Day 1 - Let the Search Begin 5/7/2011 Saturday

This morning at 7:30 AM we finally started our long awaited bus trip to Xingning (興寧), mainland China. The ancestral village of my grandfather. I was traveling with my sister Amy and we also invited my nephew Chi Keung (living in HK) along for the trip. The bus ride took 6 hours but within that time period we seemed to be traveling back in time for 60 years. We left the most modernized concrete jungle of Hong Kong and gradually moving into rural villages of China. On our way, we seen rice and vegetable fields, water buffalos lazily bathing in the streams, rolling green hills, the famous Pearl river, peoples in motor scooters (sometimes the whole family in one scooter). There seemed to be no traffic rules in small cities we passed though. Everyone just turned and passed at their own free will (pedestrians included) in all directions but some how they all managed to get along and no accidents were witnessed although I swore there should be at least several fatalities if the same situations occurred in the U.S.

Xingning (興寧), a county-level city, under the jurisdiction of Meizhou (梅州) Guangdong province (廣東省) is the second largest city in east Guangdong, with an area of 2105 sq. km.; and a population of 1.13 million. The city governs 29 towns/townships containing 475 villages. (Wikipedia)

We arrived there at 1 PM and my cousin Tao Tim (陳道添), whom I have never met, was already awaited for us at the bus terminal. After the emotional hugs and rapid firing of the Xingning dialect between Amy and my cousin. We managed to stuff all our luggages and 5 people plus the taxi driver into this small cab. Never mind, I had to share the same front seat with another relative whom I still needed to ascertain our long line of relationship. This man, few years younger than I am was a farmer all his life (I can feel his muscle) whom my cousin Tao Tim brought along to help as porter, was almost sitting on my lap when he climbed into the cab. But he assured me it will be only a short ride. The ride was about several kilometers but had to wind through some rice fields and small narrow dirt road. The last few blocks before arriving to my cousin's house was this narrow bridge spanning over this fish pond which even this well-adapted-to-China-traffic driver had to hesitate about the crossing but with my cousin's urging and coaching, we somehow managed to squeezed through and arrived safely with inches to spare at least on my side of the cab. We could had been fish food if the spirit of my ancestors were not looking after us at the precise moment. We got off the sardine-can-like cab and started to breath in the fresh country air and my sore and hoarse throat was instantly better.

After arriving at my cousin's house (as least that I was thought), which was a 3 stories brick and concrete duplex like structure with a front garden enclosed by a flimsy iron gate. I can see all sorts of green vegetable growing in the garden. The duplex building was identical on both side and each had a front door leading to a sitting area. Each door had a set of red posters with Chinese writing on it. These were the remnants from the Chinese New Year some three months ago. My cousin made his own posters to pen in some good wishes for the family. A traditional practice that traced back thousands of years. I tried to take a picture of it but a scores of people were already pouring out from each door to greet us. There were an elderly woman (my cousin's wife), three women in there late thirties to mid forties (my cousin's three daughter-in-laws), a middle age man (my cousin's younger son), three girls and three boys from age 5 to age 17 (my cousin's grandkids). They were all quite shy but were very curious to see their relatives came all the way from America.

After a brief introduction we were led to sit in the front room and tea were pouring out non-stop from this little clay tea pot. Amy, Chi Keung and I already have our own tea mug with our name on it. The rest of the adults were all drinking from the little sipping cups.(There were only 5 of them) Each adult were taking turn to refill the clay teapot from the two hot water thermos sitting next to the coffee (tea) table. I tried to involve in the conversation and absorb the new environment all at the same time studying each person and tried to make heads and tails on how they were all related. I gave up when more people (relatives) arriving in the room from nearby houses and little plastic cups (the kinds we used at In-and-Out burgers to get ketchup) were given to the newcomers for tea. I was more amazed on how that one little teapot can accommodate so many people. But the credit had to go to the person that pour the tea. He or she seemed to know exactly how much tea to pour onto each cup when making the round as we all got about an equal allotment from each time when tea was poured.

