The year 1931 was a sad year for China. It was the year that Japan invaded the north of our country and established a colony they called Manchuria. In the following year, Japan made Puyi, the last Emperor, the āChief Executiveā of the new state, and then they attacked Shanghai.1 I was born in that year on the 24th day of the last month of the Chinese calendar (January 1932) in the little village of Jināeāthe name means āgolden gooseā. I know that there is nothing special about Jināe. It is just one of the hundreds of thousands of villages throughout the countryside of China, but Jināe is my home.
Jināe is where my father and grandfather had lived, in the same house in which I have lived for much of my life. Perhaps it is with my father that my story should begin. Die, as I used to call my father, was born in the closing years of the Qin dynasty, which came to an end in 1912. His was a poor peasant family, and to make things worse, Die had a crippled hand. When he reached ten years of age his mother told him he had to leave the house as they couldnāt feed him any longer. His parents thought that with his crippled hand he would never be able to make money in the future and would always be a burden to the family. I was always shocked at how my grandma could have done this to her own son, but like most peasants, they were poor and often hungry. Die suddenly found himself homeless and having to make his own way in an uncertain world. Fortunately, some neighbours told him to go to the local landowner as they had heard he wanted a boy to take care of his cows. Die went to see him and was given the job. He lived in the stables with the animals, and although the conditions were hard, he did have somewhere to sleep and some food to eat.
Sometime later, a kind lady saw him and started talking to him. She was sad to hear his story, but was impressed at his endurance and his willingness to work hard. In one of their conversations, she told him that if he ever wanted to start a small stall she would lend him some money. He immediately saw the opportunity and with the money bought a few items to sell in his stall. At this time, soldiers would occasionally come to the area looking for recruits to fight. When they came to Die, he showed them his withered hand, so they could see he would be unable to hold a gun and left him alone.2
Through hard work, he began to make some money. In the meanwhile, his parents had slid further into debt and they decided to sell their house and leave the area. Die realized that he now had enough money to buy the house they had vacated. Later, the same lady introduced him to a young woman who came from a family that lived way up in the hills. Her family was wealthier than that of most peasants, and as a child, she had had her feet bound. Tiny feet were considered to be beautiful, and so most daughters of wealthy families had their feet bound. However, she was short and not good looking so she had not been married when younger. Die was pleased to find a woman who would marry him. In time, they had three children: first a boy, then a girl, and finally another boy. I was that girl, and the woman was, of course, my mother whom I called Mu.
Early Years
One of my earliest memoriesāI was about five years oldāis of Mu telling me when she was my age that her feet were tightly bandaged to stop them from growing. Some girls like my mother endured the dreadful pain in the hope that one day they would be able to marry a wealthy man. Muās feet were so bent that when she stood, she balanced on her heels and toes. I canāt remember her ever leaving the house or walking in the street. She missed so many wonderful things. You can imagine how I felt when she suggested I could have Lotus feet too. I refused, but Mu was not angry and did not persist. She said that if the Republican government had rejected the practice,3 why should she fight with me about binding my feet? Anyway, we were not a rich family with servants to do what we asked. We all needed to work hard to feed ourselves and do the housework.
Looking back over the years, I can see that my parents must have considered me to be a stubborn child wanting my own way. Perhaps that is why I am still alive today even though I am now over 85. I managed to survive the decades whilst many of my friends from my youth have died. I have been able to see my children get good jobs, and my grandchildren do well at school. Some are even studying at universities overseas. Oh, how the world has changed throughout these years!
My father worked hard throughout his life. He managed to rent some land from the local landlord, and through hard work, he harvested a good crop, but he had to give a considerable portion of it to the landlord as rent. This was the life of a peasant at that time! The on-going fighting with Japan meant that there was a shortage of food, so Die had to supplement the food he had grown with some trading. During the slack season for farming, he would take a load of beans and cured tobacco and carry them on his back over the hills to Yunnan Province in the south. The journey over the long narrow trails would sometimes take him a week. There he would sell the beans and tobacco, and buy salt and danshuiāused for making tofuāand carry these back home to sell. He carried as heavy a load as he could so as to make as much money for us as possible. Although my father was proud of his two sons, I knew that he was particularly fond of me, and so I would wait eagerly for his return looking up the path over the hill along which he would come.
Even though my family were only peasants, when my elder brother Qi was old enough he was sent to the little school in our village as was my younger brother. At that time, there were no government schools but only small private schools called SiShu, and the classes were held at the home of the teacher. The teacher taught my brothers how to read and write, as well as some of the ancient Chinese classical literature, and the proper ways of behaviour.
