Su Shizhu, Chairman of China Calligraphers Association.
Editor's words
Many people can't tell how much they love their hometown. Miss my hometown, many times after I left my hometown, spread bit by bit in my heart, and the seeds of homesickness sprouted quietly. This issue of May tells you the story of six young people and their hometown.
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The eyes of hometown
Sun Chaojie (28 years old), Ph.D. student, Chinese Department, Fudan University.
10 years ago, when I first came into contact with literature. I copied a novel neatly in my notebook. When I finished writing this notebook, the moon also finished writing its night. I opened the balcony window and saw that the sun was also opening the window on the earth.
I knocked on the teacher's door during the break. There was smoke in his office, and I saw his eyes shining in the smoke. At that time, I felt that the eyes of people who do literature are so bright, and those lingering smog are more like lingering time. In class the next week, he came up to me and asked me with his bright eyes:
"You have to think about it again. Why does he feel more glorious because he is going to Beijing? "
What he said was the content of my novel, which was written with the intention of transferring from Beijing at the beginning of school. The question he asked me to think carefully, 10 years later, I still can't answer it.
In my mind, "Beijing" is so sacred. I only knew it in primary school textbooks a long time ago, knowing its splendid Tiananmen Square and skyscrapers; I think it is not only in a distant place, but also in a distant time.
In our childhood after school, we often run on a small road in the country, which is covered with sunset. Now when I think of running as a child, I feel more like running on the white and pink arms of my hometown; But now I'm back in my hometown, looking at the endless wheat fields and the curved people in the wheat fields, I find myself walking on the dark back of my hometown.
When I was a child, we watched the sun rise from the smoke in the east and set behind a hill in the west every day. We watched dandelions flying in the wind. We watched the plane crossing the field leave traces on the clouds, and we couldn't help thinking about what the world would be like in those distant places and in those distant years.
Finally, one day, I received the admission notice. It was like a key, which helped me open the door to a series of trips. I have seen young snowflakes floating in the northeast in June+10, 5438, the wind on the Bund gliding across the Huangpu River like a waterfowl, and the sea in Taiwan Province Province. Waterbirds on the sea brought me back to my childhood like the wind. But I can't remember my childhood hometown. I think something must have been blown away by the wind. It may not matter what is blown away by the wind. What matters is the unforgettable memory left by the wind.
I have returned to my hometown once again, and I can only explore the memory of my hometown from those aging faces. The longer I look at those faces, the more strange I feel, but it is in this strangeness that I finally find those familiar things. I feel strange because time has taken away something; Because the passage of time has precipitated something, I feel familiar with it. I feel more and more that what is precipitated is something heavier, something similar to life or fate.
I saw a little girl running around barefoot, her feet were covered with mud, and she even lay on the ground. Just as she was lying on the ground, I saw her bright eyes and looked at the bright hope in her eyes. I feel that I have inadvertently seen the eyes of my hometown and the secret of time.
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Taizhou no.23 division
Ying (25 years old) is a master student in the drama department of Nanjing University.
Taizhou is located on the coast of the East China Sea. Du Fu once wrote: "Taizhou is vast and has a long cloud in Qingdao." Ancient chariots and horses were inconvenient and difficult to meet. Vicissitudes make the Central Plains win the championship. It is in a corner and doesn't care about the world.
Taizhou is surrounded by mountains and seas. The sea is the East China Sea, but the mountain is Tiantai Mountain. Thanks to the traffic barrier and slow communication, folk customs, folk customs and local accents have not changed, and the old traditions are still there. I was born and raised in Sri Lanka, and I heard many old stories over and over again. Now the navy is stationed, drills regularly, fighters come and go, and the roar is overwhelming. In the distant past, when the Japanese were rampant in the Ming Dynasty, Qi Jiguang was also stationed here. Men are not enough, and women and children also go to the city to fight the enemy. Historically known as "Taizhou nine wars and nine wins". The local people remember their feelings, go out to Fucheng to send them ten miles, and build temples and monuments for Qi Huangong in many places, so there is the custom of "worshipping Qi Huangong on September 9th". Some soldiers of the Qi family have lived here for a long time, spreading their branches and leaves, and looking around, future generations are good skeletons of soldiers.
