by Wai Chim
We scrambled about the house getting ready, like a basket of eager pups. Ma said that we had to put on our very best clothes to go to the city, even better than our New Year’s outfits.
I found a clean linen dress that Ma held over a boiling pot of water to steam out the wrinkles. It was more delicate than my other dresses so I had to be extra careful not to crease it. Guo and Cap wore matching white shirts and dark blue slacks.
‘Come on, wife. You’re going to miss the train,’ Jin called out.
‘I’ll just be a minute,’ Ma said. We were all huddled by the front door, with Cap and Guo’s suitcases in tow. I chewed my lip, realising that if Guo’s plan didn’t work, Cap and Guo might not be able to come back to the farm at all.
Ma stepped out of her room and I forgot all about my fears.
She was dressed in a navy blue suit with her hair pulled up in a neat bun. And she was wearing make-up! I had never seen my mother look so fancy before, not even on the day she married Jin. Her skin was as pale as a swan’s feathers and her lips were slick and shiny like glass. She was wearing black leather shoes with a small heel and a thin string of pearls hung around her neck. She looked smart and sophisticated, like she could be the prime minister’s wife.
The five of us gaped at her and she smiled shyly. Then Ma lifted her chin and pursed her lips, so that her cheekbones looked even sharper. ‘Come on, there’s no time to waste,’ she snapped. ‘We have some business to see to.’
We followed her out the door like a flock of baby chickens, completely stunned.
The trip into the city was very different to the one I took last year. That was when I met Cap for the first time and he showed me how to sneak onto the train. This time, Jin bought us tickets and we crowded onto the platform to wait like normal passengers.
I snuck a peek at my brother and Cap. They both looked nervous with their suitcases in hand. Ma, however, was calm, her chin held high.
Finally, the train arrived and Jin and Bao bid us farewell. The train pulled out of the station with a loud chug-chug and toot-toot of the whistle, speeding us into the city.
Cap and I played a hand-slapping game to pass the time, but I wasn’t paying much attention. My palms were sweaty and the sick feeling in my stomach wouldn’t go away. All I could think about were the years that I had spent on the farm, first with Ma, Guo and Pa when he was alive, then with just Ma and Guo, and now with Jin, Bao and Cap too. The farm and our little village was the only home I had ever known. It cracked my heart into pieces to think that if Guo’s plan didn’t work, we would have to let it go.
The Department of Culture in Guangzhou City was located in a rather plain-looking building in the city centre. Even though it was shorter than the other buildings, I had to crane my neck to get a good look. Ma’s heels clicked as she trotted up the cracked marble steps.
The foyer was big and empty except for a thirsty-looking pot plant in one corner. A pair of wide panels stood against a wall and next to those was a tiny button, rimmed in gold. It took me a while to realise it was used to operate a lift.
‘Alright, let’s see … Department of Culture …’ Ma frowned at a large silver plaque.
I slipped my hand into Guo’s, feeling uneasy. After the busy, noisy traffic from the street, the giant foyer felt much too quiet.
‘It’s the fifteenth floor,’ Cap said and slammed the button on the wall. The doors to the lift slid open.
My stomach was doing flip-flops as we ascended oh-so-slowly. It felt much too cramped and I could feel the ground moving below our feet, which made me even queasier. Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, the lift stopped. I sighed with relief as we tumbled out into the vast corridor.
‘This way,’ Ma said, directing us towards a plain metal door. ‘Here we are. The Department of Culture.’
Guo gulped and I noticed again how nervous he looked. I did my best to give him a reassuring smile.
Ma took a deep breath and straightened her skirt before opening the door.
I was surprised to find us standing in a small reception area. I had been expecting something much fancier for a place as important sounding as the Department of Culture. Instead, there was just a young woman seated behind a drab-looking steel desk with another thirsty pot plant in the corner.
‘Hello, may I help you?’ The girl spoke softly, staring down at her hands on the desk. She seemed about Guo’s age and didn’t really look much like a secretary at all.
