Xian Farm Community - Part 2

May 6, Thursday, Xian Farm Community - Part 2

We're lead thru an entryway to a smaller courtyard where there is a display of manual farm implements. Our host joins me and Art in demonstrating the grinding wheel (NOT easy to turn), then we enter a "typical farm house" next to it. Some of the implements and ways are still used, but they also use mechanization (tractors, etc) to multiply productivity. I have to keep reminding myself that, for the most part, this isn't a museum reconstruction of "how things were" - but is "how things ARE" - the melding, as before, of old ways with big-screen TV's and cellphones. It really is a different mindset. I'm used to looking at log cabins or museum rooms which are entirely artificial - and, in contrast, this is *real*. No need for a curator to certify the authenticity.

We're struck by the arrangement of stove and bed. That's the kitchen stove to the left (where the pot is). There are tunnels from under the stove - right out under the bed - to heat the bed. Double-duty on the stove. Note also the *hard* "pillows". Yes. The black enameled box and the marble pedestal - are *pillows*. The belief is to always seek *balance*. Yin and Yang. So if your mattress is soft (though it doesn't look that soft to *me*), you are supposed to have a *hard* pillow. Balance. Chi. And though it seems quite undesirable to me, well, it seems to work for *them*.

A spinning wheel and loom are in the corner of the "living room" and I can't resist giving a couple of twists to the Spinning Wheel. You can see that the mechanical advantage is huge: each spin of the big wheel causes maybe 100 revolutions of the little white spindle.

We're lead back out of the house and into - well - a studio. Upstairs to the 2nd floor and we arrive at a large room just *covered* with the original artwork of our host. It seems that he is quite multi-talented. He was playing the cymbal during the dragon dance - and now he sits and plays his simple bamboo flute. Just a short, simple tune, but very appropriate.
Then he lifts a brush and with deceptively-simple strokes, beautiful flowers begin to emerge. In less than 5 minutes a beautiful original piece of art - has flowed from his hand, through the brush, and onto the paper. He adds his red stamps (lower left and middle right) - THE way that Chinese paintings are signed - and I'm just amazed at how quickly it all just emerged.

Of course, when we entered, we quietly conferred with each other and agreed that we certainly didn't need to be trying to safely transport original art all the way back to Florida. But. Kathy finds a pair of paintings that would just go *so* well in our Guest room - and our host shows us that purchases include a nice box which will easily allow transport. Annnd before we know it, we have spent a *very* modest amount of money - for *3* original paintings. You'll just have to come visit us to see them. It just feels good to carry something halfway around the world and have something so "real" to hang on our walls. I don't think that many of our group resisted the temptation to own a piece - or two or three.

Back outside and I have to try another implement. Nope. I have NO idea what this does. Still don't. If you can tell me, please do.

We say our goodbye's and troop back out onto the street and get to peek into a courtyard with some women playing MahJong then on down the street flanked by old brick buildings then into an old Buddhist temple which had to be hidden during the Cultural Revolution while religion was totally outlawed. I just *loved* the carving of the happy Buddah face. Reminds me of Dom DeLuise.

Back outside and on down the road to the fields of flowers Kiwi fruit and that beautiful, lush, green, heavy-headed wheat that I mentioned earlier. We are told that it should be golden and ripe in about another month. Wish I could see that. A field of ripe wheat is just beautiful: an "inland sea" with the "amber waves of grain".

There is absolutely no feeling of rushing. Of performing. We just stand in the hot Xian sun and absorb the atmosphere - literally - of the lifestyle. Hard work. Smiling people.

We amble back toward the bus and are captured by a litter of puppies.

A little further and, painting in hand, I stop to scratch behind the ears of another tiny little dog, tail between his legs - looking SO much like he just wanted some friendly attention. OK, OK...after I petted him Betsy nicely offers me some hand sanitizer and I gratefully accept it - but he was *such* a little cutie.

We pack up our memories and get back onto the bus - and are whisked off to the airport. Good bye Xian!!

Except that our flite is delayed by a couple of hours, so we sit in the airport, comfortably talking and *then* board the plane to Shanghai!

Next: Shanghai