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Post by FayChee on Jan 25, 2013 10:21:41 GMT -5
Douglas, my eyes drink up your photos like a thirsty animal in a scorching dessert. It may be a little odd, but I cannot see enough of old hand-hewn wood. You are so lucky to still have some of the old furniture including the hook for hanging food. I'm going to look for one in granddad's house. Is the plant in the old wall hanger a rooting of the original one from the time of your grandma?
If I were to restore my granddad's house, I would like to replace it with antique furniture from his time period, including the old time cooking wok. I would like to rough it like in the old days on my short visits there....
Fay Chee
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Post by douglaslam on Jan 26, 2013 7:24:01 GMT -5
Fay Chee, if you do take your first trip to China, there is ample opportunity for you to inspect traditional houses in South China. In my village there are many "no people houses." Brazen thieves would move in, even in broad daylight to removed period furniture. The early 20th and 19th century or earlier furniture has a strong demand. As you said they were hand hewn, not by laser. Some of my grandfather's furniture are in storage in the house. They are made of very precious timber, very heavy and resistant to borers.
I think the plant in the wall holder is the original one handed down from my grandma. It is just inexplicable, grandma would look for water droplets on the leaves and confidently predict money and letter would arrive in days. I may have been little at the time, but I didn't forget what I had heard and seen. Douglas
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Post by douglaslam on Jan 27, 2013 0:41:32 GMT -5
My old homes brings back happy and some very, very sad memories. Perhaps I'd get to the sad memory one day. And here are some more boring photos. This is the stair landing, behind it, another staircase which leads to an attic and open balcony. To the right is the grating which allows limited natural light down below. The grating or grid was also my playground. I used to spend long hours here alone, or with Ming. We would bring the cat underneath, then we dangled something at the end of a string to tease it. This brought on much mirth and laughter. Sometimes, I'd have a cotton thread spindle with a stick through the middle and tied something at the end of a string , and make-believe I was flying a kite. I spent time alone here because I was barred from going to school by that monster Mao, the scourge of China. I was the offspring of a landlord class, I must not be allowed to mix with the proletariat. I remember one brutal incident at school where everyone was given a red scarf as Mao's young pioneers 红領巾, a few of us were denied it in public for being undesirable. It was open humiliation at a very young age. Only Mao could conjure up one. One of the bedrooms and the attic are used for storage, quite messy actually. The chair is one of a few in excellent condition, it would fetch a good price overseas. The chest may have been one used by my grandfather for one of his trips home. This is the front section of the upper floor. It now has a loose floor covering, false ceiling and wired for power. There is also a desktop PC. The is the teenage son's room. The ancestral altar high up and facing out, was cleaned out by Mao, and is now seen downstairs in a spartan form. Where the bed is now, was also the spot I shared a bed with my mother. My mother was a life-long smoker, the irony is she lived to 95 years of age. Buy she did suffer from shortness of breath, wheezing, and perhaps diabetes. Inside the mosquito netting, she would blow smoke rings to entertain me, or bring the small kerosene lamp with a glass smoke stack to the mosquitoes trapped inside the net to kill them. I would hold on to her arm and go to sleep. It was such a warm and secure feeling, just thinking of it makes my eyes watery. Because our long separation and no voice links, mother was like a stranger to me on my early visits. I tried to make it up on later years, with more frequent visits when possible. I just don't know what the future would have been for me if mother did not have the fortitude to let go of me. siyigenealogy.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=shared&action=display&thread=1181&page=15 I may find myself doing the rounds delivering gas cylinders, or smuggled into Hong Kong on later years. Who knows. This is Jade's young adult daughter's room. I am showing it in order to highlight the state of the house. One of the cross beams is badly rotting away. Opposite the bedroom door, is the short hallway to the front section. It is now darkened because Ming's new extension completely blocks out the sun. The roof top outdoor balcony showing the lighting and ventilation hatch. It is not in use now because of electric lighting and extractor fan installed. It has a commanding view of a large part of the village. The old house means a lot to me. It is my little piece of China I do not wish to relinquish. It is truly the roots of a family which is now spreading far and wide. It badly needs remedial work or a complete rebuild. Two features I would retain if I were to rebuild it: 1) the two tall heavy solid timber front doors. 2) The grating which I had spent so many hours there. I just do not have the resources to do what my grandfather had done. It is a dear and cherished wish of mine. My claim to the house is uncontested, I don't think there are too many sentimental and romantic fools like me around. No one in my generation or behind had any direct tie to it. No one cares but me. Why should they?