We stood in silence until Ma stepped forwards and cleared her throat. ‘Excuse me, miss, we’re here to see the commissioner if he’s available.’
Instead of answering, the girl looked up and tilted her head towards Guo. ‘Hey, do I know you? You go to South China University, don’t you?’
Guo’s face flushed crimson and he shifted on his feet. ‘Ah, sure. I’m a student there.’
‘That’s right. You’re in Professor Law’s class. I sit two rows to your right.’ She smiled and her whole face lit up. She was quite pretty. ‘Are you looking forward to classes starting again?’
Guo rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Uh, yeah. I – I guess.’
‘Me too,’ she said, nodding eagerly. ‘Commissioner Sun is my father. I’m helping him in the office over the holidays. I’ll see if he’s free.’ She stood up and flashed Guo another smile before disappearing through a door.
Guo stared, his face as red as a New Year’s lucky money envelope.
Ma’s smile stretched wide as she watched her eldest son. ‘What a nice young lady. And pretty too,’ she whispered.
Guo mumbled something and stared at the floor. Cap stuck a finger down his throat and made a gagging noise. I laughed.
Ma shushed us just as the girl stepped back into the room. She held the door to the office open. ‘He’s actually free now. You can go inside.’
We filed past, Cap and I trying to suppress our giggles. Ma gave us a stern look.
‘Thank you, Miss Sun, you’re very kind,’ Ma said sweetly. ‘My son is very lucky to have such a clever and pretty classmate.’
‘Oh please, call me Jing,’ she replied. ‘And your son is the clever one. He always has great ideas to share in class.’
My eyebrows shot up. The last time I’d seen Guo in class, he had been fast asleep and snoring!
Guo’s face went bright red again. ‘I guess I’ll see you in class,’ he mumbled, giving her a half smile.
Jing was suddenly shy. ‘Sure, I’ll look for you. See you later,’ she said quickly and hurried back to her desk.
Ma grinned again and then gently knocked on the open door.
‘Come in,’ a voice called from within. ‘I don’t have all day here.’
We stepped inside to find a short, chubby man with a head of thick grey hair sitting behind his desk. The office was full of filing cabinets and bookshelves that were crammed with binders. They looked ready to burst from the weight of information they held inside.
The man didn’t look up from the pile of paper on his desk as he gestured for us to take a seat. There were only two chairs for Ma and Guo. Cap and I stood on either side of them, trying to look serious.
Finally, the commissioner glanced up, surprised to find the four of us staring at him. His gaze immediately fixed on Guo. ‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’ he asked.
‘I … ah … go to school with your daughter,’ he murmured, his eyes on the floor.
‘Right, the Lin boy,’ he mumbled. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or disappointed to find Guo sitting in his office, but in the end, it didn’t seem to matter. ‘Well, what is it?’ he asked.
‘Commissioner,’ Ma’s voice was firm, ‘my family and I, we’re here to ask you to consider adding Daoling Village to the National Preservation List of Traditional Villages.’
If the commissioner was surprised by Ma’s direct request, he didn’t show it. He sat in silence for a
moment and then launched into what sounded like a well-rehearsed speech.
‘Ma’am, the national preservation list was finalised just last month and signed off by the minister of culture. It includes 1,500 villages across China, including 91 from the Guangdong Province.’ He crossed his hands, tucked them under his chin and leaned forwards on the desk. ‘These villages have met the list’s very strict criteria which includes preserving the authenticity, integrity and sustainability of cultural heritage.’ It was as if he were reading from a textbook.
‘Well, that’s what Daoling Village is,’ Guo chimed before I could absorb the commissioner’s words. ‘It’s a traditional village with a rich history in farming and agriculture. The residents there have been using traditional farming methods for generations.’ He inhaled deeply. ‘And now, our village is set to be demolished to make way for a freeway.’
