#hoiping

第一天: 開平

Day One: Hoiping [Kaiping]

PHOTOGRAPHY & COMMENTARY: Isabella Xu

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Nick Lau [劉正綸] ______________________________ __________________ Maternal Grandmother’s Village

Well, First Day eh? This was our first actual day of rooting; the first day where we went to three of our cohort's ancestral villages. This first grouping of photographs (and there are three hordes total on this post) are of Nick's secondary village, his maternal grandmother's village, as well as shots of the surrounding urban area. The village itself sits parallel alongside a river (or is it a canal? I don't know) and is a grid of old brick houses among a sea of high rise apartment buildings in Hoiping, Guangdong, China (also known as Kaiping in Mandarin). It was a peculiar sight really as most, or even all, of the grungy, dark village structures were in stark contrast with the pastel palette modern boxes towering over the area. Waltzing around the village, it was very strange to be strolling down an alleyway between two rows of ancient village homes, but have a salmon pink apartment building looming 75 meters ahead. But then again, I also noticed some contemporary accessories on and within the village homes still in use. Some doors had been replaced with shiny new aluminum counterparts. There were electrical wires everywhere. There were scooters parked beside front stoops. In one house I could even hear a television blaring Chinese dramas as I eavesdropped past. 

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Jeremy Chin [陳足中] _______________________ ______________ Paternal Grandmother’s Village

The second village of the day was as a secondary village which was Jeremy's paternal grandmother's village. Arriving there is a smidgen of a funny story. Jeremy is impeccably apt at research, and in his family and village research he found the location of the village on Google Maps. When we were driving to his village Jeremy was telling our leaders where his village was located and how to reach it. But our guides ignored his advice (though bless their little hearts, Professor Long, Sherri, Mickey, Sifu and the occasion's official are amazing and are champions)... At least at first anyway.

After a longer number of minutes than I had anticipated, our Roots Mobile pulled up to Jeremy's village. And let me tell you; it was pretty damn small. It was a very quaint and clean village, but still small, but that doesn't mean it lacked in beauty. It was situated among some fields and rice patties and had dirt roads leading to and from the area. The homes in his village were also quite colorful; there forest green window frames, golden yellow aluminum awnings, orange tiles adorning balconies, salmon pink tiled siding that covered the exterior of homes, red bricks and doorway ornaments, and a robin egg blue roof among other things. Another snazzy thing about Jeremy's village was that it had a watch tower, which given how small the community is, was a minute surprise. While I didn't have time to venture up into the tower, I've been told the view was exquisite. ▾

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Candace Hsu _______________________________ _______ Maternal Grandfather's Village & a School

The third and final rooting of the day was Candace's maternal grandfather's village and a school that her family has donated money to. The village was very tiny; even smaller than Jeremy's and was about 100 ± 20 meters in total length and was situated next to a retention pool for local agriculture. Exiting the bus, I noticed there what I can't describe any better than a bunch of things. There were buckets, stools, bowls, brooms, trash bins, what appeared to be a park or school table with attached seats, and several clotheslines alongside the homes to our left. To the right were scooters, wooden chairs and tables, piles of bamboo and two dogs that lined the retention pool bank.

PHOTOGRAPHY & COMMENTARY: Isabella Xu

(This is only a snippet of my visual interpretation of our first day of rooting, if you’d like to see and read more, check out the full post on my website for all the juicy verbiage and photographic evidence ).

Wait, What's Going On?

Guangzhou: Wall on the perimeter of the Overseas Chinese Vocational School grounds.

Four days ago I began composing this post, and was sitting smack dab in Kaiping (Hoiping), China in Guangdong Province. Now, we're perusing Toisan, a 45 minute-ish drive away, which, fun fact, is where my family hails from. Overall I must say, Roots is a whirlwind; it's not chaos like I was lead to believe (well, maybe it was for past years, but my cohort thus far has been exceptionally efficient, cohesive and fan-freaking-tastic if I do say so myself). 

Guangzhou: Wall on the perimeter of the Overseas Chinese Vocational School grounds.

Guangzhou: a Stop. Kaiping: a Stop.

Alright, Day One of Roots 2018. Whoo. Well. Here we go, pals. After a grueling flight we stayed the night in HK, piled all eleven of us (and our luggage) into two puny-ass taxis who delivered us to the train station, boarded a train to Guangzhou, China, successfully passed Chinese customs, were collected by Sifu (our gracious and hilariously great bus driver) and drove to the school that helps sponsor our program in China.