Parents would only send their sons unless the family was wealthy when they might also send their daughters or may even have a private tutor for them. There is an old Chinese proverb which says: āMarried daughter is like running water.ā In other words, daughters will eventually leave the family of their birth and become part of another family. I took it to be the normal custom that only boys studied, so I stayed and worked in the house whilst first my elder brother and then my younger brother Hui went to school. Qi was a good student, but Hui tended to be lazy and, to the annoyance of my parents, did not do well at school. I never had the chance to learn to read or write. I could see that a man should learn these things as he would have to work in the fields or even set up a small business. All a girl needed to do was clean the house, cook the food, care for the chickens, and give birth to sons. Every morning I watched my brothers go to school, and I spent the day working in the house until they returned. How I wished I could have gone with them. I thought to myself that when I had children of my own I would send both my sons and my daughters to school so that all my children could learn to read and write, do addition and subtraction.
Die hoped that one day I would marry a high-class young man and become a lady, but we all knew that this was no more than a foolish dream. Even though I wasnāt a high-class girl, I wasnāt often allowed to go out of the house on my own lest my reputation was spoiled. So, when I had to collect food for the pigs on the hillside, I had to go with a group of other girls. My world was little more than the village and the tree-lined hills around it.
You can therefore imagine my joy when father asked me to go with him to the county town to sell the products he had brought from Yunnan. I was so excited. The day before we went to market, I sorted out my best clothes and carefully cleaned them so I would look nice at the market. We had to leave home early even before it was light so as to get to the market before 8:30 a.m. in the winter and 8:00 a.m. in the summer, otherwise all the best places would be taken. Father would carry two heavy baskets on a pole across his shoulders, and I would carry a smaller load in a basket on my back. He always made me walk in front of him so he could look after me as we travelled. When we got there he knew where the best spots in the market were, and he would quickly set out his things to sell. As he talked to other traders and customers, I would gaze with wonder at all the strange sights. The first few times I went I felt very shy when the town children stared at me, and I would always make sure father was near. Customers would haggle with father, but he was clever and knew how to make a good bargain. I watched how he bargained with different types of people and later he would explain the particular response he had for each of them. At lunchtime, we ate steamed buns that Mu had cooked for us.
We always hoped that trade would be good so that we would not only make a profit but also have less to carry back home. If trade was brisk Die often bought me some sweets, and I always saved some for my brothers. I remember in the winter how the day darkened as we hurried home. Father kept a small torch in his pocket and he would pull this out to light the path as I walked ahead of him. It was always late when we arrived home. I was so tired after the long walk that I would often crawl into bed and fall fast asleep after eating the food Mu had prepared for us. I never complained because I enjoyed those days with Die when he showed me something of the world beyond our village.
Although my parents did not send me to school, they thought that I should learn a trade suitable for a woman, so my mother taught me how to make shoes. In those days, peasants could only afford sandals made from reeds that were skilfully platted and tied. I liked learning new things, so I quickly learned the secret of making good-quality reed shoes. Making them now meant that I could sell them in the market and so contribute a little to the family income.
At that time, one of the most valued skills was that of the potter. You would always know when he was coming into the village because he jingled metal strips to catch peopleās attention. In those days, most families only had one pot, which was used to cook food for both the family and the pigs. If the pot got broken, it was a disaster, so a person who was able to mend pots was in great demand. Another important skill the villagers valued was that of the veterinarian who would strike a gong to announce his coming. As a child, I never realized that my future life would be so linked to the sound of the gong and the arrival of two strangers in our village.
When I was still a little girl (1936), a woman with a boy of about 11 years of age came to Jināe from another county in the far north of the province. She was from a wealthy family; her father was a landlord and she had married the son of a landlord. She had two sons by him, but he became sick and after a long illness died. Her situation became desperate. She knew she had to remarry because she had bound feet and couldnāt work to take care of her children. As a widow with two children, it was difficult for her to find a husband in her home area, but a matchmaker told her that there was a suitable man in Jināe. She therefore started the long journey to the south of the Province, travelling by ox cart with her two children. At night, they stayed in simple lodgings along the way. One night she told the waiter at the lodgings of her desperate situation and asked him if he would like to have her two-year-old son. He thought this was a good idea. The next morning, she arose very early leaving her younger child asleep and continued her journey with only her older son.
The man she came to marry in Jināe was 28 years older than she was. After they married she had no more children, and her husband adopted her son. They changed her sonās name to the manās nameāCheng. Because Cheng had grown up in a wealthy family, he was educated. They lived in a house quite near where my family lived. Mu and Chengās mother spent a lot of time together as with bound feet it was difficult for them to walk far. My elder brother Qi was of a similar age to Cheng, so the boys would play together in their spare time, but being a girl I was not allowed to play with them. Nevertheless, I came to know a lot about Cheng from my brothers.
