This is my dear friend, Helen who invited me to travel with her to her hometown in a very rural part of Northern China.
Helen’s Chinese name is Song Hua Bo but as
the fourth of five children she received the affectionate nickname, 4 or
sometimes, Si Jie (Sister 4). Her parents were farmers in a small rural
community in Heilongjiang Province and though in the early years of their
marriage they could barely afford to live, they persisted in having a big
family of children.
You see, the first four babies were girls, and
every Chinese family needs a boy.
Not that Helen’s parents didn’t love their daughters
but, traditionally, girls grow up and go live with their husband’s family. Helen’s parents knew they needed a boy who
would take care of the farm, live with them always, and care for them in their
old age.
In the early years of the one-child policy,
enforcement was lax in the countryside areas.
So Helen’s parents broke the law until their son was born…lucky baby
number five.
Helen and her siblings had a poor, but
happy, childhood. Their farm was small
so they spent most of their time, not helping labor in the field, but running
wild across the countryside.
They swam in the river in the summer, drug
each other across flat fields on homemade sleds in the winter, and alternately terrorized the
neighborhood kids and their animals at all times of year.
It was fun having lots of siblings but five
kids meant that none of them were entitled to free public school
education. Every year her parents would
scrape to find money to keep their children in primary school. Her father often borrowed money from
neighbors.
When Helen finished middle school her parents could no longer afford to keep her in school, she needed to get a job. Many girls left to go work in factories but she was lucky, a position opened up at her primary school. At 14, she became the village Kindergarten teacher responsible for 30 students.
I asked her once, “Helen how did you even know what to do with those kids.” With no access to internet or any training I couldn’t imagine how she prepared for class or managed the room.
She said, “Well, I was not very good.”
Maybe Helen had a difficult time at first, but I don’t believe that she wasn’t good at her job. Helen is a born intellectual and one of the smartest people I know. She possesses a natural curiosity and a drive for self-improvement that always astounds me.
She found a few books at the school that she used to create simple lesson plans. She also began to teach herself English using the student books.
She did this for 500 yuan a month (the equivalent of 80 US dollars).
In the meantime, Helen’s dad pulled together enough money to send her brother to board and study at a secondary school in a town 2 hours away. Earning a high school diploma made him one of the most educated people in his village, attaining a higher education level than even the town magistrate.
When Helen was 18 years old, her parents asked
her if she was ready to get married and presented her with an option, a classmate
of Helen’s whose family was looking for a daughter-in-law.
She declined. She just felt too young, like she hadn’t
lived enough of life yet. Her sisters had left the village and gone off to
pursue their futures out in the city.
Helen was terrified of do this but she wanted to get out and see what
else life had to offer her.
The boy chose a different bride and still lives with her in the village as a farmer.
I asked Helen, “What do you think your life
would’ve been like if you had decided to marry him?”
She said, “I just can’t imagine. I never would’ve gone to school. I know I would not be able to speak English.”
When Helen was 20 she decided to travel to
Harbin. She enrolled in an adult
education program, where she studied English.
For four years she lived in a 15x15 m room with 6 other women and no
kitchen. Her parents sent her money for
her tuition and she worked part time as an English tutor. She describes this as one of the most
difficult times in her life. She was
terrified of the big city and had no idea how to interact with her
roommates. She grew up a lot in the four
years that she lived and studied in Harbin.
After Helen finished her program, her
sisters sent her money to come to Suzhou and look for work. That’s when she began with Disney
English. Like most Chinese students she
had spent hundreds of hours learning English and could write well, but her oral
grasp of the language was very poor.
James was her teaching partner, and though he speaks quite good Chinese, he decided to help her with her language skills by only using English. She grew a lot in that first year they worked together and by the time I met her in 2012 she was regularly called on to translate at center meetings and events.
Helen is a lovely woman. She is sensible, funny, kind hearted, and truly brilliant. Some of my happiest memories in China have been made curled up in a booth at Hu's Tavern talking to Helen about our dreams for the future, laughing about silly things that have happened with our freinds or me marvelling at how this seemly simple country girl has such an informed understanding of politics, history and art.
And now for my trip to Helen's village...
Helen's home! When she was a girl the house was two rooms. A kitchen and a common area where they ate meals and also where her parents slept. She slept with her siblings in a 'mud house' in the back yard. In recent years her brother built an addition on the house where he now lives with his wife. This addition includes another kitchen, a washing room and and common area.