Kaiping: Walkway leading towards the Diaolou and Villages World Heritage site.

We met the principal of the school, who was a very kind and friendly dude wearing a eggplant purple polo shirt (automatic respect to him), hopped back on the Roots Mobile and headed to our next destination. Next, we had our our first real meal in China: dim sum! Lunch took longer than we had anticipated, but all encompassing it was a marvelous meal. Three hours later (spoken in the SpongeBob narrator voice) we hopped back in the bus and began the three hour drive to our first site of the trip and last stop of the day before dinner and hotel; the Kaiping Diaolou and Villages World Heritage site, which was magnificent to say the least. I admittedly don’t have any photographs of the towers or view, but I did capture details of the site and the surrounding village. Overall though, a very fulfilling Day One.

July 8, 2013

Changon Village, Hoiping, Guangdong

For my second rooting day, I visited my gong gong’s village. From being a wedding planner assistant on the side, the hours leading up to visiting the village felt much like seeing a “day-of” video of a wedding day. It’s the part where you see the bride getting dolled up, anxious for the day to start. You can tell she has been waiting for the moment for a long time after months of planning and preparation.

I did my make up and put on my dress (Frank Lee continuously reminded me to make sure to plan my rooting day outfit accordingly because I’ll have to live with these pictures for the rest of my life.. aka make sure the sweat doesn’t show!)

I had a moment to look at the view of Hoiping from my hotel room to think about what lied ahead. As I was looking in my suitcase, I found a letter my dad had secretly hid for me to find while I was away from home. He had told me to enjoy my time in China and wished he was given the opportunity himself to experience what I was about to go through. This reminded me of the part where the bride’s dad gives his last piece of wisdom before she goes down the aisle. Finding this letter was the perfect moment- it was a reminder to take comfort in knowing my family has been supportive of this journey. Leading up to this trip I have had many talks with my poh poh, asking about gong gong’s family and how they often would visit in the 70’s and 80’s to help fund the mun-lau and spend time with the remaining friends and relatives in the village. I couldn’t wait to see the village for myself.

Being in the village was what I expected and more. I met my ah-kiu (uncle- gong gong’s brother’s son) and other extended relatives. I assumed I would get to see the mun-lau and house my gong gong grew up in, but was surprised to learn there was more in store. There was a second home larger than the first where he was actually born, and the family watch tower in the back of the village.

Simple moments of seeing the room my gong gong grew up in, seeing his floor in the watch tower, looking at old pictures of my great great ancestors in the houses, and walking upstairs in the mun-lau to find that my grandparent’s picture was still up on the wall were my most treasured memories. I was lucky enough to spend two hours in the village- it’s considered a lot for our rooting schedule, yet a small fragment in my life.  I have never had so many moments significantly impact my life and change my entire perspective in one day. It is crazy how a relative I never knew existed, showed so much generosity and nurturing to his niece he had just met. How he held my hand in ensuring I made it up the narrow stairs inside each building, and offering to take me out to dinner to meet his immediate family.

My definition of family has changed from these experiences. To know I have family half way across the world that have shown me overwhelming love from the moment they met me was something I had never even thought was possible. It has made me appreciate my family back at home, and to not take them for granted.

Dad, Mom, Tina – I may drive you guys insane, but in my defense.. I am the baby of the family! Just know that my accomplishments have been heavily influenced by your guidance in my life. You are the reason why I smile in knowing I come from a loving family.

Months ago back when there was no tentative itinerary planned for the order of villages we were going to see, I assumed I’d see mine somewhere in the middle. Ten people, one or two villages per person, I had a good chance of not being first. Long story short I’ve had been stressed out being told I was first and third. I didn’t know what to expect or how to prepare.

The morning of my first rooting day, I was nervous. I have never felt so nervous in my life. I ate a few spoonfuls of jook and some watermelon slices. Between getting carsick on the bus and a million butterflies flying in my stomach, I wanted to throw up!

I drowned out the many conversations on the bus and stared outside as we drove by the nearby streets of my village. The moment I had been awaiting for months had arrived.

As we pulled up to the village gate, Al said this was my village and that I was home. Words cannot describe the feeling of belonging to a part of history I had never known about until recently. This is where my Tai Gong- great great grandpa lived (mom’s mom’s dad’s dad). Although I never had a chance to meet him, I still felt a sense of closeness as we pulled into the village.

