Guizhou Trip - Zhaoxing Dong Village

1 Biological clock, a magical existence. Even if I turn off the alarm clock on my phone, I still wake up at 6:20 in the morning. Outside the window. A few birds are chatting. Crisp, with a hint of joy. Sunlight filters through the gaps in the curtains, scattering tiny light waves. Opening my eyes, my mind is a bit dazed. It feels like I'm still at home. Standing on the terrace of the inn. The whole village is shrouded in the morning mist, as quiet as a painting. Every morning in the Dong village surprises me. The light green of the first morning quietly deepens on the second morning. Looking closely. Looking from afar. The clarity and tranquility reflected in my eyes are never enough. There are not many people on the main road of the village. The Dong people here, and the travelers who come here, are all very laid-back. They mainly wake up naturally. They slow down time. After breakfast, I ordered two cups of American coffee, nestled on the sofa on the terrace, watching the sun gradually rise, watching the village gradually come to life, and I felt, this is good, just quietly watching the world, this is good. 2 I love watching people. I love watching architecture. I love watching handmade crafts. I also love watching crops. My sister and I strolled through the small market here. The small market is very rich. Bracken. Houttuynia. Leeks. Bamboo shoots. Small ginger. Rapeseed shoots. Small green onions. Beef. Pork. Rice field fish. Loaches. Snails... I asked the price of a small bundle of leeks, and the old lady stretched out one finger - one yuan per bundle. Suddenly, it felt so cheap that it made me feel sad. The people here are very simple. So simple that they don't lie. Occasionally, when they lie, they themselves would smile shyly, unable to hide their embarrassment. I felt that their hearts, their lives, are so clean. There are many stalls by the roadside. Some are guarded by grandpas. Some are guarded by grandmas. There are also young people guarding them. Things are not expensive. But they are not exorbitantly priced either. Their handmade items are sold for their time, their tired eyes, their busy hands, and we buy the simplicity, the seriousness, and the respect and recognition in our hearts. I have also designed handmade crafts tirelessly. Being recognized actually far surpasses the joy of earning money. I carefully selected the 'Shu Sha Embroidery' made by a Dong grandma herself. Stitch by stitch along the texture of the cloth, the grandma cannot complete it in less than half a year. Because I understand, I didn't haggle much. Because my grandma is also a famous clothes maker among the Miao people in Guizhou, I don't know why, I just don't want the 'embroidery' of grandmas like her to be underestimated. Maybe, my sister and I are the only two people in the past two days who are willing to seriously buy their 'embroidery' in front of the grandma's stall. I met a grandpa selling bamboo products. He spoke slowly. His Mandarin was not very fluent. The grandpa's bamboo products are handmade bit by bit. People who live off the mountains don't have any special skills to make a living. What they can show are the bamboo they grow in the mountains, split one by one, shaved and polished, using the most primitive weaving methods to weave the bamboo strips into baskets, into containers, into daily necessities. What they sell is just a little bit of silver. My granduncle in the deep mountains of Guizhou is a master of weaving baskets. He weaves some every day and sells them at the market on market days. The fruits of such labor sometimes don't even sell for a hundred in a day. Writing this, my eyes suddenly fill with tears. I bought a few bamboo wine ladles from the grandpa, a small rabbit and a small ant 🐜 made by the grandpa himself. Not complicated handmade crafts. But, lively. At a glance, I can't let go. 3 Sitting on a bench in the drum tower. I asked the grandma next to me when the Dong opera would be performed on the stage opposite. The grandma's smile was very simple, with a hint of shyness. She told me that the Dong opera is only performed during the New Year, that is the most lively time, when some young people who work outside come back. Resting on a bench on the flower bridge. Looking at the mortise and tenon structure on the top of the flower bridge, crisscrossing, with some wormholes in the mottled parts. Watching the ducks playing in the muddy stream, occasionally 'quacking'. The grandpa with a face full of wrinkles opposite asked us where we were from. We said - Henan. The grandpa said - Oh, that's a far place, welcome to play here. There is a mountain spring water well next to the drum tower. There are containers for fetching and drinking water. You can drink for free. That is real mountain spring water. Clear. Gurgling. The spring water is very cool. It has a slight sweetness in the aftertaste. Very good to drink. Here, it really isn't that good. But, it really makes me reluctant to leave. Reluctant.