You
may wonder how these people keep warm in sub zero temperatures without
centralized heating systems. Meet the kàng. All of the homes have this traditional long (2 meters or more)
platform for general living, working, entertaining and sleeping. It’s made of
concrete and it’s interior is heated by a wood cooking fire fed from an
adjacent room. It occupies about 1/2 of
the room. During the day the fire warms
the surface temperature and at night the concrete retains heat so that the fire
doesn’t have to actually burn while people sleep.
Above are some pics of the kitchen/fireplace that is heating the kang. On top of the fire are large iron basins where they cook (like a giant wok). When they're not cooking the family regularly refills the basin with water so they always have a supply of hot water. I imagine having the water constantly evaporating into the air also helps with the winter driness.
Below you can see the kang that's in Helen's
brother's side of the house. The addition is significantly fancier than the original house, I'm glad Helen's family is doing well enough financially that they could add something this nice to their home.
So, yeah, I slept on a concrete bed covered in a piece of vinyl contact paper. Comfy.
Read more about kangs here
Dinner on our first evening in Helen's home.
Dinner was a big bowl of spicy hot pot. Complete with specially purchased lamb and glass noodles. (When we ate hot pot in Harbin I raved about the lamb and the glass noodles so I'm pretty sure she called ahead and made sure that her family had prepared them for me.)
During the meal I commented that I liked the pickled cabbage very
much and that we have this food at home.
We call it sauerkraut. Helen told
her family this and immediately a big plate of it was brought over to the table
and dumped into the hot pot. I also
noticed that this was served at every meal afterwards. Even ordered at the restaurant because they
knew I liked it.
Also on the menu were frozen balls made of non-descript fish and a mystery spicy/oil sauce served out of plastic packages. And of course lots of beer and rice wine sipped out of bowls.
After dinner Helen told me, “Actually, my family has been very
worried about whether you would like the food and if there would be enough
things that you could eat. My mother told me, now that
they saw you like all the things and you can just eat normally they are very
happy.”
On the right you see the wood shed and the corn cob pile in Helen's front yard. On the left is a picture of me washing my hair in a basin of warm water. Helen's house doesn't have running water...which meant no shower for us for five days. My options for hair washing were to visit the public bathhouse or wash up in the kitchen. Helen filled a bowl with hot water for me...and then there was this awkward moment where the whole family stood around and watched me wash my hair. (It was such an event apparently Helen felt the need to snap this pic.)
I think everyone was having a surreal "there's a foreigner washing her hair in my kitchen" moment.
The family pig! I was obessed with him, venturing out into the cold to visit him and take pics of him everyday. I have no idea how he survives outside in the winter.
The family thought I was pretty quaint going out to visit an animal that, in their world, basically represents nothing more that a year's supply of bacon.
Three days after I went home Helen sent me a series of photos of the slaughtering of my piggy friend! She thought she was SO hilarious. Hmpf.
The most memorable part of my entire trip. Yes, this is the actual toilet. This is how it works:
1. Every evening you hold on to your bowl movement until the last possible second. Then at about 11:30pm you grab some kleenex and your phone and head outside in the -10 degree weather.
2. The phone is used to light your way as you unlatch the barn door and weave your way through farm equipment banging on things as you go to scare away rats that might be lurking around in the dark.
3. Behind the barn, next to the pig pen, you hold onto the frame of the outhouse while you test the wood pieces of the floor with your foot, just to triple check that they won't break when you step on them. (Here comes another reason for the phone...so I can call Helen should the wood break and I need her to come help me get out of the latrine)
4. You drop your pants, squat down and relieve yourself as quickly as possible because
a) it's really frickin' cold
b) maybe if you do it fast enough you can get your pants back on before a passing neighbor
gets a glimpse of your white bum.
Typical breakfast served on a folding table on top of the kang. Leftover hot pot from the night before, mysterious pickled vegetables, eggs cooked with celery, and yeasty steamed rolls called mantou. (A staple in the Northern part of China because more wheat is grown here than rice.)
I'm infatuated with mantou.
The front hallway is lined with jars of pickled cabbage and corn, stored for the winter.
Water pump in the kitchen. My mother saw this photo and said, "But what are all those dirty buckets?!" One is the slop bucket that they just use to catch unwanted food parts while they're cooking and then take out to the pig at the end of the day.
One is for catching water from the pump.
The white one is is for dirty water. They dump small quantities of water (like toothpaste water and hair washing water) in it and then take it outside to dump once it's been filled.
You never really think about how convenient
your life is until you see people that own a flat screen TV and cell phones carrying buckets of water out of the kitchen
The cutting board on the kitchen counter.
Cooking fireplace in Helen's parents' section of the house.
