Man lives poetically upon the earth.
——Heidegger
(Part One)
Our group set off from Kangding, rested briefly in Shade Township, and then hired a car to reach this small village nestled at the foot of Gongga Mountain —— Zimei Village.
7In the month of [month], during the rainy season in the Gongga Mountain area, the continuous green mountains were shrouded in mist, and the sky remained overcast for most of the day. Along the way, purple and yellow wildflowers spread out like carpets along the grassy verges, making us feel as if we were in a fairyland. Coupled with the sudden loss of mobile phone signal, we truly understood what a “utopia” meant.
Zimei Village is divided into Upper Zimei, Middle Zimei, and Lower Zimei, with three households in each area. After passing Zimei Pass, driving for about another hour will bring you to Upper Zimei. It takes roughly an hour to hike to Middle Zimei, while Lower Zimei is closer to Middle Zimei —— just a [number] minute walk away. During our one-week stay, we lodged in Uncle Gongbu’s yard, waking up early and going to bed early.10The rain in Zimei Village isn’t heavy, but it comes frequently —— once before getting up, once around lunchtime, and again in the evening. You’ll need to carry an umbrella or raincoat when going out. But if you’re lucky and an east wind blows through, dispersing the clouds and mist, you’ll be greeted by a Zimei unveiled in a completely different light.
Early in the morning, the sun had already risen quite high, and the distant snow-capped mountains were no longer a hazy blur but revealed their sacred golden glow. The distant green mountains, the small river, the nearby houses, and the cattle and horses were all clearly visible. Under the sunlight, the cold walls began to warm up, emitting wisps of white vapor. And the droplets lining the eaves fell one after another, resembling a curtain of water beads, which gradually thinned until they disappeared.
Walking ahead, there was a mountain path; if you looked carefully, you could spot a downward trail that led down to the river valley. There, a small stream meandered gently, with most of the stones in the water smoothed by time, while those above the water still had sharp edges. The stream twisted and turned, so to move forward, you had to hop from stone to stone. As the saying goes, if you often walk by the river, you can’t avoid wetting your shoes. Some of our group who waded upstream ended up with more or less wet footwear. I took off my shoes to keep them dry. But as soon as I stepped into the water, I felt how bone-chillingly cold the stream —— fed by melting snow —— really was, and knew I couldn’t stay in it for long. Trudging through the mud, ducking under or climbing over obstructive tree trunks, and climbing a little further up a gravel slope, the stream eventually merged into a rapidly flowing river. We found some rocks by the riverbank to sit on, chatting, listening to music, and watching the white waves and flowing golden light before us, as well as the distant green mountains and towering pine trees.
In the afternoon, we found a patch of meadow, surrounded by wildflowers and grasses, where everyone seemed to transform into little sprites of nature. Some stood, some sat, some lay down, some took photos, some listened to music, some threw their hats around. The distant snow-capped mountains stood silently, the clouds in the sky moved slowly, and the cattle and horses in the distance also stopped walking, standing still as if staring at something. It felt as though the whole world had narrowed down to just our little group and our laughter.
Due to the time zone difference, it didn’t get dark until around [time]. The dark forest exuded a sense of danger —— wolves and bears lurking, while the cattle and horses had already eaten their fill and returned to their respective grazing grounds. After dinner, we stepped into the yard, where a crescent moon hung in the sky, casting bright light that, in this nearly lightless village, outlined the shadows of houses, cows, dogs, and ourselves. The other half of the sky belonged to the stars. The Big Dipper hung low, almost touching the ground. Above, the Milky Way painted a milky-white streak across the pitch-black sky.
Because of an accidental injury, while everyone else went out to play, I spent some time alone. I found a rock near the fields, sat down, and started reading Walden. Occasionally, a few cows would pass by. Most of the time, there were only the swaying barley and potato leaves in the breeze, the ceaseless sound of flowing water, and the occasional crowing of crows. At times like these, Thoreau, who chopped wood and built his cabin by Walden Pond, no longer felt unfamiliar or distant —— he felt close and relatable.8Every day, we made our own fire, cooked our meals, and filled our stomachs. We wore enough clothes to keep warm, not caring too much about what we wore each day. As for a place to sleep, having a windproof shelter was already a great comfort. Coming here made it easy to understand what the basic necessities of life are and what the lifestyle of our ancestors was like.
Farming vegetables, herding livestock, gathering wild plants. Were it not for the rise of tourism in recent years, this might well have been the main way of life for the people of Zimei Village. Picking radish leaves from the garden, tilling the soil and weeding. Cutting grass and herding on the meadows, milking the animals. Heading up the mountains to dig for mushrooms and cordyceps. A way of life passed down through generations, unchanged for hundreds of years.
On the last day, we got up very early, walked along the valley for over [number] hours, and arrived at Wajiao. After getting into a vehicle and traveling for another hour, we regained mobile signals from various carriers —— officially leaving Zimei and returning to the world of modern life.
Heidegger once said, “Man lives poetically upon the earth.” Each place shapes its people, and people also shape the environments they live in. With the opening up of Zimei Village and the implementation of government policies, the village seems to be on the brink of change. Its future remains uncertain, but it is undoubtedly in the hands of its youth.
Fortunately, we came while it was still unchanged.5After more than an hour, we arrived at Wajiao, got on the vehicle, and after another hour, received welcome signals from various mobile carriers — officially leaving Zimei behind and returning to the world of people.
Heidegger once said, "Man dwells poetically on this earth." Each place shapes its people, and people, in turn, reshape their environment. With the opening of Zimei Village and the implementation of government policies, the village seems to be on the brink of change. Its future remains uncertain, but it is undoubtedly in the hands of the younger generation.
Fortunately, we came while it was still unchanged.