Article 1: Zhuang March 3
The annual March 3 is here. March 3 is a traditional grand festival of our Zhuang people. On this day, every family will kill chickens and slaughter sheep, steam glutinous rice and boil colored eggs.
On the morning of March 3, just before dawn, my mother had already steamed the colorful glutinous rice into a large round pot, steaming like a flower plate with flowers competing. I ate a few mouthfuls of glutinous rice, and then came to my mother to help her choose eggs to cook. Mom said, "When boiling the eggs, the fire should not be too high, so as not to crack the eggs in the pot. When the water boils, you turn the eggs up and down with chopsticks on the side, so that they are subjected to even heat, and the eggs will be safe and sound in the pot." Mom finished and went off to do something else. I cooked the eggs as my mother told me and painted them in colorful colors, and put them in a bamboo basket like a basket of colorful shells.
You know, the egg-contacting contest is the greatest joy for children on March 3," he said. My sister and I picked up a few big, pointy colored eggs and ran toward the entrance of the village, looking for our partners to start the egg-touching battle.
People from the village also came to the village entrance. Some of us put the eggs in our pockets, walking slowly, for fear that the eggs in the pockets "fight"; some put the eggs into the woolen mesh bag, hanging to the chest; some of the two hands each holding an egg, running in a hurry. Touch the egg began, the village entrance suddenly lively, the small friends of this group of that a group of people surrounded by touching the egg than the high and low. "Pah!" An egg was broken, the crowd erupted into a burst of laughter. My sister and I took four eggs, four duck eggs, and the small partners touched up, the result of three winners and five losers, we touched the broken eggs one by one peeled and ate. The little ones were peeling the eggs too, and the group looked at me, I looked at you, and then wiped their hands covered in all kinds of colors and laughed as they smeared the eggs on their mouths.
When we got home, we saw that mom was putting bowls and plates of steaming fish, meat and vegetables on the table. At this time, the father smilingly carried a few bottles of good wine, with invited relatives and friends to drink. The people at the table ate and drank happily, and the sound of laughter echoed in the house.
The second part: the Zhuang March 3
March 3, the festival of the Zhuang people, Wuming should be the most lively. Thousands of people bamboo dance, thousands of people martial arts, thousands of people square dance. The first is a bullfighting. Outside the window, the sky is still hazy, the sky wrapped in this layer of thin silk coat, the sky outside recalled a sound of crisp to the amount of chicken song, breaking the quiet of the Wuming, to meet the beginning of the March 3, the monumental sleep has not yet awakened, will ring to meet the passion for the March 3, the...
Ten years later, the Wuming people are still in a state of shock.
Ten o'clock or so, the sky touched a trace of colorful clouds, we with a happy mood, leisurely to the main venue, into the eyes of the bustling streets, bustling stalls and vendors, a glance, a sea of people, everyone is wearing their own exclusive clothes, colorful, colorful, forming a colorful world, as if the rainbow of colors. Men and women, old and young, all kinds of people, crowded the whole street. A gust of wind blew, different aromas came to the nose, gently close your eyes, the mind floats a picture of food, there are grilled lamb kebabs, grilled squid, grilled chicken, stinky tofu. All kinds of all kinds of all kinds of all kinds of all kinds of all kinds of all kinds of all kinds of all kinds of all kinds of all kinds of all kinds of all kinds of all kinds of things. Treading this brisk pace, with a happy mood, into the world of food, smell the different flavors, as if into the world of food.
The day slowly darkened, touching a layer of thick clouds wind as if a naughty little elf, clattering blowing, with the passage of time time by time, the concert has just begun, the sky will be fluttering with hazy rain, a wisp, a piece of film, a silk, a strip, a burst. Covered the whole world, our enthusiasm was not wiped out, we did not care much, but. God is so ruthless, the rain is getting bigger and bigger, one drop after another like bean dots, have scattered into the earth, relentless rain, relentless time, relentless world forced us into the tent, helplessness accompanied by, ai ~ I gently sighed and sighed, I looked at the rain with disappointment, I do not know what feelings in my heart.
Time waits for no one, the rain fell for a long time at once, everything is gone, a thousand people bamboo dance, a thousand people martial arts, a thousand people square dance are gone, hey ~ helpless, we went home with regret. The wind is blowing regretfully, and everything looks a little sad.
Part 3: March 3 of the Zhuang People
Although there are still two days to go before March 3, the traditional festival of the Zhuang people in China, the Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region has already entered a state of revelry - people are busy enjoying a variety of folkloric activities, including singing mountain songs, throwing embroidered balls, going up the mountain of swords and making offerings to ancestors, among other things.
Celebrations began around April 17, with one in Nanning city