Even though winter is the slow season for farmers, Helen's parents seemed to be constantly busy. Helen's mom had just returned from a 2 month long visit to see her daughters in Shanghai and Suzhou, and consequently had a string of friends and neighbooring family over to catch up.
I had little opportunity to visit with her parents as they were also making preparations for Helen's brother's wedding.
Though I spent little time with them, I liked them immensely. I never saw her father without his giant fur trapper hat and he was always clucking at me to put on more clothes or to sit on the warmest part of the kang (which was actually so hot it was uncomfortable) because he was worried about me being cold.
One morning, Helen and I woke up late and her parents prepared breakfast for us and then came to sit and watch us eat. As I nibbled on my mantou I suddenly felt Helen's mother stroking my head and fingering my soft brown hair.
I smiled at her and her weathered face broke into a giant smile. Then she said,
(In Chinese, with prompting from Helen.)
Mom: And how is your mother?
Me: Um..she's good. She's preparing for a trip the China.
Mom: How many children does she have?
Me: I have 2 older brothers and one older sister. I'm the baby.
Mom: Oh! You are the baby! There are four children! And is your mother tall like you?
Me: No. My brothers are tall.
Mom: It is always like this. Children are taller than their mother. Hahaha! Now you must eat more.
(She then handed me more mantou.)
Two weeks before we left I texted Helen and asked, “What would be
some appropriate gifts for be to bring to your family?”
She said: “That is a question! Let me think and I will tell you
later.”
An hour later I got this text:
Ok I have asked my family
and I have the list:
My mom and dad would each
like gloves
My bother and his wife
would like hats
And my nephew would like a
backpack.
This text made me giggle.
Obviously there are some implied cultural differences in sending a list
of gifts to your house guest, but I was honestly relieved to have it when I
went shopping the following weekend.
In addition to their requests, I also bought body butter and facial masks (very popular in
China) for her mom. I think she ended up
giving the masks to Helen and there were lots of questions about what the heck
the body butter was for. (Helen has seen lotion before but she didn’t
understand why it was packaged in a jar/post.
I told her that I thought her mom could use it on her hands because it’s
so dry in the North during the winter.
She said, “I think it is too cold to use now. Maybe in the Summer….”) Ok.
When I went to Jesse’s house I made the mistake of bringing cookies
that were whisked away and never seen again.
I’ve learned that Chinese people don’t like sweets so this time I went
to the international supermarket and bought Blue Diamond Smokehouse Almonds and
a large bag of Sunmaid California Raisins.
These were a hit! They were passed around and brought out every time
someone came into the house, devoured within two days. (Mental Note: Nuts and
dried fruit for Chinese families from now on!)
For
her brother, I brought a bottle of Chivas Regal Scotch. He was excited and asked me lots of questions
about how to mix it. When I suggested
that he drink it straight he told me, no he wanted to serve it to his friends
(no doubt with an explanation of , “This is the Western alcohol that my foreign
friend gave me”) so he wanted to find a way to make it last longer.
I'll never forget the moment I left Helen's village and both her parents gave me big hugs. Her mom stroked my hair again and told me, "Don't forget to say hi to your mother for me." So sweet.
Even though I couldn't communicate much with them I could tell why Helen is such a wonderful person. Because she was raised by such an open, kind, and laid-back family.
Helen coming in the front door.
Chickens and dried chilis!
Supper is almost ready!
I asked Helen why they had taped plastic bottles to the windows and she explained that they keep the windows from rattling in the wind. (At least I think that's what she was trying to explain.)
I just fell in love with Helen's brother and his wife. Her name is Yuan Min and he asked me to give him an English name so I called him Luke during my entire visit. Luke and Yuan Min were the greatest. Luke was constantly trying to think of things that to entertain me and tried to come up with small English sentences to communicate.
Yuan Min spent all of her time helping Luke's parents cook and clean, asking Helen what I wanted to do and eat, and secretly snapping photos and videos of me when she thought I didn't notice.
I died laughing:
when during dinner, they realized that they'd forgotten the mantou in the other section of the house so they played rock, paper, scissors to determine who had to go outside to get it.
when I was sitting on the kang, playing on my phone and heard, "Are you ok?" I looked up and the two off them had popped their heads around the corner wearing the hats I had brought them with giant grins
when they insisted that we have a red shirt fashion show (depicted below)
One morning, 7am, Helen and I lay curled up on the kang fast asleep when her brother stuck
her head in side the front door and said, “Sis! I’m going over to get over to
get honey for Ashlee.” That morning at
breakfast I was presented with a giant peach jar filled with fresh honey.
