The thistle canal flows through the entrance of our village. This side of the river is Tangshan, Hebei, and the other side of the river is Tianjin Baodi. A row of tall poplars stands upright, and some hold one or two nests.
Where there is a small earth bridge now, two shabby boats were moored decades ago for the use of people coming and going. The water in the canal dried up in some years and flooded in others. When it is dry, plant corn and soybeans on the riverbed. Whether we can get a bumper harvest is only a farmer's bet. When there is a flood, put the old willow and poplar on the bank in the middle of the water. A group of magpies stood at the top of the tree and looked down. Two men cast a net on the river.
The villages on both sides of the canal are crowded with red tile low houses. On some nights in those years, the river crept over the village. At dawn, I pushed open the backyard door, and the earth became a mirror with the moon and trees reflected in it. Then, a fish jumped out of the water and smashed all the shadows in the mirror. It was even brighter, and I saw three or two crabs of different sizes crawling on the threshold. The water gradually recedes, revealing smelly land, some dead fish and rotten shrimp, or some crab legs.
The people on both sides of the river have been friendly for generations, regardless of region. The small village on this side of the river was the boundary of Tianjin many years ago and was later allocated to Hebei Province. No matter how it is divided, people on both sides of the river walk the same way. Even in those years when the bridge was flooded, people were still in the same boat. Let's get married. The ferryman by the river has a red envelope in his hand and a wedding banquet in his mouth. Sitting on the boat, the young man grabbed the paddle, and he was finally relieved.
This is how my mother-in-law got married. After marriage, the family became a frequent visitor to the thistle canal.
Needless to say, it was a rainy day and there was mud on the earth bridge. Two bicycles are carrying an old man, a young man and three children. Hold on to them, lest you accidentally fall into the river. Therefore, my parents-in-law have long educated them to know water and not to be landlubbers.
My mother-in-law remembers most when she was a child. Her family is poor, and the whole village goes out to beg. The Japanese set up watchtowers on the banks of the river, completely treating themselves as masters, fishing from the thistle canal, roasting them on the fire, and sometimes cutting raw fish into pieces to eat. People are always ready to fight. Later, there was a general in the village, who was especially good at fighting devils.
When the Japanese left, they returned to the thistle canal, and people went to the river to cast nets and fish. It is common for the whole family to go out together in hot summer. Gradually, men and women separated, like rushing to attend a grand event. It turned out to be a bath. The men took off their shirts and jumped into the water one by one. The women flushed and led the children forward without looking up. Only when there are trees on both sides of the river in the distance do they stop and slowly descend into the river.
2
This small village depends on the thistle canal. Behind the village, you can see the river winding away. On the other side of the river is Tianjin Baodi, and people can often be seen herding sheep on the shore. There is an electric car parked by the ridge, and someone is playing with a fashionable scarecrow in the field. There is a boat in the river, the engine is rumbling, and there is a man dragging a long net at the bow. My mother-in-law said it was not from our village. After the fishing in the wild sea stopped, there were no special fishermen in our village. I have seen Hai Ye's boat. I dragged it home from the river, and the four tires installed at the bottom of the boat had not been removed. When the boat was placed in front of the house, the iron on the boat began to rust and the wood had cracked, like a fish lacking water on the shore.
Haiye has lived in the Jiyun Canal for decades. Earlier, every family went fishing in the river, especially during the summer flood, when fish rushed down from the upstream in droves. Some fish may be too tired to swim and rest in the weeds in Repulse Bay. As a result, they became people's food. Fish paste cake and fish stewed kimchi are both excellent delicacies. Hai Ye said that there are at least forty kinds of fish and shrimp in this river.
Later, the villagers used their brains to get rich and started to set up various factories and run their own businesses. The more so, the more people miss the fish in the thistle canal. When everyone was pursuing the dream of getting rich, Haiye became the last fisherman and took fishing as his career.
