Chapter 5: Another Long Post

First off, I’d like to apologize; this post has been long overdue. I could give reasons for my absence, but that would be an even bigger waste of time. Basically, I forgot to write... but that’s only because I’ve been busy with other studying lately. In this chapter I’ll be catching you up on some of the things I’ve done over the past few months, and hopefully follow it up with some pictures. My English is also getting a little rusty so if there are any mistakes, please just bear with me...

Chapter 5: Another Long Post

Since I’ve arrived in Hǎikǒu, time has moved incredibly fast... too fast, in fact. I remember when the other exchange students and I hit the three-month mark, meaning we still had seven months left of our exchange, and I exclaimed “We’re leaving so soon!” They all laughed then; but now that we’re over seven months in with less than two months remaining, the fact that it feels like only a week has gone by since I said that really makes it seem not-so ridiculous anymore. Looking back, it’s amazing the things I’ve been able to do and see and experience in that “week,” and even thought there are things I miss about home—my friends, my family, pretzels— I know that only a week after returning to Minnesota I will be aching to come back to China.

About two months ago, right at the start of winter break, I switched host families. It wasn’t because of anything bad, just that they no longer had the time to support me. In fact, originally they were only a “temporary” host family that I would stay with until February, so there were no hard feelings when they said I’d have to move. My new host family is actually the family of my classmate, which means my new host brother and I are the same age. At home there are usually just four of us: me, my host father, my host mother, and her mother. Meanwhile, my host brother stays in the dorms at his school (every school has dorms here) on weekdays, and then comes home on weekends. The house, once again, is beautiful: top floor (17th and 18th), a garden, beautiful Chinese-style wood-carved furniture, Chinese wood-carvings and paintings along the walls, etc. It was funny, the first week I moved in my host father would ask me all the time in a large, bellowing voice, “漂亮啵!” (“It’s beautiful, right?”) And I would always reply “yes, very beautiful!” Meanwhile, my host mother and grandmother would be laughing nearby as it would be maybe the third or fourth time that day he’d asked me that question. It’s also funny because my host father is Hainanese, and he speaks with a Hainanese accent (which can be difficult to understand) so all his questions end in “啵bo” and the way he says “吃饭chī fàn” (“to eat”) sounds like he’s saying “稀饭xī fàn” (“rice porridge”). My host mother, on the other hand, is Sichuanese, and so is my host grandmother, so when they speak Mandarin their ‘shi’s and ‘si’s get mixed up, as well as their ‘n’s and ‘l’s, and words that end in ‘e’ turn into ‘o’s; so when my host grandmother speaks all of her ‘n’s turn into ‘l’s (ex. “that”=“那个nà gè”—> “辣勾là gòu”) and when my host mother speaks all her ‘l’s turn into ‘n’s (ex. “happy”=“快乐kuài lè”—>“快讷kuài nè”). I’d say that despite their different accents and different style of cooking, adapting to life in their home was easy, and I feel quite close and comfortable with them.

A month-and-half ago, I had the pleasure of celebrating Chinese New Year with them. Since my host father is from Hǎinán, we were able to celebrate in his hometown, a small farm town only about a 5-minute drive away from their house. According to my liaison (who has since moved away to Yunnan Province) Chinese New Year is the most exciting in small farm villages like my host father’s, so I was excited to experience my first Spring Festival in such a classic environment. 春节 chūn jié, Spring Festival, lasts for about a month, with different customs and festivities each day that vary throughout China (although Hǎinán doesn’t have many of these). 

At the beginning of winter break, about two weeks before the new year, my family and I went out to the store to buy 年货 nián huò, snacks and decorations to stock up the house with for the holiday. We bought cases of Ferrero Rocher, a large tin of Danisa butter cookies (two things that seem to be much more popular in China for some reason); we stocked up on all kinds of seeds and nuts to snack on (my host mother loves sunflower seeds), and 大白兔 dà bái tù White Rabbit milk candies; we also bought Chinese-style red cutouts to paste onto the doors and windows; my host mother even bought me peanut butter!

The following two weeks were spent relaxing, but then came 除夕 chú xī, New Year’s Eve, and that's when the festivities began. On 除夕 I got to visit my host father’s “老家lǎo jiā,” “hometown,” for the first time. 北侃村 běi kān cūn (Běikān village) is a tiny clump of houses built on a dirt platform that rises out of damp, patchy fields of various kinds of vegetation. The houses were built recently: modest, cement, two-to-three-stories, box-shaped, the outside plated with some sort of lightly-colored tile, the inside with white walls, and a large space on the first floor for family gatherings.

In the middle of the village were the older houses: very small, three rooms (one in the middle, two on the sides); dark gray cement walls, inside and outside; a thin triangular roof; and a tiny loft in the middle room that functions as an altar. I figured these houses must be quite old, at least around a hundred years considering how they were built and the condition they were in; however, when my host mother said to me, “This house very old, it was built back in the 1970s”... I knew that I was way off.

To sum up most of the activities that took place there over the following week: we ate chicken. Lots and lots of chicken! “Jia mouy leh!” (“Time to eat!”) As they would say in Hainanese, and every time, without fail there would be chicken. Hainan-style prepared chicken, 白切鸡 bái qiè jī. I’m not sure how exactly they make it, but it’s very white (the skin yellowish), has a bit of blood around the bones, and is VERY tough. Hainanese people like tough meat. They also don’t really add much flavor or seasoning to their meat, preferring a light, natural flavor instead (but if you dip 白切鸡 bái qiè jī in soy sauce I swear it is actually quite good). Aside from chicken we ate fish my host grandfather fished out of the village pond, and drank a lot of coconut milk. Every day we went back to the village for a meal, and every single time there would be chicken.