I have also been to the dock in my hometown. There is no sign of the enemy, and there will be no more bloody battles. But I saw the sea water turning yellow, bubbling, smelling damp, fishing boats lined up, and the tail gas was choking. Shippers are used to it and soon put the sea freight ashore. This is the citizen's vegetable basket and the fisherman's rice bowl. There was someone on the shore to tidy it up. Without lifting his eyelids, he picked it up and threw it away, and set up a hill on the spot. The sea breeze is blowing and the waves are rough. The sea in my hometown has already washed away the blood of war, but now it maintains a livelihood and nurtures people on this shore.
Locals have a tricky mouth, and three meals are inseparable from a "fresh". People come and go in the vegetable market, all of them are good at picking goods. When they look at the fish's eyes and sweep the scales, they dry up. Of course, fish is sold fresh, and whoever says his goods are not fresh can't help but quarrel. Boiled seafood, once rolled in the water, not allowed to blow cold, slipped into your mouth. Taizhou people, suitable for all ages, are good at spitting. A pot of fish is served, and a dish of Nitraria is born with a sip. My elders told me that this is a small practice. In the past, small fish were cheap, sold in barrels, suitable for their own consumption, with many thorns and dense thorns, but the taste was rare. Another example is the little mullet, which is as big as a wheel and a little finger and strung on a thin bamboo pole like a sugar-coated gourd. The children are eating and running, which makes them very happy.
Let's talk about Tiantai Mountain. The first sound of this "Taiwan" is the same as that of Taizhou. Looking around the sea, there is only this city. In the past, Li Bai wrote in his dream that Tianmu Mountain climbed high and went straight to the sky, with its peak reaching the sky and the top of the Five Holy Peaks, casting a shadow across China. Paradise terrace mountain range is 100 miles long, and it is here that it begins to turn to the southeast. " The Tiantai and Xianju in Taizhou are all filled with fairy tales, and they are shrouded in mist all year round, as if they were separated from each other. Poets are naturally romantic, and mountains are empty, so it should be said that "mountains are not high, and immortals are famous." "Dajiu Temple was built in the Sui Dynasty at the foot of the mountain. It is the ancestral home of Tiantai Sect, and the poets Hanshan and Pickup also live in seclusion here. There is a dialogue in the temple. " Hanshan asked me before, "Someone slandered me, bullied me, insulted me, laughed at me, despised me, belittled me, hated me and cheated me. What should I do? Pick him up and say, just bear with him, let him go, let him go, avoid him, be patient with him, respect him and ignore him. Stay a few years and see him. " For thousands of years, countless dignitaries, literati and ordinary people have stopped here. It doesn't matter whether you know it's in the past or not. Without a line, water flows from the west. When Jigong is away, Xiang Mei remains the same. Squirrels play with each other, tremble pointedly, do not avoid tourists, and get off the tree for alms. The local children are deeply impressed by this, and they will read: "This is the consistent way of human happiness, and everything will always flow to the East like water. So I'm leaving you. I don't know how long it will take. But let me, on my green slope, raise a white deer. When I need you, I will ride to you, Dashan. "
Since it is connected with mountains and rivers, we have to mention the typhoon. Every summer, typhoons come at least once. Dark clouds crush the city and destroy it, whether it's lightning or thunderstorm, it's not as good as going on stage, and there is always a feeling of surging emotion after watching it again and again. The wind flaunted, overturned the tiles on the roof, the rain broke the windows, and the water crossed the threshold and poured into the house. Strong winds and wild whistles, glass is fragile, and young children are forced to bury their heads and imagine walking against the wind. There are always some old houses creaking, as if they are about to fall apart at any time, and the owners are restless. They stayed up all night, scooped water all night, and were scared all night. After the typhoon, it was a mess and busy again. Merchants count the loss of goods, farmers take care of vegetables, and residents dry furniture. Only the children jumped up and moved out of the tub with joy, and the hooligans only shouted for rowing. But after a while, order will be restored, workers will go to work, and fishermen will go out to sea as if nothing had happened. Knowing the destiny as much as you can is probably the temperament of Taizhou people.
