Bride of the Moso Prince

by Lucy Yam

  “All right. To be honest with you, sister. I want to know whether you’ve decided to go home with me.”

  “No, I’m not going to leave before August.” Charlene said without hesitation.

  “You’ve been living here for ten months. What difference does two months make in your research?”

  “A big difference! July and august are the busiest tourist season. I dislike tourists, but I’ll get to observe the impact tourism has on the villagers’ life.”

  “Nothing good, I can tell you.” Sharon remembered what she had seen the day before.

  “Maybe, but maybe not. I need to see it.”

  Sharon sighed. “In that case, Charlene, there is no reason for me to stay. I should probably leave in a day or so.”

  Charlene wasn’t happy to hear it. She said sulkily, “We haven’t been together for such a long time and you can’t even wait to leave.”

  Sharon bit her lip. She wanted to stay with Charlene too. But she couldn’t imagine what would happen if she stayed even a day longer. “There is nothing for me to do. You’re being taken good care of.”

  “Didn’t you bring your work with you?”

  “Yeah, but it’s hard for me to concentrate... I mean this place being so beautiful and all I want is to look at the lake or go swimming. I guess I’m not as self-disciplined as you’re.”

  “You could just settle for a vacation. Look at the lake and swim! Being idle for a couple of days won’t kill you.”

  Sharon sighed. If she stayed for a couple more days she would be ruined. Something imminent was happening to her and it would go beyond her control soon. Her life would turn up-side-down. If she didn’t get away quick she might not get away whole. But she couldn’t tell Charlene about it. “I might be bored to death.” She mumbled.

  “I could take you to visit people’s houses if you want. You haven’t been to a real traditional Moso house yet. You haven’t seen the village.”

  “Well,” Sharon considered. She hadn’t come to see the village but was somewhat curious about how people lived here.

  Charlene wasted no time. After lunch she took her sister in to Algae Village.

  As soon as they turned to the main road Sharon could see houses scattered between the corn fields again.

  “I’ll take you to see Namu’s grandmother Naruma, who is a hundred and two years old, and the oldest woman in the village.”

  “Grandmother of Naruma? Does it mean that she was…”

  “Yes, she was the first lover of Nobul’s grandfather the chief.”

  Sharon’s eyes beamed. She would love to see Naruma indeed.

  When they passed a store on roadside Charlene went in and bought a bottle of rice wine and a bag of tea-leave-bricks, saying that those were traditional house visiting gifts of the Mosos.

  They came cross a house with a huge yard on their way. Its beautifully painted roof and intriguing wood fences caught Sharon’s eye.

  “Want to go inside?” Charlene asked her.

  “Sure.”

  It sounded like a construction was going on from the drilling and hammering noises they heard from the gate. And indeed, the yard was covered by of saw dusts. There were about a dozen men inside, sitting in chairs or on the floor, drilling, scraping, and chiseling on what looked like doors and windows.

  “Are they building a new hotel?” Sharon asked curiously.

  “Well, they’re making building materials that would be used in some hotels in the future.”

  “So what’s this? Some sort of a factory?”

  “Exactly,” Charlene nodded, “it’s Nobul’s wood-carving factory.”

  “Oh!” Sharon’s expression changed from curiosity to nonchalance, “So it really exists. I thought you were joking.”

  “Why would I?”

  Charlene said hi to everyone as they walked through the place, stopping occasionally to chat. Sharon was amazed by the intricate pictures that were being created around her. She had thought that out of all forms of artistic creation, embroidery was the one that required most patience. But now, seeing how painstakingly the workers were making tiny strokes with heavy tools, she knew she was wrong.

  The end products were displayed indoor in a warehouse. There were doors and windows that looked similar to the ones she saw in the hotel, but there were more. There were tables with chiseled tops, and chairs with chiseled backs, chiseled mirror frames, etc. Charlene told her that most of them were special orders from hotels in Lijiang.

