Starlight

There is a Chinese story, I have been told, which goes something like this:

Once, there lived a rich father and his son. They had many amenities and precious items, and their household was full of splendor. Additionally, the father had made enough money through his work in the city to purchase some modern items for living comfort, such as electric heaters, a refrigerator, and light bulbs. As the son matured into a young man, the father took it upon himself to teach his son an important life lesson.

On the son’s birthday, of which family relatives had bestowed many expensive gifts, the father took hold of his son and walked him around the house. Pointing to the many things the family owned, as well as indicating the amount of space each room they owned had, the father emphasized that their family was a wealthy one and this wealth is what brought about their happiness. Although the boy nodded in agreement, the father still feared that his son failed to understand his message.

Thinking for a whole day and night, the father reached an ultimatum: he would send his son to the poorest part of the country for a year’s time. This way, he believed, he could be certain that his son would know just how important money and valuables are to one’s livelihood. Summoning his son, he made him pack his bags. As the son left his home behind, the father smiled and bade him goodbye.

A year’s time had just passed when the son once again entered the courtyard of his childhood home. The father, having waited impatiently and nervously, rushed up to his son and asked what he had learned in his year in the countryside. The son looked him in the eyes and said with a profound degree of seriousness: “Father, you once told me that it is our wealth which brought about happiness. My time in the poorest of places has shown that not to be true. We may have heaters in our house, but there they have each other for warmth. We may have a refrigerator, but there they eat only the freshest of foods—cut and portioned each day early in the morning. And, we may have a light above our heads, but there they have the entire night sky and the starlight of hundreds of thousands of stars.”

 

Getting around

Dear reader,

There are no streets here with names. If you know what you are looking for, all you need to do is ask somebody. Receiving directions is casual and simple: a wave in the direction your feet are pointing means keep going, you’re on the right track. A wave in the other direction means you must have passed it already and didn’t see it. Or, that the place is closed and you ought to try again some other time. In any case, losing one’s way would be less than tragic—the main road is visible from almost all locations.

Getting around is not so difficult. Instead of compacted into a grid-based neighborhood that America’s small towns often adopt, Dachaoshan’s shops and residences are stretched along the road, following its slow bend. The area has one middle school, which is not very far from the elementary school, a government office building, one restaurant, one gas station, and three motorbike shops. There is no super market. Instead, pockets of tiny general supplies shops can be found on every corner. And although the town is three hours from any major city, connections to nearby villages and towns can nevertheless be found. A dusty, sun-bleached billboard marks a bus stop for short-distant travels. Five China Mobile cellphone outlet shops are dispersed throughout the area. Excluding the various farmers’ huts on the outskirts, one could walk from one end of town to the other in about an hour.

There is thus little reason for residents to own bicycles or initiate a local bus system. Instead, motorbikes and cars, to those who can afford the steep costs, are the vehicles of choice. For those who cannot pay the gas and repair bills, going places is not a big deal. More than likely, one lives above the place one works or, if not, is a short walking distance away. Hitching a ride from someone who does have a car for a couple kuai is not uncommon, either.  Here, locals become still bystanders to the trucks, motorbikes, and cars that speed by. Moving quickly and efficiently is not really a necessary thing because everything is already within reach.

~fran