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A Cultivating Virgin (1,2,3,4,5) [Copy link] 中文

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Post time 2006-1-7 14:23:14 |Display all floors
1) Go to the Virgin Moor

Coming to the year of 1961, one more miserable year in Chinese modern history, Chinese people were tightened their belts up and hobbling into a new famine year.
The horrible situation was attributed to natural disasters and Soviet Union's dun. Anyhow, in whatever reasons, the fact was the quota to our food supply was deducted daily and we had to stop our routine work and manage to find some food to feed our stomachs.
The story of “Cultivating a Virgin Moor” happened in those harsh days in the middle school of Gan Yue county.
To solve students' more and more severe food-shortage, the authority of school organized some kitchen workers to set up a “School Farm” in the beach of Po Hu Lake, the No.1 lake in China. Cultivating in a virgin treed-moor for supplementary food was its top urgent task. Actually, the workers were mainly engaged in dinner preparation and labor's arrangement. The farming routine work was responsible by students on duty.
It was about the middle May, when I together with about 20 classmates walked alone the Dyke of Po Hu Lake and waited for a ferry to our farm. Just beside the dyke, there were a shoal of prisoners with black, oily faces and dirty clothes working hard under security guide's bayonet. With suspicious eye-signs beneath their dusty hats, they were wandering around us, the very odd guests in such remote area.
Across the river there was a virgin moor with endless flourishing reeds. It was our potential farm which was yearly submerged by abundant wild bushes.
In early summer, the regular monsoon season not arrived yet. The Po Hu Lake was still in dry period. However, under the embankment, the roaring river with turbid waves clearly showed the earlier massage of flooding.
“Ai Ya Lai, I am coming with a little boat rowing....”, suddenly a folk song was sounded from the waves, which brought an unusual silence on the dyke. “ Ha ha, it is Shrimp! He is coming to pick up us.” our team leader cheerfully shouted up.
Sure enough, as the song's stopping, a middle age man about 40 appeared in front of us. He is scrawny with a pair of slice eyes. He slowly anchored the boat, then, stepped forward to us, with a full face of childish smiling and periodical nodding.
“Are you ready, sir? Please all of you be boarding.”, he said. “Ha ha, dear Shrimp, you are hiding here to do your monk business again! aren‘t you?”. “Yes, I am. I am accustomed to it now, no matter it is at a hill or here in a lake.” Shrimp answered with funny smiling. (To be continued in next post)

[ Last edited by wenzili at 2006-5-27 02:12 PM ]

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Post time 2006-1-11 07:31:53 |Display all floors

A Cultivating Virgin (2)

2) A Dramatic Fellow

The man called as Shrimp was a senior kitchen worker. His original task was to knock the class bell and supply fresh water. There was no tap water available in my hometown at that time. Therefore, all water for several hundreds students and faculty’s daily life was born by Shrimp’s shoulders. All year around, you could only see his shoulder red and swollen, never heard his any complaint.
He was a poor guy with too much misfortune. He lost his parents ever since his childhood. An old temple master in Dong Shan Hill gave him a mercy and picked him up as a junior monk. After liberation, no religion service was permitted. He had to recover a normal life. Up till now, there was an array of 9 little scars on his head. Since he had a bow figure just like a shrimp, therefore, a nickname of “Shrimp” was added upon him. With time being, no one even knew what his real name was.
Shrimp was single until recent days, when someone helped him to marry a female bagger. The girl was a bit silly but much younger than Shrimp. It was said, immediately after wedding ceremony, the bride was in such anxiety that she took off all her cloths and laid on the bed with her thighs’ open and breast erection, eagerly waiting for her groom’s coming in. Facing on bride’s lusty nude, the groom was so shy, that he never dared to looked at her body directly. Covering his face with palms, he continuously whispered: “ Oh, what a shame! How shy I am!”.
Found no response yet, the girl could not withstand, she came down from the bed and pulled his trousers off. The Shrimp was scared and tightly closed his legs with pitiful shivering and muttering: “For Budda’s Mercy! For Budda’s Mercy!”. His such poor behavior made silly girl crying all night long.
All of this story was discovered by some piquant students who were lurking behind the door or window peeping and eavesdropping whole night. After that, some people always made fun to him: “ Hi, Shrimp, do you happen to know how to do the fair?” “Do you want me together with your wife to show you the way?” With such humiliate taunting, he was never offended and could only say: “What a sin! What a sin.”
Exactly a short while after his wedding, he was sent to this Farm in Po Hu Lake.
The boat was fluctuating in the river. The surging waves were constantly charging  to the bow with splashing droplets rash to our faces and cloths.It was very quiet,since we all held our breath by scare even panic. “Haha,”suddenly,Shrimp’s gruff voice broken the deadly silence. “it is your gentlemen’s fortune”he shouted as his rowing sped up. “You see,”he pointed to the up reach with his oar, “There is something in the water!”. With his direction,we found a black item was ups and downs in the waves.”There was a flood in our up reach. That matter must be a drowned pig.We’ll have a delicious meal with pork dishes today!”he cheerfully announced.His excitement largely awaken our desire toward forgetten taste of meat and reminded our painful hungery in our empty s$$aches. He skillfully turned the bow back to block the item’s swift floating.Then, he fiercely pick it up with his oar.”Wow! My God!”we all shouted out simultaneously, since we found the capture was nothing but a black and swollen body!“damn, damn!” Shrimp quikly spit to the corpse for driving away the unluckness brought by it.
After our disembarkation, Shrimp arranged us to a reed made camp. Dozen students crowded in such narrow space and laid on fresh reed-rod floor, we could hardly withstand the terrible moist and smell. But, no sooner, with teenager s’ optimistic nature, we got used to it and made a lot of fun in it.
“Dang, dang, dang.....” after a while, a dull sound came from Shrimp’s kitchen. It was his bell, an innovation to imitate school’s facility. He hung a broken hoe head in front of his tent and knocked it with a chop back to generate metallic sounds, which comically brought us a bit academic atmosphere in this desert moor.
“Diner is ready!” Shrimp heralded as knocking the bell and with a childish smiling. “ Ha ha, dear Shrimp, you are doing the same job here.” “ Yes, since it is a part of our school. Is’nt it?” he seriously explained with an enjoyable proud.
May be for fire prevention sake, his cooking sets, a pile of dry mud supporting a huge rice cooker, were deliberately located in outside the door. Inside the cooker, a mixture of congee and vegetables was a luxury meal to us at that time. “I am so sorry to all of you for such a humbler greeting meal,” Squatting beside the cooker, he distributed the food to us carefully. “Not all!” we replied instantly. “Since there isn’t any meat or cooking stuff available here,” Shrimp added. “may this mixture serve you as both staple food and dishes, can It?” He mumbled with a funny looking and endless regret. ”Why not?” we replied and eagerly started our first picnic.
(to be continued)

