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The door, sitting in someone else's home for an afternoon, so we that is also called "sitting home", anyway, in addition to the busy farming vegetables to the family's pigs, chickens, people, preparation of three meals a day, are idle. Idle nothing to do is not sleep, that is also embarrassed to play mahjong all year round, then there is no fast hand and no jitterbugs, women hold a bellyful of words, whining, excitement, sadness, nowhere to vent, which will have to run to the neighboring tea and chat, this sit in the middle of the day and also pull this parishioners a piece of go to the next one to continue.
We called the women as "guests", which is very appropriate, that is, the guests inside the hall. The people who come to the door, no matter how familiar with the neighbors, are respected as guests, so the door to the door and the door is usually accompanied by a change of identity at any time, the door to the door of the next second to the guest house in the hall, and instantly become a guest of his family.
The parishioners speak loudly, and they don't care what the walls have ears. What was said today in this house, a moment later spread to a long distance.
What they are talking about is nothing more than the shortcomings of the family, whose children went to work where, what business, how much money they earned, what kind of daughter-in-law they married, how many children they had, whether the child is a boy or a girl, etc.
Now, they are talking about how to make a living in the city.
Now the topic also extends to the development of, whose family where to buy a house, where the eyebrows are tattooed, when which house to be levied, the government in the village and what construction, which the poverty alleviation team and sent a rabbit cage to.
Some of the parishioners chatted and chatted in a flurry of color, the muscles of the face like singing opera everywhere pulling, hands and feet to put the story from beginning to end performance, and she really did vividly, extremely into the drama, said to the excitement of the time, I am afraid of blood pressure rushed to the top, for her sweating.
When I hate, I hate with all my teeth, and when I talk about sad things, my eyes are really red. The somewhat older cousins (now you can change the name of the mother "grandmother"), granddaughter in the province of other cities to go to school, never go so far, think of this is going to fall in tears, of course, the bystanders carefully persuade, we all know, she has said no less than dozens of times in front of us, the next time in tears, the bystanders every time like the first time to see the comfort of. The first time I saw this, I was able to see it.
Then if any family has any scandal, the parishioners still have to lower their voices and secretly share the secret, with a bit of cynicism in their tones, a bit of jealousy, and a bit of pretended sympathy, and anyway, the secret can't be hidden, and tomorrow another parishioner will share it as a secret. When I was a child, I didn't like to go out much, basically the information in the village was brought to me by the people who came to my house to "sit with my family", and now that I don't go home more than a few times, I can't wait to have people come to my house to "sit with my family", so that I don't have to go out to get a hold of many of my fellow townspeople's recent situation. The first thing you need to do is to get a good understanding of what is happening in the world.
Sitting on people's addiction is also quite disliked, my grandmother next door to the one is the most disgusted with a day and night without home, what things have to come up to insert a sentence, discussing other people's things she is quite interested in, as if this is happening on their own, rumors also belong to the fastest she is afraid of is the paparazzi in the parishioners, families are afraid of her, but it is not good to explicitly say that, so they had to join together, but she did not know that she is not a good idea, but the dark irony. The first thing I'd like to say is that I don't think she cares, or she simply can't understand the meaning of the word, and she still can't stand the loneliness of walking outside, treating other people's homes as her own.
Sometimes strings are not intentional, the water in the field to take care of the good by the way close to a cup of tea, rest a leg, once a fat parishioners went to my grandmother's house to rest, the result coincided with the heatstroke, even rolled his eyes, almost out of breath, fortunately, grandmother and another parishioners in time to give her gua sha, to save her this life.
Speaking of drinking tea, our family that sesame ginger salt tea let me miss, recently in isolation grounded, I remembered that there are tea from home, ginger also have, sesame also have, with chopsticks thick end, ginger chopped into a mud, put in the hot water soaked tea, and then add a small point of salt, sprinkled with sesame, so that it is full of floating in the tea broth, which has become the family to drink, to treat the guests most Sesame Ginger Salt Tea. When I was a child, there are only sesame seeds at festivals, tea is to go to the mountains to pick, home fried, each family taste is different; drinking tea in a small bowl, to the end of the year when there are often gaps, cracks, New Year's Eve before the change of a set of.
The parishioners are definitely the backbone of the village, doing farm work without any ambiguity, the most important thing to look at in the field is the irrigation, that is, if anyone breaks my water, my mother, the parishioners in the fighter, it must be to kill some of the past fight.
Previously, the parishioners served the children at home, the in-laws, the men went to work outside, it was not fashionable for migrant workers to drag their families to the city, the children at home to go to school, there is not much to count on, unlike now, we farmers have seen some of the world, there is a bit of ambition, and work hard to take the children to the city to go to school, at that time it is a quiet, a day of work, get a wage, and not have the mind to think of other ways. I didn't have the brains to think of other ways out. Nowadays, no matter who's family it is, the new generation of married cousins basically won't stay in the village, or the family will be considered unproductive, and they will have to go to the city to buy a house anyway. Now, the village is full of old cousins.
The old parishioners now also occasionally learn from the city people to dance in the square, usually introduced by the parishioners who work in the town, the parishioners I quite like, especially love to smile, smiling eyes, see always feel quite happy; evening after dinner to go to the riverside walks, I occasionally summer at home will go for a walk, the evening of the night, met some new faces parishioners are very surprised, a lot of the new married in me, most of them are not recognized. Most of the new marriage I can not recognize, but there are also childhood playmates, they also became the parishioners, looks and body temperament is not as light as before, I would not recognize.
Some of the old parishioners were left alone in an empty house, people died and the vegetable patch was deserted, and no one brewed tea; some of them were worried about the children at home who had learned to be bad, and more or less resigned to their fate, feeling that they couldn't change it; some of them were unable to take care of the young children who were left behind.
They wear rough and tacky clothes, but they think it looks good, poor quality fabrics, bright colors, also sometimes appear black and white solid colors, often inlaid with lace, chest and pants embellished with bright rhinestones, sometimes with a Peter Pan collar, a little childish sense of loveliness, but also sexy, the parishioners are mostly plump, they are accustomed to disguise their own character, the common tricks are Wear loose clothes, not wearing a skirt that reveals the legs, in order not to overly flaunt to provoke gossip or their own not too good.
The parishioners sat in the doorway of the backyard facing the north wind in summer after a nap, lazily talking one by one, just waking up from a nap in an acerbic voice; in winter, they drilled into the roasted fire quilt, stoned on melon seeds and drinking tea to satisfy very much.
At that time, I began to have a vague concept of people, people began as a body, and later appeared in front of me as different souls, these souls in the history of the inconsequential, trivial. I still can't write about them, they are all so distinct,? They all had different nicknames, voices, speeds of speech, hairstyles, bones, skin colors, that closeness to a person, that close observation and relaxed conversation that I almost never encounter any more, that people want to show some kind of ability in front of other people, to show their insights, to talk well, to throw in the towel, and they are the only ones who are the closest to the land.
Cover image: Venus of Willendorf
Although Venus of Willendorf is called Venus, she is in fact a very small Paleolithic statue, whose Chinese equivalent could be called the Earth Mother Goddess, unearthed in 1908 near the Austrian village of Willendorf. Willendorf, Austria, where a number of statues of Venus have been found, believed to have been made between 22,000 and 24,000 years ago (Late Paleolithic). She is faceless, her head is decorative curls (or braided and coiled hairstyle), thin hands on the swollen breasts, like a pregnant belly protruding forward, navel, pussy details carved very clearly, feet are as small as the hand rough.