Trip to Guiyang----A Symphony of Three Generations Part II 3
Minutes passed by, and then grew into hours, and at last I found myself in a reserved room equipped with a big round dinner table in the center, two sets of armchairs facing each other, a TV set at the far end, and of course how it could be
overlooked, an auto-shuffling Mahjong table at the farthest corner. We arrived
quite early, so there was plenty of time left before dinner, and even before I
knew it, the 13 people were divided into two camps, one Mahjonging at the corner
and one, led by dear Uncle, taking pictures at the small balcony that faced the
Mother River of Guiyang: Nanming River.
At six the dinner began. To say it was the most mirthful and boisterous family
feast I'd ever attended---and probably would attend in my life, would be literally weak and unimaginative, but it's beyond my power---and it would be tedious--
--to give it a full account of how we had many laughs, a good variety of seafood
, and toasts and loving wishes to every happy face around the table, which alone
was quite an enjoyable scene.
Two hours later we were driven back home in Uncle's car, and again the people were made into two groups: Mother, Uncle, and Grandma, as they always were hard-working food providers, making dumplings and the others working diligently around
the Mahjong table.
For the next few hours, I didn't participate in any of the groups but rather sat
quietly watching the New Year Gala on CCTV 1, trying with all my might to distinguish the TV sounds from noises of Mahjong. Then the noises changed; the Mahjong stopped; and Aunts yelled, "Whoever is in the desire for 'Lucky Money' must kneel before me!"
Lucky Money bestowal has been passed down by generations after generations in China for thousands of years. As China is on her way to getting wealthier, Chinese children's pockets are getting bulkier as well by every new year's eve. Though happy and grateful for every amount of Lucky Money I received from my great-aunt's family, and particularly from my dear Canadian friends, who just enclosed the envelope with a cute little coin, I personally take no liking to this Chinese
tradition, and hated it more when Mother had a row with her parents regarding a
"serious" issue of how much money she should put in three "red envelopes" for my cousins. I found myself nevertheless quite interested in what would be happening.
A cry of "me first" from my youngest cousin kicked it off. With a thump, this five year old obediently knelt down before Grandma, then Uncle, then Mother, then
Aunt, and then his parents, and bowed again and again in a perfect circle that
much resembled one drawn by a playful pony trying to catch his tail. Everybody
laughed. Next was my 12 year old cousin, who against his will made several kowtows in haste, grabbed the red envelopes, and sulkily ran away like a shy little
mouse, two patches of red appearing on his checks.
I didn't expect to see my eldest cousin, a tall and handsome young man, kneeling
down on the cushion in a matter-of-fact manner. What surprised me most, however, was when I saw Uncle jumping down from the sofa and giving his knees away to
Grandma and Grandpa, jokingly stretching out his hands for Lucky Money, followed
by Aunts and then Mother, whose eyes I saw glimmered unusually bright. The living room was shock with laughter.
No one expected me to do anything when they doled out their red envelopes, I am
sure, but just when there was no more kneeling down, I summoned all my courage,
walked in front of Grandparents, and with a prickling feeling that 12 pairs of eyes were looking at me, I gave the old couple a quick but sincere bow, the very
first in my whole life and the one that came two decades late. After what seemed like eternity, I raised my back up straight but kept my head low all the way to the sofa, in fear that they might see something shining in my eyes.
It turned out that I won back all the money we gave to the cousins. But this night will be remembered as much more than that.
The rest of the evening was spent quite eventless and much more relaxed. Everyone looked drowsy and tired by 12:30am when they left for their own homes.
"Gone." I heard my granny sighing when she was watering the flowers her eldest grandson brought her, "All gone, and soon my darling will be gone back home, too.
These flowers will be my sole company by then."
True, Grandma, I wanted to say. Even these flowers won't last for too long to transpire aroma. There is no "forever and ever." But aren't we supposed to just
thank for what they have left us, what we will remember of them, as opposed to
regret what we have lost or will be lost in our trials of life?
I couldn't bring myself to saying it, though, for I don't know if I will stick to this idea when I grow 80 year old with all the energy left for simple cooking
and watching TV, and with children too busy too come by every day. Neither am I
sure if my future will turn out to be a blessing for my dear parents, or simply
a curse, though I'm striving for the first.
I only replied her with a sad smile.
Those roses and lilies and carnations died soon after we had the Lantern Festival. They didn't get to see the rare sunshine and the blue sky that marked coming
of the spring. They should have rightfully deserved better than been grown and
cut off for sales. But they didn't die in vain. They left the world a most beautiful thing: Aroma of love.
Could I be turned into one of them? I surely hope so.... I said in my dream on
the first day of 2008.
End of II, to be continued with III
|
轻松英语