We finally decided that staying with anyone and doing some WWOOFing (in case
you are not familiar with WWOOFing, it is a worldwide organization that allows
travelers to go and stay on farms for free, where, in return, the travelers
help work on the farm) was probably our best bet for the holiday, so Steve sent
out emails trying to contact as many wwoofers near Shanghai as possible. Two
wrote back. We decided on the first person who contacted us and made plans to
meet up. We were to meet his brother (who supposedly did not speak any English,
only Chinese and Japanese) at his apartment at 6am on Sunday.
We wearily drug ourselves out of bed at 4:30 and
made our way out to the street to get a taxi. After 10 mins of waiting, we were
whisked away on what was said to be a 30 min trip. It only took just over 10.
We arrived at our designated location at 5:40am and waited. And waited. And
waited. We finally showed someone the address we had on our little piece of
paper to confirm we really were in the correct location. He nodded that we
were, but we just needed to go down a few buildings from where we had been
standing. We did and found it with no trouble.
We were welcomed in by a friendly man, Li Bo, and
quickly offered a seat and something to drink. We were informed that we were
waiting for the last person in our party, that she’d be there soon and we’d be
on our way. An hour after we
arrived at the apartment complex, we were a complete party of five (Li Bo, his
daughter Li Ling, ourselves, and J), and were on our way.
What was to be a three our drive turned into a 5
hour journey due to traffic, pit stops, and the alarmingly slow rate of
velocity with which we traveled 96% of the time (despite our vehicle never leaving
the fast lane for more than a few moments at a time). But our company was kind and there was
no smoking in the car. We arrived at the small village, parked, and walked
around for a bit.
Everyone in the village knows everyone else (needless
to say, we stood out) so it’s not uncommon for people to just wander into other
people’s courtyards and homes, just to take a peak around or to say hello. So
that’s exactly what we did. We walked down narrow streets and side alleys and
peered into courtyards and sitting areas. We saw people at work repairing old
structures, building new ones, and a man weaving a basket from bamboo.
“Everyone wants new,” we were informed. Rather than
repairing, most people just tear it down and build one of the new, shiny
buildings. Though beautiful in their own way, these new buildings overshadow
the authenticity of the antique structures, replacing character and history. I
truly felt my heart sink at the sight of out
with the old, in with the new.
To couple this mentality, we were also told that “no
young men in the village. They all go off to city to make the money.” So it was
then no surprise that everyone we encountered, at work or at rest, was much
older than us. Many of these people are more suitable for village life. They cannot
read or write; only work. TV’s, cell phones, and subways are overwhelming and
confusing. The slow, steady life of the village is comfortable, and is home.
And now, here we are, smack dab in the middle of
this family’s home for the holidays. It is mid-autumn festival followed
directly by Chinese Independence Day (yes, I realize the oxymoron there), and
this family of four, plus two friends, plus countless neighbors, have invited
us in to share this time with them. How truly fortunate we feel as we put our
bags in our new room and take in exactly where we are. Nestled in a little old
village amongst mountains covered in bamboo trees, we are happy to have found a
place such as this to spend the holidays.
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