  Sharon stopped in front of a giant piece of work that was supported by a stand next to a wall. It was a 3D picture, portraying a pair of lovers in Moso costumes meeting under a pine tree, and behind them was a lake and mountains. A sickle moon that hung in the sky indicated that it was at night. It was grand and meticulous at the same time. On the floor there were even shadows of pine branches casted by moonlight.

  As she was admiring the work Charlene came over and gasped. “Wow, he did it!”

  “Who did it?”

  “Nobul. I saw him starting it when I first came. It’s for his museum and it tells the love story between the Goddess of Lioness and the God of Dragon.”

  “You mean the one about Gemu filling the gap with her tears?” Sharon recalled the story that Nobul had told her during the boat ride.

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “I uh, Nobul told me about it.” Sharon mumbled.

  Sharon felt vexed at the mentioning of Nobul and wanted to walk away in an instant. But her eyes were fixed on the woodcarving, and her legs were glued on the ground in front of it. He did it? That insensitive, unsophisticated, fish-catching, potato-digging, women-chasing mountain playboy? Sharon refused to believe it. But it wasn’t hard for her to imagine him sitting here in front of the panel, hammering, scraping, brushing…The thought dispelled the grudge she was holding against him. Unknowingly she reached out to feel the surface of the woodwork, and the contact thrilled her.

  “Are you ok, Sharon?”

  Started by Charlene’s voice, Sharon withdrew her hand and said shrugging, “Yes. Unbelievable. He doesn’t look like an artist.”

  “That’s because you don’t know him yet. You’ll see. He’s a talented guy.”

  “How come there is no woman working here?” After they had left the factory Sharon asked her sister.

  “Well, sadly, artistic creation is a Moso man’s privilege by tradition.”

  “Well it makes sense to me,” Sharon said, “since it’s a matrilineal society, women do most of the labor work and men had to do something to spend their leisure time.”

  “That’s a good one,” Charlene laughed, “but the tradition holds in patrilineal societies as well. In most of the male centered indigenous cultures men spent majority of their daily lives to make adornments out of stones or feathers.”

  “No kidding? Why is that?”

  “I’m not sure. But my guess is that men have to make themselves pretty to get women’s attention.”

  “Well I like that.” Sharon laughed.

  “Yeah. It must also be the reason behind the fact that until but last century, painters, architects, fashion designers were mostly men all over the world.”

  “No doubt about it.” Sharon smiled, “Sis, you’ve got to publish that theory.”

  They took a path through the cornfields. It was the same path that led to the dance lot. Sharon tried not to think about the last time she had treaded through and it wasn’t hard. During the day and without the music of the flute, the place looked very different. It was simple and rustic, without any danger or mystery that she had felt the other night. Log houses scattered on the other side of the cornfields. Behind the mud enclosures of the yard, they could hear the gurgles of chicken and grunts of pigs.

  They stopped in front of a house marked by a shady pear tree with a cow napping underneath it. Without a knock, Charlene pushed open the heavy wooden door. A yellow dog rushed to them and barked, but Charlene calmed it. “Huang, how are you? Long time no see!” She sa
id to the dog while petting it. The dog, however, insisted in sniffing Sharon before letting her pass.

  “Everyone is probably still out working, that’s why the house is quiet,” Charlene said to Sharon as they walked towards the living room. “And I hope Naruma isn’t resting. Sadama told me that she wasn’t feeling well lately.”

  Just as they were half way across the yard Namu came out of the house and greeted them. “Summer and Snow! How nice of you to come!”

  Holding Charlene’s hand, Namu asked, “Are you recovered?”

  “Yes, thank you. I just want to show my sister the largest Moso family and the oldest Moso woman. Is she resting?”

  “She’s tired of resting all the time and would be thrilled to have someone to talk to. I’m afraid you don’t get to see a big family today. My uncles haven’t returned from the mountains. The kids are still in school. My aunts went to town and my cousins have just gone out for algae and grasses!” Namu looked apologetic.

  “That’s fine,” Charlene said, “I miss Naruma and my sister also wants to meet her. Here we brought some gifts.”

