Last week was definitely one of the most interesting weeks of my life. Throughout the past seven days, I travelled to some of the most rural parts of South East China, about 130km from Guangzhou. The purpose of this trip was to check out my mother and father’s birth place, and to pay my respects to my ancestors. To say that the trip was a humbling experience is an understatement.
As we arrived to the village where my dad spent most of his younger years in China, both me and Amanda quickly learnt that life was extremely simple. For the couple hundred people that lived in the aging and shrinking village, variety was limited. Entertainment for these people consisted of: playing mahjong, chatting with neighbors during after supper – and for the kids, the having to come up with games with the limited resources they have. There was no access to television, or the internet. iPads and Playstations do not exist in this part of the world. People have become accustomed to having to be creative to enjoy life. Being someone from a large modern city, one would think that living here would be dreadful. Besides the lack of toilets and proper hygienic amenities, spending time in this village felt surprisingly comforting in an interesting way (besides the stomach infection, sleeping on the floor, and being bitten by countless mosquitoes). Gone was all the noise that surrounded my daily life back at home – something I definitely welcomed.
After spending the night in my father’s hometown, we took a bus about forty-five minutes north to stop by another village to visit my mother’s grandmother’s house. This was the place my mother spent most of her summers while she was a child, before she immigrated to Canada. My mother’s grandmother, who passed away almost a decade ago, lived alone. Her husband passed away about another decade before that. Entering the house gave me a very erie feeling. Everything behind was left very orderly and neat. Pots and pans were hung up with care, chairs where stacked and lined up thoughtfully, and even the clothes in the wardrobe were still neatly packed away. My great grandmother must have been a very organized woman, very much like my mother. We were all very intrigued by some of the artifacts that were left behind. We ended up bringing home a brass pot that was believed to be used by five generations before us. We also grabbed an dusty old abacus believed to be used by my great grandmother when she was a child. With the house locked up and untouched for the last ten years, everything pretty much was supposedly left how it was like since my great grandmother was still alive, with an exception of a heavy coating of dust blanketing everything we encountered. Through the stories my mother would tell me vivid stories about her summers spent living with her grandparents, I had already built up a mental image of how this place would be like. To my surprise, my imagination was not far off. Everything seemed foreign yet very familiar. Visiting this place felt like reconnecting with a very old friend.
All in all, the experience was definitely worth the long plane ride and countless hours of riding trains/busses. Being able to finally see where my parents came from really gave me new perspective in life. Having proper roads, clean water, and a proper toilet to do my business is such a blessing! I really must thank my parents for having the courage to take the risk of immigrating to Canada. Who knows how my life would have turned out if they never did come to Vancouver. This trip, though not the a vacation I would call relaxing, definitely made me feel more fortunate of everything I have in life.