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Post by FayChee on Jan 28, 2013 21:00:47 GMT -5
Douglas, it looks like minor work to be done at your house. I wouldn't rebuild it, as it would loose some of the magic of your memories. Can you imagine one day that one of your grand- or great grandchildren will have a yearning (like ours) to visit their Ancestral home and the story of the 'grate', the hook, the wall planter will be told as you told us? And that beautiful antique chair.........is there a treasure in that old trunk? Did you look inside? Is that the natural color of the wood or did they stain it dark brown?
If you look down the stairway of your first picture, it looks like the full left side of a woman going by. The blue sky in the last picture looks like heaven.
Fay Chee
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Post by tyuti1668 on Jan 29, 2013 0:52:55 GMT -5
...The chest may have been one used by my grandfather... is the character for that type of chest.
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Post by douglaslam on Jan 29, 2013 7:47:31 GMT -5
Fay Chee, my goodness you're seeing something that I failed to see. Could it be the apparition of my mother? The chest and chairs are as the way they were, nothing had been done to them. Tyuti1668 is right, it is quite typical of the time. There is nothing in the chest I am sure. If there were, the Red Guards would have helped themselves to it. There is something else I left words never to be discarded. It is a pair of hook to hold the mosquito net. The hooks are made of brass in the shape of a fish. I want them. My mother left few things, but amid what little is left, is the paperwork to the house with my name on it. There is also one old document showing our land holdings. I mentioned the place names to Ming and Ma Gor, they all know where they are. Younger generation would not know the old names. Big fat chance I could lay claim to them. I forgot to mention the times I saw the laohuaqiao 老華僑 returning on home visits. Each man would smartly dressed in a suit and hat, shiny shoes with taps, a stick in hand, head held high, and walked along the stone slab alley, with porters carrying his spoils. We the kids would follow and called out in unison " gold mountain guest, gold mountain guest" 金山客 金山客 all the way to his home. We would crowd around, and would not be dismissed until we were given something. The family concerned would only be too pleased to oblige for it was a big day and a grand occasion. Normally, we would get a few biscuits unpacked from the baggage or hastily bought from Ming's family bakery. It was a special kind of biscuit which looked like a Chinese chess piece 棋子餅. Believe me, I am not making this up. Who was to know less than twenty years later, I would also be feted as a gold mountain guest when I returned in 1973, with bicycle couriers carrying bags and bags of goodies, including bicycle and sewing machine to handout. Without exception, returning gold mountain guests would come home in broad daylight. They wanted to be seen, it was their moment in the sun. After enduring discrimination, living as second class citizens, not as an equal, at last they were feted as heroes.They deserved the accolade and respect due them. He might have been a humble laundryman in North America, a market gardener, or a small corner store owner. He might have been a door to door hawker who carried his farm produce on a shoulder pole with little children following him throwing stones at him and calling out Ching Chong Chinaman. This was the scene in a typical country town or suburb in my state of NSW. This was in the very early 1950s before Mao had gone even more insane. The old timers would face more than discrimination later, they would stare death in the eye because Mao would launch his campaign against even small land owners. He would purge and annihilate them, death sentence was passed out summarily. This is one of two squares I know of in the village. The lane way is on the left, then a Buddhist temple facing the square. The square had many uses; it was our playground, it was used to dry rice grain and a winnow was often seen in use here at harvest time. This square was also a performing platform for travelling street performers and kungfu experts promoting their herbal and bone setting medicine. I saw acts of self-mutilation ( could have been a fake), in promoting a healing balm. I saw Cantonese opera, and watched the artists make-up for their performance. They came carrying their all on shoulder poles. They would spend the night probably in one of our many village halls. It was a hard life. It was unlikely to survive into the 21st. century, but