  “Thank you so much. Come on in and be careful with the threshold. It’s high!” Afraid that she might trip over it, Namu took Sharon’s hand as she stepped into the house.

  Sharon couldn’t help but feel embarrassed in the presence of Namu. After all, Namu and Nobul might walk-marry soon.

  They went into the living room, which was faintly lit by a skylight and the fire in the hearth. Sitting and smoking by the hearth was Naruma. Her face wrinkled like a sun dried jujube, and her eyes bright like the hearth next to her.

  “Come sit down!” She held her pipe with one hand, and beckoned them with another.

  Namu brought them sunflower seeds and tea.

  For a long time, the old woman stared at Sharon as she sucked her pipe.

  “Mine! You reminded me of someone.” She said finally, shaking her head, “and some bygone feelings.”

  Sharon knew what she was talking about. The Empress again. The old woman must have resented the marriage between the chief and the Empress?

  She felt sorry to have reminded Naruma of her sorrow, and decided to pretend ignorance of the topic.

  But Namu asked curiously, “Who does she remind you of, grandma?”

  Hoping to avoid the topic, Sharon responded lightly, “Oh really?”

  “Who else? That Moso Empress!”

  Sharon had no choice but responded, “Well, Sadama said the same thing.”

  “If she said the same thing then my eyes haven’t betrayed me.” The old woman measured Sharon up and down again, and said in her tobacco roughened voice, “from head to toe. Your eyes, your nose, your chin, especially your eyes. She had those proud eyes that made you feel shorter than her, even though she was as tall as a dwarf. And she was as skinny as a bamboo pole. I didn’t know what the chief saw in her.”

  Sharon tried to stifle a laugh. It was obvious that the old woman was still jealous of the Empress.

  After she had sucked the pipe for a moment, Naruma spoke again, “but later I knew. That girl might be small, but she was tough. I thought she wouldn’t last. Born in a wealthy family, tasted the best delicacies, learned all the books, and spoke poetry, how was she going to live the life in mountains, feed on potatoes and bacons, among uneducated peasants? I was counting the days and waiting to see her run away. Hell, she did last. A year, two years, ten years…When she was put to that reformed farm years later I thought I wouldn’t see her again. She hadn’t done any labor work and couldn’t possibly survive the harsh life there. So for fifteen years we didn’t hear news about her and we thought that she had died. But then one day she came back, like a ghost! Older, but tougher, kneeling on the ground when she paved the roads, climbed on the walls when she painted the houses… like she had been born to do that and nothing else…”

  When Naruma finished talking Sharon saw nothing but admiration in the old woman’s eyes.

  “That old head, always had his luck with women.”

  Sharon couldn’t hold her laughter any longer. To her relief, Namu and Charlene also laughed.

  “See, you were jealous of the Empress!” Charlene smiled, “and you denied it last time.”

  “I wasn’t!” Naruma coughed, choked by the smoke, “otherwise I would take care of her daughter when she was away. But I had problem with all his other women, they were all worthless. Look at the children they bore him. He could have made better use of his juice on me.”

  Namu and Charlene giggled again. And when Sharon realized what ‘juice’ meant, she giggled with them.

  “She’s not bragging,” Charlene said to her sister, “Naruma’s family is known for their beauty genes.”

  “No doubt about it!” Sharon nodded and looked at Namu. She wondered at that moment: how does Nobul feel about this Moso Beauty?

  “But Sadama is different. She turned out to be a beautiful girl… and her boys are fine. That Nobul is a killer, very much like that son of a bitch.”

  Namu was still giggling when she asked the old woman, “Are you saying that my grandpa was handsome?”

  “What a question! If he weren’t handsome why would I go to bed with him?”

  Naruma’s enraged look and her frank answer made the young women giggle again. She herself also laughed, “Forgive me. Even though I’m a hundred and two years old. I still remember those trifles from youth. Memories don’t go away as you age. Instead you live on them… Help yourself with the flower seeds. We had a good year.”