Taizhou, a city where the wind comes and goes, the tides rise and fall, and the immortals are nowhere to be found. The poet is gone, the questioner is gone, and so is the speaker. Fireworks are blowing, and people who add firewood have changed one after another. I don't know who to listen to.
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Talking about rural food
Yang Hongtao (24 years old) is a master student in Chinese Department of Fudan University.
After living in Shanghai for more than half a year, my temper has softened and my appetite has warmed up. Eating sweet chicken, duck, fish and crab on weekdays is enough. However, occasionally, my heart will still be filled with some lingering flavor. About my hometown, it seems that there is an old friend.
I'm not a real Chongqing pier. I've only been in the city for three or four years, and I'm not used to hot pot with red oil rolling. Eating red soup with friends always brings tears and runny nose. My friends laughed at me for taking the name of Chongqing people but not having the stomach of Chongqing people. This is cheating. The triangle dam in my hometown is far away from the urban area, which seems to be an accident left by "Furnace Chongqing". It is located on a mountain at an altitude of 2000 meters. In a cold environment, everything flows and updates slowly, and time is like taking a nap. The old cow walks slowly and has a slow heart. My temperament has also been slowly smoothed away.
Bacon is our famous specialty. Fame is a nickname borrowed from several neighboring counties. Every household raises pigs and eats bacon all the year round. Take a piece, cut it open, it's shiny, take a bite, and it's full of the fragrance of all kinds of pine trees. This is probably because meat is smoked from various pine trees. Bacon is the best food for entertaining guests. Stir-fried beans are blind, mixing green peppers is blind, or mixing a pot of soup, throwing a few pieces of potatoes and yam, and chatting with the guests for a while, the pot is full of fresh fragrance. What is more precious is that the green beans and peppers are planted by the mountain people themselves. Therefore, when the mountaineer shows his old teeth and asks if your food is salty, he is proud and sincere from spring to winter!
In the famine years, in order to store food, generations created various "fermented vegetables". Earth altar is a must for every family. We call it "sour water" tank. Put ginger, carrots and green peppers all year round. Seasonal vegetables can be put in the altar. When cooking, put a little acid water in the earthen jar, and the fried food is absolutely delicious. "Moldy tofu" is also a must-have fermented dish. Moldy tofu is actually a kind of fermented bean curd. Cut the tofu into cubes and let it grow mildew quietly and grow long green hairs, as if the tofu had become exquisite. However, once you roll these "green-haired monsters" in the sauce, they will become honest, and the dipping sauce will be sealed for several months before opening the altar to eat, which will give them a sense of time and a unique altar flavor. Douchi, rice grains, chopped peppers and stuffed plums are also common fermented vegetables. They are the children of the mountain people, lying quietly in pots and pans. My old altar will make a loud gurgling sound every night, especially when there are many melons and fruits, the sound will be more vivid and loud. When I listen, I feel unusually calm.
In fact, hometown people are not particular about their diet, and the appetite of mountain people is extremely conservative in this conservative environment. Our way of eating is a simple and exclusive way for mountain people, without affectation or exaggeration. In this simple rural land, eating honestly retains the "true color" of whole grains. However, the appetite of the mountain people has its own femininity. Even the roots of wild vegetables are eaten in times of famine, but all monosodium glutamate-flavored fast food, sour, sweet, salty and spicy salad curry and ice cream hot pot are not allowed.
Women arrange meals at home according to the season of melons and fruits, pick a few prickly cucumbers and mash them, add some seasoning and mix them together to make appetizers, or simply throw the whole cucumber in the jar for one night and pick it up for a bite the next morning. Or pull a few peppers or eggplant in the ground, roll them in the firewood pile, tear them into strips, and add a little salt to make them delicious. Set up a table in the courtyard dam at night, and the family will chat while eating. Women in the village love to drop in and send a pot of fried chicken fungus.