-----------------------------------------------6/28/01

Thursday, 4:06 PM:

Today I woke up to the light sound of water dripping out of drain pipes from the flat roof. The sky, colored with varying shades of gray, hinted at more rain to come. Everyone took the hint and slept in.

As farmers generally don't go to the fields on rainy days, I figure today is a good day to reflect on what life in the country is really like. In China the word universally associated with the countryside is "xinku." In Nanning, at first mention of my plan to experience country life, not one city-dweller could resist bursting out with "very xinku!" When I first arrived in Small Yin Village and declared why I'd come, the response was, of course, "too xinku!!" Even now, whenever villagers spot me in the fields or at home they smile and ask right away: "xinku, eh?"

The definition of xinku is "hard on the body and spirit." During my past few days here, I can see how such a description would be fitting, if the work were continuous; but it seems that despite the hype about the difficulty of life here, it's not quite the endless, back-breaking struggle of harder times in previous generations, still fresh in recent memory. Most days there is plenty of time to take a nap after lunch and talk with friends, and dinners often become protracted occasions that last 'til midnight or later. Even rainy days turn into holidays for most, who spend time visiting friends, watching TV, and sleeping. Maybe the general disdain of farm work is simply another manifestation of the laziness of the human creature, or perhaps it's more a reaction to the mindlessness of repetitive farm work, each year passing with little to distinguish it from those before.

When I mentioned some of my doubts to a local teen, he made an important point: "If you came a few months ago, THEN you'd know xinku!" True, farm work is seasonal; I'm told I've come at a time of "average" workload. Either way, there is certainly more idle time to be found out here than many believe. I almost consider it odd that villagers don't make the best of this free time by spending it in pursuit of knowledge, or anything other than just sitting around doing nothing as they seem to be fond of. Is it possible that, as the definition of "xinku" tells us, country life drains the spirit? In any case, the long-term effects of a simple life are no doubt detrimental to one's creativity. Of course, I can't relate to this aspect of country life; because much of this experience is relatively new to me, although I'm somewhat physically tired after a day of work, my mind is excited with feelings and thoughts...

On a lighter note, I spent most of the day reading and enjoying the scenery. As usual, village kids would peek around corners to see what I was doing, only to scatter as I glanced in their direction. At pauses between showers, I sat on the roof watching the isolated rainstorms pass around us as villagers passed from house to house.

Lunch involved more gyrations than usual as all the flies in the vicinity seem to have taken refuge from the rain, on our table. That combined with the uninvited crumbs of roof in my food (loosened by the pounding of rain) made today's lunch one of the more unforgettable among the lunches I've had...

I've also become yet more familiar with any tiny discolorations on my legs so as to increase the efficiency of my defense against the incessant winged micro-menaces. Nearly every page of the magazine I'm reading today is a graveyard of tiny red spots.

I really hope it doesn't rain tomorrow so I can get back to the fields.