The road to Popo's village was windy and long enough for me to think "holy crap, Gunggung walked this far to see Popo?" The old man showed us almost directly to the village and when we got there, we seemed to beeline it straight to the house. The yard was walled unlike Gunggung's which posed a problem since the gate was padlocked. The wall was low enough for me to jump over, but that wouldn't have helped much with opening the door. One of the old people that came out of the village tried helping with the lock by hammering on it but ended up having to hacksaw it open.
The windows and shutters were clad in iron like Gunggung's. One of the windows had one of its bars removed by chiseling at the foundation around it, apparently as a way to break into the place. The door was open but despite the breakin, there was still a lot of stuff inside. The place had been vacant for quite a while but had been inhabited within the last 20-odd years from the phone and television antenna inside. The insides were dark and I didn't see any signs of electricity tho.
While the village was indeed a step backwards in time, I'm sure that people here weren't strangers to electricity or other modernities of life. I could hear right next door that someone was living there from the sound of barking puppies in their courtyard. Even on the way out of the village when Popo had her fill of revisiting her past, and we ours, I took some pics of some kids in the village. My dad of course made them balloons and they were no strangers to digital cameras with their oh-so-fobby peace signs.
This place is where my grandparents grew up and where my mother was born, and here is another generation that is going to grow up among what China has deemed ancient artifacts. And here is where this generation may very well move away like my grandparents did 51 years ago, and have to revisit it when they're old and grey only to find another generation to repeat their footsteps.
On the way back from Kaipeng, I was talking with our tourguide, Monique. At 24, she's pretty young and was born in the Guangdong province as well. Apparently just as in America, Chinese parents still put a lot of pressure on their kids to fit their mold of what they think they should be. For Monique, it was being a doctor, office worker, and some other professions that don't require her to move around very much. Being a tourguide is hardly that, and needless to say her family wasn't too pleased but are supportive now. She's very outgoing and we got talking about meeting new people and practicing english. She told me about this British(i think) professor whom she met and asked him of all places why did he decide to come to travel so much and come to China.
He said something along the lines of "Born in village. Grow up in village. Marry in village. Die in village."
For many people in China, this is the literal truth of their lives. For many Americans, this is horrible. Living so small is not the American way. But really, are we so different? I've lived in southern California my whole life and until this trip, I had never set foot on another continent. However, I think that this statement is more about not being closed minded and experiencing things beyond your realm of comfort and familiarity. Be dangerous. Explore.
I'm glad my grandparents did.
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