Mao did not let it died a natural death. To a village kid like me, this was not something to be missed. A storyteller would take centre stage in moon-lit evenings or by a flickering kerosene lamp. A crowd would gather. I was too smaller to listen to the story, but there were glow worms to catch. It was the kind of evening fun we all enjoy, there was something for adults and children. This is the front of the temple which is over three hundred years old. The temple was turn into many uses under the commune production brigade, another of Mao's brainchild. At one time it was a kindergarten. Now, it is returned to the faithfuls The entrance and main hall of the temple. As you can see, it has been renovated. A plaque also recorded donors to previous renovations, I could see my great grandfather's name, I would not be surprised my great great grandfather's name was there too. Just that some of the names are hard to read after so many years. The temple was also our favourite hide-and-seek venue. There used to be a long dirty red drape or curtain hanging down and tied to the two main pillars. Each time we tried to hide behind the curtain, we would disturb a bat colony, which also called the temple home. At the centre is the main Buddha.. They are all recent year replacements for the originals. I saw with my own eyes the destruction of the gilded Guan Yin, Goddess of Mercy. It was an exquisite work of art. Mao's zealots wanted to destroy all religions and beliefs, They smashed the statue of Guan Yin with crow bars, they looked for gold bars believed to be in the cavity. To the left and right are The Eighteen Buddhas 十八羅漢 The original Eighteen Buddhas were vivid life-size statues, well know throughout Chungshan. Faithfuls and admirers used to come from afar to worship or appreciate them. They represented the best in Chinese religious art. The statues all met the same fate in the early years of the Cultural Revolution. They were smashed to pieces. Ming, Ma Gor or anyone I talked to, told me the same story. The zealots and ring leaders who did this wanton act of destruction, disrespect, call it whatever you will, all met with dire consequences. Each one died young of paralysis or incurable disease of some sort. Just deserts?
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Post by tyuti1668 on Jan 29, 2013 20:10:03 GMT -5
... blue sky in the last picture looks like heaven... In old days , "my" house can see the lights in Macau far away (~40km) at night .
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Post by FayChee on Jan 29, 2013 21:44:21 GMT -5
Douglas, I can't believe how much I am learning from your wonderful tales and photos! I love that courtyard. Eighteen Buddas! I had no idea!! All this time I thought there was just one Budda with many jobs.
I wonder what kind of treatment my granddad received when he returned from Canada and built the Ancestral home? I think it was between 1909 and 1920 (I am only estimating). I know from the old photos and letter that he had built the home before 1940. I should be able to find out when I go to China. I know from the Ships passenger lists that my dad returned home in 1913 and 1922, I'll bet that he got a nice welcome from the villagers. I know that he sent money home to help build the home and support his relatives. I was told that my dad was a very kind and generous man, so he must have treated all of the villagers with Red Envelopes. My village is so small (8 families), I wonder how many other young men left with my dad for the Golden Mountain......and how many returned.
Fay Chee
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Post by FayChee on Jan 29, 2013 21:57:53 GMT -5
This is what I see in your picture..............Fay Chee Attachments:
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Post by helen on Jan 30, 2013 2:22:07 GMT -5
If anyone wants to save all 40 pages, you can " save as " to your computer - then probably save to a usb for later.
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Post by douglaslam on Jan 30, 2013 6:16:51 GMT -5
Fay Chee, it is very strange indeed. But I can not make sense what you have outlined, but my wife pointed out to me a faint outline of a human figure sitting in the chair. Very strange. Any one saw different? Your grandfather was way before Mao, there was nothing Mao could do to him. Becoming a Buddha is a form of attainment or enlightenment. www.chinatownology.com/Chinese_religion.html Look at this link, you may get a better understanding. Tyuti 1668, I did not visit the other bigger square, you know the one with the new village office building. If you post the photos, I can then add my commentary. I forgot about it after lunch.