When selling fish for the first time, he put the fish in two big baskets in the back seat of his bicycle, and his heart was full of worries. He is hesitating whether to sell it to a collection 20 miles away or 30 miles away. As a result, I was stopped as soon as I entered the village. Two baskets of fish had been sold out before I left the village.
From then on, after catching fish, he went into the village and shouted "about fish!" " "People took out small pots from home. A mahogany weight is always held high, and he feels a little guilty when others give him money, scooping up a spoonful of small fish.
I followed my mother-in-law to see him selling fish, and people lined up. Someone picked the big crucian carp in the basket, and he stopped him, saying that the daughter-in-law who didn't go through the door in the west of the village was coming, and it was a big deal for the children to get married, so the big fish should be given to their family. Just as I was admiring Hai Ye's thoughtfulness, he took a canned bottle from the handlebar. Half a bottle of water was shaking and several fish were swimming around in it. He handed it to his mother-in-law and said, play with my grandson who came back from the city.
After several decades, Haiye insisted on riding his bicycle to the river and getting off the net early. When the villagers' chimneys were smoking, he came back to catch people for dinner during the day. He doesn't catch much fish every day, and he never fishes a lot because of weddings and funerals. Under such circumstances, he even introduced people from other villages to the fish pond. People lamented that he was rigid, but he laughed without saying anything. Even when the labor cost soared and he could earn 200 yuan a day in the factory to go to 300 yuan, he kept this rhythm. I quietly looked at the water in the thistle canal that day. It moves very slowly, even making you think it is still, but it finally melts into the sea at such a speed. Suddenly it feels like this river and Haye.
But Hai Ye said that he didn't want to catch any more fish, and his leg was suffering from severe rheumatism. The villagers don't eat the fish in the thistle canal, and there seems to be something missing in their stomachs. Haye, as a villager, finally broke the umbilical cord between him and the Jiyun Canal, and no one can know from him which kind of fish is breeding more this year. Young people want to be fresh, so they throw nets every now and then, and when they come out, they give the fish to everyone. Only Hai Ye doesn't eat fish. He often squats in front of his house and stares at the boat that has accompanied him for many years. He spit out smoke rings like a fish in the offshore.
three
Mother-in-law's milk is 85 years old. Her favorite food in this life is corn porridge, plus small fish and pickles. She smiled, revealing rosy gums and only one front tooth left. Speaking of the past, her silver hair swayed with her body like a reed in the wind. She said, I married in this village and made a net mat. Zhang Shun, his grandmother in the village, saw that I could knit four summer sleeping mats a day, and told everyone that I had mastered this craft from the womb. My mother-in-law said with a smile, this is true. My family is in the village next door, and generations have made a living by making summer sleeping mats. Who told us that we were born in a "weaving nest"?
"Woven mat nest" is the laudatory name of this area, which is attributed to the reeds that can be seen everywhere on the bank of the thistle canal. After growing up, pieces of reeds were put down by the villagers and became materials for making mats. After a series of processes, mats with different patterns can be woven. The men in the village gathered the woven mats together and ran out to find their way before dawn. Hundreds of miles away, there are merchants selling summer sleeping mats. They can sell all kinds of mats directly to other provinces.
My mother-in-law's house is Baodi across the river. When introducing the object, her father's eyes lit up as soon as the other person said it was "making a nest" It is said that marrying in the past can not only lead a good life, but also learn to knit seats and have a skill, so that you will not be so hungry all your life. My mother-in-law is a skilled person, but she is still not as good as her mother-in-law in weaving seats. Mother-in-law wets the crushed reed with milk, and when her hand touches the reed, it will produce a kind of magic. For so many years, no one can surpass her in speed. In that era of eating the same pot, grandma was a cook who earned work points, which made many people jealous.