Walking around the village was breathtaking. Behind the houses was a river overlooking the lush green crops and fields. The house was aged with dust, cobwebs, rusted metal, and crumbled walls. Normally I’d stay out of places like that, but I fell in love being there.

In the common area where the two sides of the house joined, there was an altar sitting up high that was accessible with a wooden ladder. As I stood facing the altar holding the incense, I was told to say something to my ancestors.

I instantly thought of my grandma even though she is alive. She is the reason I got to see my Tai Gong’s house from her generosity in sharing stories of the past. Had she not shared about the Ong family, I wouldn’t have thought of picking a secondary village. I knew nothing about my Tai Gong, but seeing the conditions he lived in and the lifestyle made me proud of him.

This experience has made me grateful for what I have, and to not forget where my family comes from.  I made the choice to choose this village in honor of my grandma who has shared countless stories. In the midst of me asking questions about the Chan village (the other village I visited), she started to open up about her own. To be honest it didn’t click in my mind to go to two villages, but after hearing her share story after story about the Ong family, I wanted to visit it.  When I told her on the phone that I was going to see the Ong village, she sounded so incredibly happy. I could tell in her voice that she was excited since none of her children or grandchildren had seen this village.

Fun fact: My grandma is tech savy: She has a Facebook account and even writes on my wall (how many 93 year old's do that?!). She has been viewing this blog to follow along with my trip.

On July 7, I had the opportunity to go rooting in my grandfather’s father’s village of Chaoanli in Xiaohai, Kaiping/Hoiping, Guangdong Province. The whole experience felt like being caught up in a tide, with the force of my distant cousin sweeping myself and our group from building to building to pay respects to my ancestors. The activity overwhelmed and overpowered me mainly due to the fact that I’m pretty much helpless and completely dependent upon others while I’m here in China. In that way, my rooting could be seen as a concentrated version of the overall experience in China so far. I need language interpretation to have any sort of conversation, I need someone else to order meals and to make the arrangements at our hotels, I need to be told what to do and where to go at almost all times. In Chaoanli, these helpless feelings were concentrated by the fact that it was my turn to ask my questions and get some answers, my turn to be the center of attention, but yet again I had to turn with a confused look to one of the group leaders and look for direction.

While this sounds like a frustrating position to be in, and in some ways it really is, it didn’t really make my experience any less powerful. When push comes to shove, my dependence upon others doesn’t take anything away from the value of being in China. For me, because I didn’t come here with particular questions that needed to be answered I have the flexibility to let this trip unfold itself without expectation. In fact, being here makes me realize that there is a lot of specificity missing in the reasons for why I am a part of this program and why I’ve made this journey to China. Of course I want to see where my people come from, to understand that part of my identity. I am extremely grateful to know what my family’s homeland looks like, to feel the humidity that my ancestors felt and taste the flavors of this part of the world. It’s powerful to now feel that being Chinese is not just some broad concept, but a specific place that I’ve touched and seen with my own eyes. After being here for almost an entire week and seeing Chaoanli I don’t feel like I’m half Chinese, but rather a quarter Hoipingese and a quarter Toisanese, and owning that knowledge is invaluable. It is enormously enriching to feel that sense of place, to have seen the buildings and the people and the landscape. I loved being able to walk down the alley where my ancestral home once stood, even if it is now inhabited by a simple brick woodshed and animal pens. It made me smile to see the cactus and orchid garden growing on my cousin’s balcony, and to think of the beautiful cacti and orchids that my Yin Yin has always kept. Tasting the watermelon, bananas and "wong-pay" (AKA wampee in English or yellow-skinned fruit) grown by my cousin reminded me of the generosity of my aunties, uncles and cousins back in the United States. Being able to burn incense and paper money gave me pause to remember those in my family no longer with us, but who live on through our the familial love that is such an important part of who I am.

Part of me came here thinking that finding the roots of my ancestral village would redefine me entirely, or maybe I was hoping that it would illuminate my life’s purpose. However what I’ve come to realize is that roots only make up one part of the whole. They are essential to who I am, but in no way make up my entire identity. Perhaps the most powerful feeling has been the affirmation of the importance of my family as they influence me in the present. Our ancestral context is important to who we are, and helps me understand being Chinese and that part of my identity. It was surprising to me that I didn’t spend all or even most of my time in Chaoanli imagining our past ancestors, but sinking into gratitude for the family I have known my whole life, reflecting on our lives in the United States and the importance of family to who I am.