Exrtated from <A Dedicated Dream> written by Wenzili with all property right reservation

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Post time 2006-1-11 07:33:28 |Display all floors

A Cultivating Virgin (3)

3) Fighting to Mosquitoes

After supper, it’s getting dewfall. The spectacular sunset appeared upon the endless reed flowers. white mist was slowly rising from the moor and lightly floating between the vast sky and waving reeds. It came across the welkin and reflecting the lofty sunglow. The shining and colorful clouds were holding the falling sun and casting the rays into the water beside moor. Both the lake and the sky shared the same color, and just like a harmonic landscape exhibiting in front of us. We were strolling on the bank and completely inebriated by this breathtaking scene. “Hi! Gentlemen,” sounded up again Shrimp’s coarse voice. “Go to your beds please, otherwise you’re getting lost.” It was true. For some reasons (free from fire or mosquitoes), no light was available in the camp. Enlightened by his advice, we came into the tent in hurry and found our own location. Then, made our beds, which were so simple, that just one over lapped quilt laying on the reed floor. The pillows under our heads were nothing but the cloths and shoes just took off. At that time, only a few people could afford to buy a mosquito net. No sooner, we completely realized what’s the real meaning of “ poverty”.
At the nights of earlier summer, may a few mosquitoes’ bites occur to the residents downtown. However, in this vast moor there were so many pits with dirty seeper where procreated countless wigglers. Therefore, the boundless moor was the heaven for mosquitoes to multiply. Here, no birds flight over, no beasts running about either. Those mosquitoes hardly found their food supply. Undoubtedly, our arrival meant their provision of a valuable food resource. These evil insects immediate assaulted to us in clusters. Their humming was as loud as roaring thunder, whenever and wherever. “Oh, oh, my God!” we were as flapping as shouting. Some of us even cried and asked mum dad for help. One or two students with mosquito net became the subject for net sharing. Inside the small net there were 2-3 persons squeezing together already. The heads still kept intruding. People who found no room available in these nets had to dive their heads into quilts. However, in the earlier summer, how people could stand the stuffy mugginess inside? They had to come out from time to time for breathing. In such repeat way, people had no way to sleep. Suddenly, a loud cry burst out. A student named Yuan was yelling, after several horrible mosquito bites.” Mum, Dad, how can I survive and free from the damning evil? How can you be so cruel to enjoy yourselves at home and leave me alone here to feed mosquitoes?”. This unfilial son really could not understand it was by no means of parents’ intention to send him here for suffering from insects’ attacks.
I am very sensitive and nervous to mosquito bite ever since my childhood. The pests’ continuous attacks made me have no way to sleep. I had to get up my steam and sat up for mosquito hunting. Once the humming closed, an immediately flap may result an evil life’s cost. The bloody moist and slippery feeling among the fingers was really a kind of enjoyment. No sooner, my palm became sticky for hunting harvest of pests..
(to be continued)

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Post time 2006-1-11 07:35:22 |Display all floors

A Cultivating Virgin (4)