In 1942, when Cheng was 17 he was apprenticed to Quan, the local veterinarian who lived in the same village as my home. This was in part due to his relationship with Chengās step-father, but Cheng was also known to be a good conscientious worker. During his apprenticeship, he had to do housework for the vet such as carrying water and coal, and washing clothes. This meant that Cheng went to the vetās house early in the morning and returned home late at night. It was hard work, but he was determined to make the most of the opportunity. Cheng was an apprentice for three years, and then, out of respect for all he had learned from Quan, he continued to work for him for several years. It was the established practice that once an apprentice had completed all his obligations to his master, there would be a formal ceremony to release him from any further obligations. Somehow, this did not happen for Cheng. Then, in 1949, Chengās step-father died.
As Cheng continued to work for the vet, his position became increasingly difficult because Quan had two sons who had also been taught veterinarian skills. However, the local people recognized that Cheng was the more skilful and preferred him to Quanās sons. The two sons therefore disliked Cheng and often sought to make trouble for him, but Cheng continued to respect his master and members of his family. Since Cheng did not have any relative in the village he was seen as an outsider, and all he could do was to humbly do his work in the hope of building the respect and trust of the villagers.
One day, when I was about 14, a matchmaker came to tell my father about a young man who she said would be a good husband for me. In the countryside, many families liked to marry their daughters when they are young so as to get gifts from the boyās family, which they in turn could use when arranging the marriage of their sons. I still remember the embarrassment I felt when Die told me of the proposal. I was not used to being the centre of any discussion especially with a stranger. I stood still looking at my feet, frightened at what soon might happen. There was little that I could do if father agreed to the proposal. However, I knew father cared for me, and he would do the best for me and the family. So, I waited! After the matchmaker left, father went to the village where the young manās family lived and chatted with some of the local people. He wanted to find out about the family and especially about the character of the young man. He quickly discovered that the family did not have a good reputation and that the son was lazy, so he told the matchmaker that we were not interested in proceeding with the marriage proposal. I was relieved, but realized that more matchmakers would come.
Each time a matchmaker came, Die would find out about the boyās character and his familyās wealth and reputation. In the meanwhile, I imagined what it would be like to live in a house I had never seen with people I didnāt know and to sleep with a man who was a stranger to me. I knew that I would have no status in that family until I had given birth to a son. Eventually, a matchmaker came representing a man who my father thought could be a good husband for me so he commenced the marriage process. However, when about two-thirds of the way through the negotiations, he heard some bad things about the man and quickly ended them and returned all the gifts from the manās family. My dream was to marry a man who was skilful and could ensure our family had a stable income. I hoped that perhaps he would do business in the town and not just be a peasant farmer.
On 1 October 1949, Chairman Mao formally announced the establishment of the Peoplesā Republic of China (PRC) led by the Communist Party of China (CCP). There is a common saying in China: āThe Mountains are high and the Emperor is far away.ā Nevertheless, throughout history changes occurring in Chinaās capital cause waves that spread to every village and transform every family and every person. China was set to enter into a radical new age.
Under Chairman Mao, the government consolidated its popularity among the peasants through land reform, which aimed at allocating the land of rich landowners to poor peasants. Even in Jināe, some of the richer landowners were beaten, and their fields taken over by the authorities.4 The Party also sought to raise the status of women, to end foot-binding, child marriage, and opium addiction. I was pleased about these things, but confused when officials closed the temples and told us not to go and worship the Bodhisattva. The temples were part of our lives, and I did not know how we could live without them. When we have difficulties in our life, where could we go to now to ask for help? Nevertheless, we peasants continued to grow the crops, pay our taxes, and live our lives as best we could. Marriages were still arranged, children were born, people died, but changes were happening. I soon realized that as a young woman I had greater freedom than before especially with regard to whom I married. Although Cheng and I didnāt have any direct contact, I liked him and I thought that he would make a good husband.
Marriage
By 1950, my elder brother Qi was the manager of the local village cooperative. He and Cheng were good friends and he realized Cheng and I both liked each other. There was however a problem, which led my brother to speak with our father about this. You see, since Chengās step-father was dead Cheng had no family to help him, so it was difficult for him to make a proposal of marriage. Die didnāt approve of the match because Cheng was poor, and Mu said Chengās mother smoked opium. Then, that year, the Communist Party of China (CCP) introduced a new marriage l...