Finding something doesn't mean that we were looking for it, nor does it intend that the object was lost.
Oh the element of surprise in finding something we never knew, nor imagined! That is the element of traveling that I appreciate the most.
Serendipity moments!
Meeting people!
The sense of depth that everyone and thing is connected… finding a link to the moment at hand that takes me forward confidently into the next.
That is the key…finding something new, while traveling, that I love.
French Husband and I set sail on the bamboo raft towards a village that a waitress at the restaurant mentioned picturesque. Unfortunately, or serendipity we mispronounced the village's name and landed at another one instead. We got off the raft not knowing where we were.
Each of us travels differently. French Husband likes to travel with maps, guide books, (though this part of China, his map could be described as a plain piece of paper.) he stops at real estate agencies, enjoys walking around without "a must see" or "must do" agenda. He can travel for weeks with less than he can carry in his pocket: Which makes him adaptable… he doesn't care where he sleeps, or if there is hot water, or where we eat. He is mindful that he is a guest in a foreign land.
Luckily for me, he lets me lead the way.
French Husband and I travel well together. Which makes the wrong turn, the change of no plan, the unreadable menu, the lack of makeup or a bruised foot an easier stride. I like to talk to people, admire the babies, stand in awe, and more than anything take the unbeaten path.
The other day when we got off the raft in a town that we thought was going to be picturesque, we didn't have a map, nor any idea what to expect other than it might have some old houses.
An older woman was standing by a makeshift stand selling water and some sort of homemade snacks. As we sipped some of the water we bought from her we saw a dirt path going across a field, and another path going into the village. The older woman pointed to the dirt path, then waved her arm in its direction as if to say go that way.
So we did.
We followed the dirt path into the fields, which followed the river, leading us into the countryside. Oxen, farmers, soft sandy soil which made French Husband question whether it would be good land to grow grapes and made me think about the rice fields in Willows.
We walked deeper and deeper into the endless fields. Farmers; mostly women toiled the earth. Watching them I was struck how hard they worked, and yet how comfortable, content… peaceful they seemed. Was it their spirituality that kept them centered? Was it the teachings of Confucius? It appeared that honor was attached to their labor… My thoughts searched for something I could not put a finger on.
Their work, as well as the many who do hard labor in China seems to be more than just a needed job, or putting food on the table, or making money.
These thoughts have stayed with me throughout China….
After walking through the fields, we walked back to town. The buildings were old ( I couldn't imagine living in them even though I like old peeling things). Surprisingly, the doors and windows were opened, even though it was cold outside. The interiors were empty of decoration or comfort, incense burned at the entrances, and other leftover reminders of the New Year's gave color and the evidence that someone was living there.
Inside and outside of the houses stood fans at different stages of development.
Large fans, handmade from beginning to end.
To be continued……..
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