  She urged Sharon and Charlene, and then her eyes lingered on Sharon again,

  “Ah, talking about Nobul, I’ve just gotten a peculiar premonition.” Her eyes never left Sharon’s face as she spoke, “History might repeat itself…if I’m right about it…may goddess help you, Namu!”

  “Grandmother!” Namu protested. But the old woman shrugged, still kept her eyes on Sharon.

  Sharon shook her head and decided that there was no need to be reserved with the frank old woman. “Naruma,” She said, meeting the piercing eyes of the old woman, “I’m very much flattered by being compared with the late Empress, but I’m not her, and I’m not interested in her grandson either.”

  “You see, the same pride, same spirit,” the old woman laughed, “I like it. But don’t be so sure of yourself, young woman. Being a hundred years old, I can see things that you can’t!”

  As the old woman let out a puff of smoke, Sharon tried to read her fortune in the white curls that she imagined being the strokes of the character “fate” in Chinese.

  The next day Sharon was able to do some work.

  At dinner Charlene said to Sharon, “Now you have a reason to stay. We’re going to have visitors tomorrow. The Ethnic Cultural Conference which I had missed because of my vertigo closed yesterday and a bunch of people decided to come here. My advisor, Dr. Lewis and Dr. Yang from University of Beijing are coming here tomorrow and the rest of them including my friend Becky will come the day after. They will have a scenery conference for a couple days.”

  “What does it have to do with me?” Sharon had met some of Charlene’s school friends at a party. They were all well-behaved, smart kids, but all they would talk about were theories and hypotheses, which Sharon had little to say.

  “You can help to entertain them.”

  “But they have the whole village for that purpose.” “Come on, Sharon. Dr. Lewis can’t speak Chinese and Dr. Yang doesn’t speak English well. I would be really busy talking, don’t you think?

  Sharon sighed. There goes her plan of leaving early. But somehow she was not entirely disappointed.

  Dr. Lewis and Dr. Yang arrived in the morning the next day. Dr. Yang was in his fifties. He had small statue and grey hair. Under a pair of gold rim glasses, his small intelligent eyes gleamed. He was wearing a blue shirt and grey cotton pants and looked serious. Dr. Lewis however, did not look like a college professor at all. Although his blond hair was turning grey, his blue eyes were enormous and he had
a boyish look about him. He was skinny and tall, wearing a black T shirt with a picture of primate evolution in white printed in the front, and the letter “Darwin” printed on the back. Under his skinny leg blue jeans, he wore a pair of pointed toe boots. Sharon guessed that he couldn’t be more than forty. He was handsome, and a bit ‘cool,’ but she couldn’t detect any “brilliance” that according to Charlene, had been responsible for the adoration of numerous female students, herself probably included.

  The professors were restless. As soon as they had arrived they asked Charlene to take them to visit the village. Under Charlene’s request, Sharon went with them. The houses were more or less the same as Naruma’s. In fact, according to Charlene, all the houses in the village were built to the same plan.

  In the afternoon Charlene suggested that they should go hiking in Gemu mountain and see the famous Gemu Cave. The two professors were delighted by the idea, and so was Sharon.

  There was a hiking trail along the lake, newly built by the villagers, to benefit the tourists and hikers in the region. Having a fantastic view on the side, it was hard to keep one’s eyes looking straight ahead while walking. The lake was not just a lake, but contained a whole copy of the world around it, including the turquoise sky, the silver clouds, and the pine green mountains. Islands floated in the middle had the company of their own reflections. Even the sun was admiring itself in the lake. Some villagers were gathering algae on boats, cheerfully singing and laughing. On the far end, Gemu the goddess was looking over them.

  Breath-taking, Sharon thought as they went, greedily absorbing the scenery. Then she spotted Empress Island and her fragile content was all destroyed. Nobul, where on earth was he? Sadama told them over dinner that he had gone to Lijiang for a new contract. It had been more than two days already, wasn’t it time to come back? And why was she expecting that jerk to come back at all?

  What a paradise!” Dr. Yang, who hadn’t talked much, suddenly exclaimed when the four of them were resting on their way. And after awhile he composed a poem:

  The mountains embrace the lake,