly preserved carps carved on it.


But when I first saw the carps, I counted and counted but could only find eight. "This is what you don't understand," the keeper twisted his lips complacently, "in the old times only the emperor was entitled to the number nine. If nine fish were obviously carved on the beam, wouldn't it risk the suspicion of competing with the emperor's 9-dragon pillar? That's why our smart ancestor honored the taboo and carved the 9th fish in the mouth of the eighth."

After seeing the light, I indeed found a lovely brisk little fish in a big fish's mouth.

It is said that the fish turn crimson for a sunny day, but khaki under an overcast sky. Rainy days, they are brown. That day when I visited, the weather was uncertain: after being cloudy for a while, it drizzled. Then it turned overcast again.

"Is that why the fish show alternating khaki and brown?"

The keeper responded to my question with an unfathomable smile.

(Photo copyrights 2007 Maple Xu)