Apparently, a man in the town (somehow related to the family) keeps
bees. It’s basically the best honey I’ve
ever had and I skipped the leftover hot pot that we’d been eating for three
days in favor of a bowl of it with two yeasty mantou rolls.
Towards the end of the meal Helen told me, “My dad wants to give a
present so he is going to get another jar.” “He does?! Wow, that’s going to be
a lot of honey.” “Yes, but he just
thinks you will like something very pure.” Then, in Helen’s typical
intellectual fashion she went quiet and did her ‘thousand mile stare’.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
“I’m just trying to think what else they can give you as a present.”
“No. Helen, they don’t need
to give me any presents. They’ve had me
in their home and fed me for three days, thats plenty. Don’t let them give me any gifts.”
She said, “Ok.” But that’s
how I came home with two giant jars of honey that it will take me a year to
eat.
One night Helen and I were casually lounging on the kang when her brother and his wife suddenly got up and started putting on all their winter outer wear. "Where are they going?" I asked. Helen said, "They just want to go to the store and get you some snacks.
Me: "Oh no, it's so cold and dark outside! They don't have to do that!"
Alas, the definition of Chinese entertainment and hospitality is force feeding thier guests until they explode. So, despite my protests, off they went into the -10 degree weather. What did they bring back for me? Sunflour seeds, small oranges, and ice cream.
Lao matou. A typical 'snack' like hot pot. You pick your own items from a buffet and they cook it up in a big vat of
oily broth.
The nearby town.
After several days in Helen’s village, Luke and Yuan Min had decided
that they should take us for a ‘night in the city’. I was having a good time in the village, but
they felt that there was nothing here to entertain me. The pair of them took a 2 hour bus to a nearby
city of about 30,000 people, they went early to do some shopping and prepare a
hotel for our visit. Helen and I
followed the next day.
When we arrived we discovered that, while they planned to stay with
a cousin, Luke had paid for a room at a nice Russian-style hotel.
I said, “Helen, no! We can’t let your brother pay for our hotel.” But she replied, “Ashlee this is Chinese
hospitality. When you have a visitor you
treat them.”
Despite my fervent protesting he went on to pay for dinner, taxis and
a night of KTV (Luke does a hilarious Mic Jagger impersonation FYI)
I told Helen that I felt like it was too much and she said if I
really wanted to pay them back I could by them a small wedding gift. I agreed and we walked over to a large store,
similar to Walmart, to select a gift.
Helen pointed to a set of his and her red long underwear and said, “You
could get them .
Helen: Yes, red is always very lucky for couples.
Me: Hmm.
Helen: This is not typical in America?
Me: Well, no I’d never think of getting a couple long underwear. It seems strange to give underwear to people
I don’t know very well.
Helen: What do you usually give?
Me: Usually something for the home like a picture frame. Or, you know, a toaster or a microwave.
Helen: (Raised eyebrows accompanied
by awkward moment of silence.)
Me: (Taking a set of kitchen
knives of the shelf.) How about these?
Helen: But what are they?
Me: You know, knives. Like for
cooking.
Helen: (More silence.)
Me: I could tell them some joke like, “I would only give 6 sharp knives
to a couple that I know really loves
each other.” But could you translate
that?
Helen: But…your gift would be…the knives?
Me: Yeah…..unless that would be weird for some reason.
Helen: No, I will tell them giving knives if your American tradition.
Me: It’s not really our tradition, I just thought it would be useful.
And it could be fun if we tell this joke along with it. But do you get why the
knife thing is funny? I could get them a set of matching thermoses or
something.
Helen: (Dumping the knives into our
shopping cart) Just get the knives.
I gave the gift to Luke and Yuan Min and they were politely
appreciative. Later Helen said to me,
“So in America when you visit…you have to pay for yourself?”
Me: Pretty much, we’d never expect our friends or family to pay for a
hotel or meals like this.
Helen has big dreams about travelling the world and I could see her
carefully processing this new information.
There were many times on this trip when I felt her mulling over our
cultural differences.
The big event while I was staying was Luke and Yuan Min's "marriage meeting". This is when Yuan Min's whole family comes over and has a very formal visit with Luke's family. At this time the family inpects the house to see if it's good enough for Yuan Min to live in, set the wedding date (it was set for one week from that day) and talk about what money and gifts will be exchanged bewteen the families. Yuan Min's family gave several thousand RMB and a horse.
I sat a big meal with both families where I was subjected to a lot of pressure-bai jiu drinking. Those Northerners sure can drink.
We'd hoped that I would be there for the actual wedding, but the timing didn't quite workout. However, Yuan Min sent me these pictures of their wedding day:
