A Day in the Country (Shantung)
Days in early October are perfect for visiting the country. The
thermometer stands at 70° to 80°. We set out one clear, fresh morning
at about eight o’clock. I went in a sedan-chair, and the two others
in a wheelbarrow--not such an uncomfortable conveyance as might be
supposed, except when the roads are very rough. The occupants recline
on each side of the wheel, and parallel to it, in a padded seat with
back rests and cushions, their feet extended full length in front; the
barrow is wheeled from behind, and has a man harnessed like a beast
in front. As this was a heavy barrow there were two additional men
pulling, one on each side of it. The sedan-chair travelled quicker
than the barrow, and had the advantage of taking short cuts across
the fields. It was carried by four men, two in front and two behind;
the front ones carried by means of a pole, to which the shafts were
suspended--which ran parallel to them--while the carriers at the back
were in the shafts themselves. When the men wished to shift the weight
from one shoulder to the other, they supported the pole by means
of an upright one which they carry for the purpose. Owing to these
arrangements the chair can be equally well carried by three men as by
four, two in front and one behind, in which case the back carrier is
much farther from the chair than the front men.
I was soon well ahead, and did not witness the catastrophe that
happened to the barrow shortly after starting. Going round a corner
rather too fast, the barrow was upset, and one of my friends was tipped
out into the dust; but the other, on the upper side, managed to hold
on. Happily, no damage was done, as the fall was into a soft, clean
heap of dust. But it was not so pleasant a matter for another friend to
whom this happened when she was travelling the same road earlier in the
year. She was tipped over into a sea of mud, and as she happened to be
carrying a basket full of eggs, she suddenly found herself in a “Yellow
Sea.”
Leaving the city behind us, we passed through open country where every
one was still busy harvesting in the fields. Some fields were already
ploughed, in others green wheat stood a few inches high; it would not
be much higher before the snow came to cover it for winter. Much of
the foliage looked more like spring green than autumn, and many of
the villages lay embowered in trees--willows, aspens, cryptomerias,
the last-named always belonging to temples or adjoining graves. The
threshing-floors were filled with golden grain being prepared for
winter storage. Bean pods were being broken up by means of stone
rollers, worked by donkeys, blindfolded with neat straw goggles.
On one occasion I saw a donkey wearing a pair of ornate blinkers,
bright blue cotton with protuberant black eyes surrounded by a white
line. The Chinese love to decorate the things in common use, and it
is a perpetual joy to see the skill and ingenuity expended on simple
objects. After the bean pods have been crushed the different parts of
the plant are raked into separate heaps on the threshing floor--bean,
husk, stalk, and chaff--for every particle is used in one way or other.
If one were asked to state what was the most striking feature of this
great empire, I almost think it would be this: the carefulness which
prevents waste, the ingenuity which finds a use for everything. Even
the green weed covering the ponds is used as fodder for pigs. When
the fields look quite empty after harvest, the women and girls gather
together the few remaining straws. Every inch of ground is cultivated,
except the endless mounds, the graves of countless generations.
The country was a scene of delightfully cheerful energy, whole families
working together; a tiny child lying naked, basking in the sun, the
women (despite their bound feet) as busy as the men. Barrows passed
along, groaning under loads so heavy that it needed a friend to drag in
front, while at the end of some five yards of traces a donkey trotted
along, waiting to give its assistance till it was more urgently needed,
as, for instance, going uphill or over difficult ground. The reins were
attached to each side of the barrow, and could only be manipulated by
a dexterous twist of the wrists. Occasionally a man rode by on a pony,
whose coming was heralded by a tinkling of bells. As the country is
covered with crops, not many cattle are to be seen, and any there may
be are mainly fed on bean cakes. We were swiftly borne through village
after village, and my men only set me down for one ten minutes’ rest
during the ten miles, which we covered in two hours and forty minutes.
As we entered Wang Chia Chuang (Wang = family village), the whole
community, headed by the Wang family, turned out to meet us, having
been warned the day previous of our intended arrival, and we were
ceremoniously led to the Guest Chamber. On the outside of the entrance
to the house little strips of red or orange paper were pasted up, and
in the inner courtyards as well. On these papers are sayings from the
writings of Confucius, or other mottoes, such as the following:
When you sit quietly, think of your own fault;
When you chat together, mention not another man’s.
In teaching children, good must be taught;
To win a reputation, study may be required.
Diligence and frugality are the principal thing in maintaining
a house;
Humility and mildness are the boat for crossing this world.
Honesty keeps the family great;
Classics make the generation long.
These couplets are renewed at the beginning of the year, and the
village schoolmaster has a busy time writing them.
Tea was brought in, and not only the family and schoolgirls, but also
the neighbours came to see us, pouring out a flood of talk, of which
we understood nothing. Then we went into the schoolroom across the
courtyard, and found it and the girls as clean as soap and water could
make them. The certificated teacher was about twenty years of age, and
in this case happened to be Mr. Wang’s daughter. Her room opened out
of the schoolroom, and was a pattern of neatness--it was ornamented
with photos. Her salary is £3 per annum. The curriculum of these
village schools consists of the three R’s, singing, drill, and sewing,
and it is wonderful to see the difference in the appearance of the
girls after they have been a short time under training, the awakened
intelligence showing to a marked degree. The more promising students
get drafted on to the boarding-schools for further training, with a
view to their becoming teachers. The largest of these schools only
contain thirty scholars, but they have two teachers for that number of
scholars. An official who happened to visit one of these schools was
filled with astonishment at the behaviour of the girls; as soon as he
entered they all stood up, and answered the questions he put to them
with modesty and clearness. He said how different this was from the
behaviour in the national schools for boys, and sent a large sum of
money (comparatively speaking) to be divided among the scholars, as a
mark of his appreciation. In the large towns Government schools for
girls are being started, but in the country there are only mission
ones. Dating from the new year (1909) school attendance is compulsory
for boys throughout the Empire, therefore the Government is responsible
for the establishment of the requisite number of schools--at least one
in every village. At first there was a difficulty in starting village
girls’ schools; now they are in great demand, and sufficient teachers
cannot be obtained.
[Illustration: A VILLAGE SCHOOL]
After we had heard the children sing and had inspected their writing
and sewing, &c., we watched Mr. Wang doling out medicine in a
patriarchal way in the courtyard. Several people had taken the
opportunity of our visit for killing two birds with one stone, namely,
seeing foreigners and obtaining medicine. One of them showed us her
unbound feet with great pride, as she had just achieved the process
of unbinding, and she presented us with her old shoe, much worn, but
beautifully embroidered, in which she used to work in the fields. The
Chinese naturally have remarkably small feet, and in this village
most of them are unbound, as the majority are Christians, but the
feet are so tiny that in many cases it is difficult to believe that
they are not bound. The women wear white linen socks, and their wide
trousers are neatly fastened over them with different coloured braids.
Village life here looks eminently patriarchal. The sons do most of the
work, all living with their families under the same roof. One of the
daughters-in-law had a beautiful Madonna-like face, as she sat nursing
her baby, with other youngsters crowding round her knees. No one could
have failed to admire the saintly expression and graceful pose. The two
married daughters of the house were living in a neighbouring camp with
their husbands, who are Manchu officers. All the prefectural towns have
Manchu garrisons, but it would not be possible for a foreigner to tell
the difference between Manchu and Chinese soldiers.
Our visit came to rather an abrupt close, as we were warned that we
must reach the city before sundown or the gates would be closed. Mr.
Wang brought in preserved pears and tomatoes strewn with sugar, which
are esteemed a great delicacy, and then we started on our homeward way.
Work in the fields was ended for the day, but for many of the Chinese
work is never ended. Until all the grain is housed, watch must be
kept by day and night. Small huts are erected in the fields for this
purpose, sometimes perched on tall poles, from which a wide outlook
can be kept over the country, or on the threshing-floors adjoining the
farms.