Weaving mats earned hard money. When my father-in-law pushed the roller hard and pressed the reed, it suddenly occurred to him that life could not go on like this. He walked straight along the road of the thistle canal, and then he ran to the northeast. After coming back, he transformed the wing of the front yard into a factory building and organized workers to set up a plastic factory.
Later, villagers also went out one after another, and various factories in the village rose from the ground. Mostly plastic factories and clothing factories. After a period of time, due to various problems such as poor management or funds, some factories closed down one after another, and the loss-making bosses were not discouraged. They went to work in the factory that is still running, made a lot of money and lived a comfortable life.
My mother-in-law misses the time when she made up a mat. One year, she trotted to the canal and looked at the reeds with the same bald head as her, showing eager eyes. We had to cut a small bundle back. I used to give my mother-in-law a hand addiction. As a result, my parents-in-law are very busy. The mat is woven and put on the kang. Everyone who came into the room praised it as beautiful, but her mother-in-law kept shaking her head and said, no, no!
It seems that I am afraid of living up to the good name of "making a summer mat". There are even people in the village who make up summer sleeping mats, and one of them is my husband's primary school classmate. He not only knits mats, but also reeds curtains. It is said that semi-mechanized production has been realized, and that these products have been exported abroad.
For a time, I was full of interest in this village, just as I just got married here and they asked around about my hometown of Shanxi. I kept exploring their lives and taking pictures of a broken mill. Walking along the road, I saw an old woman who presented her four children as backpacks for college students. I carefully studied the big pimple on her back and the faint smile that floated on her face forever. When the equipment of the plastic factory rumbled, I sat on the stones in the street, listening to them amplify their voices and talking about the old days floating over the village.
four
Compared with the tableland where my hometown relies on the sky to eat two thousand miles away, this village by the thistle canal is undoubtedly a treasure. Located in the plain, it is not easy to have a big flood, and because of the nourishment of the thistle canal, there are abundant underground water sources. On my wedding day, my mother and relatives went to yanhe village. After years of drought, she was deeply attracted by the river. She couldn't help rolling down the window and letting the wind by the river dry her tears, and finally determined that I had married a good place.
I am not the first foreign daughter-in-law. Girls from Guizhou, Northeast China, Guangxi and Hunan have already married in the village, and some have lived here all their lives. Two of them heard that they were brought here by traffickers, and they also learned to knit seats like other women here after marriage. Because the neighborhood is harmonious and life is relatively rich, people in bad business suddenly feel lucky. Many years ago, southerners dressed in national costumes were often seen shuttling through the village where their parents used to live. Now, their local accent has long been erased and replaced by a mouthful of Tangshan accent.
Unlike other rural areas I have visited, young people are always eager to work in other places. People who go out to work occasionally will come back soon. In the village, although the labor intensity is greater, as long as the family is diligent, it is not a problem to earn 10 thousand yuan a month. They are guarding three big tile houses and a small courtyard, and their lives are very satisfied.
In our family, my father-in-law drank a little wine three times a day, and after drinking it, he remembered his pride: he was the first in the village to open a factory and buy a motorcycle. At that time, riding a motorcycle across the Jiyun Bridge was many times more conspicuous than the current BMW. But now, he is content to be a happy old man. Together with his mother-in-law, he planted a large piece of bamboo at the door and all kinds of vegetables and flowers in the yard. When the sun is fine, mother-in-law feeds them with her milk. My father-in-law loves calligraphy and writes on the floor tiles all the year round. Sometimes when you pass by the dirt road in the yard, you will step into the Tang poetry. Those bamboos are getting thicker and thicker, and his handwriting is all over them.
On snowy days, the thistle canal has been frozen, and adults take their children to skate and play sledge. Laughter seems to penetrate the ice, so that the fish at the bottom of the river can hear it. My father-in-law went early. At that time, the world was vast, and my father-in-law with frosty temples kept breathing hot air after practicing a set of fists. Holding a dead bamboo in his hand, he wrote on the snow by the river: "Count the romantic figures and look at the present".