The commissioner’s eyes softened. ‘You have my sympathies. It is certainly not easy when your hometown is under threat.’
Even though Commissioner Sun sounded quite harsh, I decided he didn’t seem too bad.
‘But unfortunately, as I have already mentioned, the criteria to be considered for the national preservation list are very strict and simply being under threat is not a good enough reason for the state to justify your village’s inclusion.’ He pressed his lips together in a thin line.
There was a long pause. ‘What are the criteria?’ I asked.
The commissioner sprung out of his seat and made his way over to a bookcase. He pulled out an over-stuffed black binder and began thumbing through the loose pages.
‘Number one,’ he said holding up a finger. ‘To be considered for preservation, a village should demonstrate the abundant presence of historic buildings. Or number two, a village should have rich cultural relics, including traditional art, sculpture or woodworkings.’ The commissioner held up a third finger. ‘Or number three, the village should have practices that reflect traditional agriculture.’ With that, he slammed the binder shut with a bang.
My head was spinning trying to take it all in. Ma pulled her glossy lower lip in between her teeth. Guo and Cap had matching furrows in their foreheads, deep enough to plant seeds.
The commissioner straightened and returned the binder to its place. His tone was low and serious. ‘Can Daoling Village measure up to the state’s exceptionally high standards?’
Nobody moved a muscle.
Finally, Guo swallowed and gave a firm nod. ‘I believe it can, Commissioner.’ His voice was strong and clear.
The commissioner said nothing for a while, turning from Guo to Ma. Cap and I held our breaths, trying to be as invisible as possible, not daring to move a muscle.
At last, Commissioner Sun nodded. ‘My daughter speaks highly of you and I have great respect for the teachings of Professor Law. If you’re as good a student as she claims, then perhaps your village is worth considering.’ He picked up the phone and I tightened my grasp on Guo’s fingers.
‘Jing,’ he said into the phone. ‘Please arrange for a National Preservation Committee inspection. We will pay a visit to Daoling Village early next week.’
Chapter Nine
‘Here they come.’
On the day of the inspection, all of the villagers gathered at the train station. As the train pulled in, the children from my local school held up colourful welcome signs and the martial arts school performed a special lion show. The drummers hammered out the beat as the lions danced, jumping and twisting through the air.
After our meeting with the commissioner, Jin had brought the villagers together to prepare a tour for the committee. Many villagers would be speaking, including Guo. Jin had given me a small part too and I had practised and practised every afternoon and evening until I knew it by heart; at least I hoped I did!
My brother had spent all night rehearsing too, but he still looked very nervous.
Jin came over and put his arms around us. ‘Well done, both of you,’ he said, squeezing our shoulders. Guo smiled and the two men gave each other a solemn nod.
Suddenly, the drumming stopped and the entire village held its breath as, one by one, the five committee members stepped off the train. They wore the same Western-style suits as Deputy Director Yu had. Commissioner Sun was the last to disembark.
It was time. On the teacher’s command, the schoolchildren bowed and then Cap and I stepped forwards. ‘Welcome to the traditional Village of Daoling,’ we cried, holding out our arms.
Jin offered the commissioner his hand. ‘I am Mr Wang, Guo’s stepfather. You are most welcome to our village.’
‘Thank you, Mr Wang, Mr Lin.’ Commissioner Sun nodded first to Jin and then to Guo. ‘We look forward to assessing the merits of your village.’
The other members of the committee nodded but didn’t speak, grasping their clipboards, and scribbling notes. They made no comment about the lion dance nor did they smile at the children with their welcome banners. My stomach twisted tight and I took hold of Guo’s hand.
Jin wiped the sweat from his brow. He was jittery, his hands trembling as they tucked his handkerchief back into his pocket. But then he cleared his throat and addressed the group. His rich, commanding voice filled the station. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, if you could all come this way.’ He directed them towards the station exit.
The rest of the village followed, like we were a part of a giant parade. We were all anxious, making note of the committee members’ every move.