除夕 chú xī New Year’s Eve, however, is particularly important. While I didn’t actually hear about this legend in Hǎinán at all, I remember my very first Chinese teacher telling me about a monster named the “年 nián” (the “Year”) that comes out from the mountains every 除夕 chú xī to terrorize the people celebrating down below. So what do the people do? They set of firecrackers and light fireworks to scare away this horrible monster. In Hǎinán I never actually heard this myth, and I’m not sure if everyone even knew about it. Nevertheless, firecrackers were continuously being lit all over to village. Inside my father’s childhood home, there was a shrine to the ancestors, with two whole cooked chickens and a number glasses of 白酒 bái jiǔ, Chinese white wine, placed as offerings. First, we 拜公 bài gōng, presented the offerings. This involved placing a woven mat on the ground in front of the altar, then standing behind it, facing away from the altar and out the front door. Then, you put your hands together in prayer form, dip them forward three times, then prostrate, dipping your torso towards the ground three times. When you stand back up, you go around the mat (not stepping on it) to face the other way towards the altar, and you repeat the process three more times, finishing with your hands in prayer form once again. 

We did 拜公 bài gōng first at the ancestral home, and then my host grandmother took some paper, lit it with a candle from the altar, and let it burn in a pot on the floor. She took the 白酒 bái jiǔ also sitting in front of the altar, and poured it in a circle around the pot. Lastly, the firecrackers. These things are LOUD. You do not know what “loud” means until you spend Spring Festival in a Chinese village; the firecrackers, fireworks, music, and just all the things that are ear-bustingly loud are constant and everywhere. However, nothing is louder than the firecrackers. That’s not even the scary part! The thing is they’re not only loud, but also incredibly dangerous. I remember the firecrackers my family lit after 拜公 bài gōng were also the first ones I saw up close, and I watched from about a mere eight feet away... the shock from the noise was one thing, but when I felt pieces of debris shooting onto my chest and shoulders I knew that standing right next to them was probably not the best idea... (I mean, only if I wanted to keep my eyes). 

Afterwards we took the offerings (the chickens) to the 城隍庙 chéng huáng miào, the village temple, to present them to the 城隍 chéng huáng, the village god of Taoist legend. There we repeated the 拜公 bài gōng alongside other families of the village. Firecrackers were set off again once everyone was done, and then we continued on to another small shrine along one of the streets. Again we placed the offerings, lit some candles and incense, burned some paper, and lit a small box of firecrackers. 

That night, my host mother, brother, and grandmother went home, while I stayed at the village with my host father. There we waited until midnight to set off more fireworks and firecrackers. In the meantime, my host father went to another house to drink tea and sing KTV with his friends, while I opted to stay at the family’s house and watch 春晚 chūn wǎn: a nation-wide live program of dancing, singing, and dramatic performance that is watched by almost every Chinese household to reign in the New Year. Generally speaking, the show is more appreciated by the older generations, as most young people consider it to be a bit sappy (which I understand); however, I still watched, and even though I couldn’t understand much of it I still found it interesting. Up until this point, I still wasn’t exactly feeling the excitement of Spring Festival that everyone said there would be. Then, as it was just approaching midnight, and all the fireworks and firecrackers were being hung and lit on all sides at the same time, I finally understood what everyone was talking about. Like I said, you do not know what “loud” means until you celebrate Spring Festival in a Chinese village...

The following week was pretty similar: go to the hometown, eat chicken, set off firecrackers. However, on 初六 chū liù, the sixth day of the new year, we participated in a special custom unique to Hǎinán，公期 gōng qī (when spoken pronounced gōng qǐ). On this day, the entire village does 拜公 bài gōng once again; but instead of everyone going to the temple to pray to the idols, the idols come to each house to be prayed to. What they do is they put each statue (there are two) on a mini sedan chair, and banging a gong, parade them around the village. While at this point you might be picturing something big and exciting, it’s actually more of a modest march with a simple, round piece of metal used as a gong. 

They are then taken inside someone’s home (usually their ancestral home if they still have it) and set the statues on the altar. Candles, incense, woven mat, 拜公 bài gōng, it’s all pretty much the same, except for one important difference: this time it’s accompanied by music. A group of 8 musicians would walk alongside the statues as they go from house to house. Once everything was prepared, they would start playing 二胡 èr hú, 唢呐 suǒ nà, 三弦 sān xiàn, 锣鼓 luó gǔ... all kinds of Classical Chinese instruments. I’m not entirely sure if what they were playing were actual songs or if it was all improvised, because once they started, they would play continuously for 30 minutes to an hour! Even after everyone else had finished 拜公 bài gōng and left the old house to carry on with other things, they would still play for at least another 15 minutes! When they did finish, and were ready to move on to the next house, everybody returned to pass under each of the statues on their way out (the significance of which I do not entirely understand). The firecrackers were hung and lit, and the parade continued on. I believe this was the highlight of my Spring Festival experience. I can’t describe it well at the moment (I can finally say I’m losing some of my grasp on English), but it was beautiful. 

I could get into more detail but I feel like this is already long enough, and so I’ll try to post more pictures afterwards. All I can say right now is that I’m so incredibly grateful for the experience I’ve had; not only during Spring Festival, but for everything I’ve been able to do and see in China. This year has been unforgettable, and has made me realize how incredibly privileged I am. I really have been doing my best to make the most of this experience, even though at times it can be easy to forget, and at other times even easier to give up on... but I hope that I will be able to come back from this experience with no regrets.