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Post by tyuti1668 on Jan 30, 2013 6:51:06 GMT -5
...did not visit the other bigger square, you know the one with the new village office building... You may find in this girl's blog lq1600kk.blog.163 .com (NO space btw 3 & .)
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Post by douglaslam on Feb 2, 2013 6:21:01 GMT -5
Facing the square from the temple, to the left is the main drag of the village. It is best known for its stone-slab pavement and concentration of village halls. There are no other villages can match us in the number of ancestral halls on the main street or elsewhere. siyigenealogy.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=culture&action=display&thread=1555 In the past, this was a busy commercial hub. On market days as determined by the lunar calendar, the long narrow strip would be lined with traders stretching to tyuti1668's village, with their fruit and vegetables, poultry, medicinal herbs, wild games, fish from the boat people and ponds, meats, cooked food, etc. In fact anything at all. I loved coming to market days. It was not like going to a supermarket with its clinical and sterile display. There were also shops and eateries, I especially liked watching and listening to a man who wielded two choppers to mince pork for wonton. It was like a musical performance. No food processor can match that for liveliness. Turn the corner, the first thing you'll notice is the Three Stone Steps 三級石, also a landmark. The thoroughfare was never meant for motor traffic or even motor bikes, but very small cars do get through. The steps have been made friendly to the changing modes of transport. To the right was the iconic village bakery Cheong Sing 昌盛 owned by Ming's family. People still refer to this particular part of the village as Cheong Sing or Three Stone Steps even though the bakery was forced to close under Mao in 1958, together with the street market. Private enterprise and small traders are all bad and must be abolished. How can you argue against god, he was beyond reproach. All that is left now is the shop signage in gold characters on black background. It is in Ming's keeping. The bakery was self-contained, it had its own well and a small living quarter. Since its forced closure, it was used as family home. When migrants started to flood in, Ming converted it to rental home. It was extra income and it was too late to go back to the old family business. Besides, Ming never learnt the trade from his father. Occasionally, we would play inside the bakery, more like watching how cakes were made. I watched the wooden mould used in making moon cakes, and whoever was at it would need to bang the mould against the work bench to dislodge the dough, and put it into a wood fired oven. To the left was and still is a hairdresser's. From memory it was bigger back in the early 1950s. The metal hair blower / dryer stood as tall as a big child, the heat came from charcoal on the bottom. A man was also there to fan the customers, don't know what the contraption is called. It is a length of cloth hanging from the ceiling, a man would pull a rope, then let go, making the air move, sort of like a ceiling fan. Lately, I've been coming here for a little self-indulgence. There are more fancy and modern looking outfits. They all do the same job. It used to be run by two migrant women. One has returned home for good after making enough to build a two storey home and start a small business. One woman owner now works alone, and her family's living quarter is at the back. Not thing unusual about that. I don't really have much hair on top, still I like a shampoo, scalp massage, shave, and ear canal cleared of wax. It is a refreshing feeling when all is done. The cost? 10 RMB, much less than $2, even with a haircut, I still get change for $2. I love it, and I am supporting a small business. This is our principal ancestral hall, as it was in 2010. My daughter is in the first picture, she was on her first trip to our village after the Expo and a few other places. This is the hall in Nov. / Dec when I was there. It is undergoing a 4.5 mil RMB (more than $700,000 in U.S. or Aust. dollars) rebuild. Funding comes from many official sources. There may be donations involved. A fellow villagers patiently guided me to see the work in progress. I would be happy to make a small contribution if asked, and have my name engraved on the honour roll.
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Post by FayChee on Feb 6, 2013 23:28:17 GMT -5
Douglas, I was away for the past week and very happy to see these wonderful pictures when I returned last night. I can't wait to see what the final restoration looks like on that Village Hall....I hope they keep as much of the original as possible. Let me ask you a question....does the term 'migrant workers' refer to Chinese workers from other areas of China, or to other nationalities like Russians or Africans?
Fay Chee
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Post by tyuti1668 on Feb 7, 2013 1:17:02 GMT -5
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