4) Under Plague’s Shadow

The first night accompanied by mosquito clusters was horribly long. Thank to my God. It finally got over. The desired dawn coming with the sign of shining sun lights cast in our camp. Free from mosquito assaulting, we all fell to sound sleep soon. But, our sweet dreams just last about 1 hour, Shrimp’s nauseous bell sounded again and waked us up. Hazily got up, we reluctantly teetered to the river for washing with numerous muttering complaints. After one more mixture of congee and vegetable meal to refresh our strength, we held hoes and went to the moor to start the barren cultivation.
Our task was to cultivate a garden from the reed moor. The reed rods had already been cut away for firewood by local farmers. Some newly grown seedlings were scarcely distributing here and there. Shrimp advised us to cut all shoots down around our targeted garden to create a fire- proof lane, then, set the remainders on fire. In this way not only could save cutting work but also got fire-ash as natural fertilizer for crops’ glowing. It was true, however, after firing, there were so many root stubbles remained, which were as sharp as spear heads. At that time, almost all of us were with bare feet. Stepping on these remained stubbles, the soles were immediately bleeding. Even worse, the bank of Po Hu Lack was famous epidemic area of schistosome disease. Chairman Mao wrote a famous poem titled by “Say Good By to Master Plague”, a vivid description exhibited the nature of tough plague and the miserable situation. “No way to the pest even Hua Tuo, The Chinese supernatural doctor!”” Thousands families empty hall, Just ghosts wandering with howl”
As mentioned before, there were thousands of water pits in the moor. Millions of nail-like snails were growing and multiplying there. The snails breed the deadly epidemic media, the second generation of larva. These pests intrude to human body either through hair pores or through skin cuts. As soon as their coming, they lurk into human’s livers and spleens to suck the blood inside . The patients immediately fall to beds with symptoms of high fever, lean figure and pot-bellies. At that time, the only way to them was going to the lower world, became a singing ghost as poetized by Chairman Mao. The prophet’s penetrating portray visualized the willful persecution by plague in low and middle reach of Yangtze River. However, the same as those historic illusions, such as “Great Leaping”, ”Satellites Launching”, It was also regrettable that his firm prediction to Plague Master’s off and the excitement for its celebration were miserably remained to empty. His imagination was too far away from the reality then. And even 3 years after his celebration, we were still jittering under the Plague Master’s shadow.
We had some classmates who came from the plague area. They knew too much from their brothers or parents, the patients of plague. They constantly warned and wisely suggested to us, a few younger juveniles from township, report to school authority and ask for withdraw from this area. However, we were all cowards and never dare to say a single word to those big potatoes. Every day, just as to travel to ghost haunting cemetery or tramp on mine field, we were holding the hoes with backs chilling and feet shivering and doing what we didn’t want to do or should n’t do.  (To be continued)

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Post time 2006-1-11 07:47:34 |Display all floors

A Cultivating Vergin (5)

5) A Secret Prescription fromTemple

Beside the plague’s threat, the strength of cultivation work was also beyond our imagination. The reeds deeply rooted themselves into earth for years. The roots network was so dense and thick that the hoes immediately rebounded back after our digging, which always resulted to an invalid work after long time’s struggling. Occasionally, might hoe dig a little bit depth to the roots, but still hardly plowed the earth over. More over, since the reed’s easy and fast growing nature, we just plowed a clean land one day, and it was covered by reed shoots  the other day. Therefore, our cultivating progress was very slow…….
One early dawn, our team leader came out the camp for smoking. He was so worry about the schedule and squatted on bank silently and morosely. ”That is all right sir., don’t worry!”, just completed meal preparation, Shrimp came up to him kindly.” I wont report to anyone.” he further explained to comfort him. “That is very kind of you!” the team leader stood up and held his hands thankfully. “Anyway, as you may see, we’ve done our best. Did we?“ he said with a low profile.” Yes, you did. The work is really hard and……””Ah,ah, my God!......”, a horrible shouting inside the tent interrupted their conversation. They immediately run into the camp to see what’s happened.
In the far end of our tent, one student sitting and crying there for his cock being bitten by an unknown insect, it came to red and swollen now. The front head of his penis looked like held with a life buoy. He was so painful and panic, that could not keep to crying. “ Calm down ! don’t scare, sir!”, Shrimp said.” I’ll get a secret folk prescription for you.” He said and spurted into his kitchen. Where, as per temple master’s instruction, he mixed up cooking ash with vegetable oil. Then, he carefully pasted the temple medicine to my poor classmate’s life ring with a mysterious smiling……
Just under such terrible environment, our dovelike students honestly worked and lived there for more than one month; we just sat down without a single lamster neither any complaint to school authority.
More than 40 yeas past, all those people are getting old. Our lovely friend, Shrimp is still alive and enjoys his happy retirement with his silly wife.  (End)
Extracted from <A Dedicated Dream> written by Wenzili with all property rights reserved

[ Last edited by wenzili at 2006-1-12 08:59 AM ]

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Post time 2006-1-30 18:29:50 |Display all floors

Happy dog's year

I wish you all have a happy new year of dog!

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rovi297 has been deleted
Post time 2006-1-30 18:35:32 |Display all floors

wenzili, are you actually the Shrimp in real life, I wonder?

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