After about 15 rounds of tea sipping (which seemed like eternity), lunch was announced to be served at a round table nearby. I failed to see how the table were set. As it seemed to appeared out of nowhere with 4 pipping hot dishes and a big earthen pot in the middle. They were all local dishes of Hakka origin, They were stuffed tofu, braised pork with skin, stir fried green from the garden, meat ball with melon soup, I discovered for the next two hours that earthen pot in the middle were chicken cooked in home made sweet rice wine which my cousin and his son made sure I have plenty to sample.

We finished lunch at around 2:30 PM plus more rounds of tea, my cousin then took me for a short walk to the center of the village where the ancestral 围屋 (surrounded houses) were located. We winded through some narrow paths between some modern and some real old structures intermingled with vegetable plots, small rice paddies and fish ponds. There seems to be ditches on each side of the foot path with open running water streamed down rapidly. I saw a man dressed in long overall with a contraption (seen right out of Ghost Busters - the movie) on his back. He stood next to one of the ditch and started poking two metal rods into the water. I thought he was some sort of scientist testing the water quality but I was soon told he was fishing with an electric prods. I saw him netted a small stunned fish as we walked by. Hope the humane society doesn't get hold of this story.

We arrived at the ancestral home in about 5 minutes. It was a long single level typical looking Chinese building with slanted earthen brick roof and eaves. The center of the building was the ceremonial hall for worshiping and remembrance of ancestors. It was facing south. In front of it was a large fish pond. On either side of the hall (east and west) were two entrances and there were small houses all connected side by side forming a semicircle. I was told it could house up to 200 hundred people in this ancestral home. Now there were only a few families living in it and most of the houses were abandoned and used to raise chickens. It all pretty run down and rather filthy. Need to study more about this ancient building.

We walked back through the narrow path and came to this old two story building and my cousin Tao Tim took out a key and opened the door and let us in. I finally realized it was his house where he and his wife and the youngest son and his family lived. At his house, Tao Tim presented me with a gift, a welcoming poem he wrote in classic Chinese calligraphy to commemorate my visit. It basically says we are both tied by blood despite the great distance apart.

The house Amy and I and Chi Keung staying was the house belong to his two older sons whom were working out-of-town and they only come home on occasion. They worked hard and saved big so they can built this house 5 years ago. The two wives were in charge of raising the kids and maintaining the household. I also found out they just recently completed the 2nd and 3rd story in preparation of our visit. These relatives of mine were poor by our standard and the house was scarcely furnished. But they had rolled-out the red carpet for us. There was no refrigeration and cooking were done by propane and coal bricks. Water were all pipe in by PVC pipes. But the 2nd story had a sit-down toilet (thank god) but no washing basin.

There was a small gas-fired on-demand water heater for bathing. They had no floor mats at the entrance ways and stair case. Humidity was quite high and we were into the rainy season with frequent downpour. For floor mats they put old clothing down to wipe your feet when entering the house or climbing the stairs. I now know what part of the house I was in just by seeing the different garment as I stepped on it. A red long gym pants greeted the front door. A pair of an old blue jean at the lower stair case. A small green t-shirt laid at the landing between the first and ground floor. A black jacket guarded the bathing room....etc.

All three stories of the house each had 3 bed rooms, a toilet and the lower floor also house the kitchen and a shower with a squat style toilet. They actually feel quite well-off and the conversation always eluded back to how hard things were in the no too distance past.

We were served dinner at 6 PM sharp with more rice wine and delicious steaming hot Hakka dishes. The three daughter-in-laws under the command of Tao Tim's wives cooked and served us food in swift efficiency and all three got on really well and communicated in rapid, loud and high pitch Xingning Hakka dialect. It was a pretty hard life especially for the two older daughter-in-laws as I have yet to find out how they cope with their lives in long absence from their husbands.