When we were all gathered outside, Jin motioned to Guo, who took a step forwards and cleared his throat. ‘First, may I turn your attention to the unusual features of the Daoling Village Train Station,’ Guo said. He gestured overhead. ‘This station was built in the traditional Imperialist style,’ he said, pointing to the sloping roof that curved upwards at the ends. I was shocked. I had no idea my brother knew so much about buildings.
But Commissioner Sun seemed less impressed. ‘While the design is traditional, the materials used are from the modern era,’ he remarked. ‘Notice the steel brackets and support beams?’
Guo’s face turned beetroot red. ‘Oh, well, perhaps this is more an interpretation of the traditional style,’ he said.
I swallowed hard, watching the committee members writing furiously. There was no question that they were very, very strict.
‘Mr Wang, what is the meaning of this?’ a voice demanded. Deputy Director Yu came storming towards us, an angry scowl in place. His expression quickly changed to one of shock when he saw the committee standing with us.
‘Commissioner, committee members, what a surprise.’ The deputy director looked taken aback as he shook each person’s hand. ‘I’m Deputy Director Yu from the Regional Ministry of Urban–Rural Development. Forgive me for not coming to welcome you, but I was not informed of your arrival.’
‘Deputy Director Yu, it’s a pleasure,’ the commissioner said. ‘And no need to apologise, we feel very welcome.’
I smiled. It was the first sign of appreciation that Commissioner Sun had shown for the effort we had gone to. Maybe there was hope after all.
‘I see.’ The deputy director sounded displeased. ‘Pray tell me, what is the commissioner’s business here in Daoling Village? It would be my pleasure to assist.’
‘We are considering adding Daoling Village to the National Preservation List of Traditional Villages.’
The deputy director scoffed, his eyes narrowing. ‘Well pardon me, Commissioner, but that’s simply not possible. You see, this village is marked for destruction to make way for a new freeway. I can show you the plans. They’ll be approved any day now.’
‘Deputy Director Yu,’ the commissioner’s voice was firm. There was no question that he was of higher rank than the deputy director. ‘It is of great importance and in our nation’s interest to protect our unique and distinctive culture. Surely the regional ministry would support these critical
national measures?’ he said, arching his eyebrow.
The deputy director bowed. ‘Of course, Commissioner, the regional ministry would never stand in the way of such important state interests.’ Then he added, ‘That is of course, if Daoling Village is deemed worthy of such a distinction.’
The lump in my throat tightened. There was no mistaking the menace in the deputy director’s statement. We had to pull this off or we would lose everything.
There was nothing left to do but continue the tour. Commissioner Sun nodded at Jin and Guo to proceed. My heart was beating so hard that I thought the lions had started dancing again.
As we wound our way through the village, Guo paused now and then to point to some of the village houses. He talked about the mud walls that were similar to the earthen buildings of our Hakka ancestors. Once again, I was amazed by how much Guo knew. He had learnt a lot at university.
The committee members however, passed no comment and just took more notes.
‘And this here is our traditional market,’ Jin said as we came to the heart of the village. ‘It’s closed now, but on weekends, you’ll find local farmers and small businesses gathered here to trade and catch up. We share a true community spirit,’ he said quietly, his good eye glinting with moisture. A few villagers nodded in agreement.
Again, the committee members wrote in their clipboards.
Deputy Director Yu kept giving snake-like smirks as we continued on the tour.
‘This is the home of our local fisherman, Mr Yeung,’ Jin said. Mr Yeung’s house was about 100 metres from the muddy riverbank. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to imagine a huge concrete freeway tearing through the earth in this very spot.
Mr Yeung was waiting for us beside his boat with a supply of nets. He went through a fishing demonstration, explaining how he cast the nets into the river and hauled in his daily catch. ‘The same way that generations of fishermen in my family have done before me,’ he declared proudly.
‘What about cormorants?’ a committee member asked. Mr Yeung gave him a puzzled look.