by Hua Bai
she gave it a sudden bite. Withdrawing my finger intu-
itively, I raised my hand, pretending to beat her.
For the remainder of our journey, Longbu insisted on carrying Sunamei’s portrait on his back. He did not run anymore, nor did they continue with their dialogue singing.
3 4 3
Bai Hua.book Page 344 Friday, October 26, 2001 2:56 PM
When night came, we camped in a mountain valley. Suna-
mei and I lay under a row of small trees, sharing one
cha’erwa. The exhausted Sunamei slept soundly. But I could not sleep. With my eyes close to the ground, I watched
Longbu, who had not yet gone to bed. He first added fodder to the bags under each horse as they strolled along the river bank and then made a fire upstream from us. The flames
stretched his shadow long and large and swayed it over the grass. Sometimes it seemed to cover Sunamei and me completely and gave me a feeling of depression and horror. I did not know why he was walking around, with no intention of going to sleep. Finally, he sat down. Sometimes he blew on a tree leaf, and the emerging tune was sad, so unlike what I expected from a sanguine man like Longbu. How could
such a wailing, sorrowful sound come from such a robust
body? I took a look at Sunamei; she was sleeping soundly. I could not watch anymore. Things before my eyes started
blurring. Soon I saw Longbu stand before me, beckoning
Sunamei with a smile to sit up. After glancing at me, she extended her hands to Longbu. I wanted to scream. I wanted to stand up. Yet I had no strength and could not even utter a sound or move a limb as I helplessly watched Longbu lift Sunamei and carry her away. I desperately wanted to hit
myself, yet I could not raise my hand. I gathered all my strength to cry and scream. At last I let out a call: “Sunamei!” I sat up from the ground, only to find Sunamei still lying by my side. The day was already light. Opening her drowsy eyes, she looked at me puzzled.
The mist was floating on the small river, and by the riverside Longbu was calling to his horses.
3 4 4
Bai Hua.book Page 345 Friday, October 26, 2001 2:56 PM
It was already dark when we arrived at the
Youjiwa Village. As though several thousand years of
human history had not passed, at the moment that night
fell the whole village was shrouded by smoke and mist. All the people were inside; not even an idle dog wandered
about. Stars began floating on the tops of distant mountains and rising into the sky. When we came to the small road
inside the village, we at once saw light. A crowd of people holding torches rushed through the gate.
Sunamei, who had already dismounted, said quietly,
“Our family already knows we’ve arrived. Look.”
I wondered, “How did they find out?”
Sunamei said, “Well, people in the mountains have
their tricks. Some children have climbed the trees to watch for us.”
Before we reached the gate, a swarm of people, men and
women, old and young, like giants, snatched Sunamei away from me and then, like the moon surrounded by stars, she was escorted into the gate, leaving Longbu and me, horses, and baggage outside.
Unloading sacks and saddles, he chuckled malignantly, as if to say, “See – does Sunamei’s family take you for a man?”
While I was feeling lost, Sunamei and a big-bellied, beautiful woman came out of the gate. I guessed the woman must be her sister, Zhima. They dragged me into their front hall, called the yimei. The dim oil lamplight, flickering in smoke, seemed about to go out any minute. Although a huge crowd 3 4 5
Bai Hua.book Page 346 Friday, October 26, 2001 2:56 PM
of people had squeezed into the hall, in a minute they all sat in front of the fireplace with legs crossed in an orderly fashion. It is said that Mosuo people give priority to the right side. So the women sat on the right side of the fireplace and the men on the left. As an exception, I was placed by Sunamei’s side, perhaps because I did not know their tongue and needed Sunamei as my interpreter.
By the fireplace were all sorts of snacks: melon seeds, sug-arcoated popcorn, wine, and milk. There were more than
thirty people in Sunamei’s family, and every one of them tried to ask us questions. Sunamei couldn’t answer everyone; yet no one gave up. They vied with each other in shouting and gesticulating to catch Sunamei’s attention. Smiling
with tears of joy, Sunamei tried to hear everyone’s greetings and questions, but in vain. The noisy prelude lasted until Ami Cai’er stepped into the yimei, followed by Longbu carrying the presents we had brought in his arms and Suna-
mei’s portrait on his back. Ami Cai’er sat at the head of the fireplace and invited Longbu to sit in the first place on the male side to express their gratitude to him.
Longbu passed our presents – clothes, boxes of cookies,
and lumps of tea – to Sunamei, who in turn passed them
to Dabu Ami Cai’er with words of gratitude and love.
She cried, and so did all her family members. Although I could not understand Sunamei’s words, their open feelings moved me almost to tears. Dabu Ami Cai’er unfolded clothes and opened boxes of cookies and showed them
around. After that she packed them again and used the key only she had the right to use to open the closet in the back wall and store them inside. The closet had a square door just big enough for a person to crawl through. As if to lighten the mood, Dabu Ami Cai’er asked me something in the Mosuo language and Sunamei translated: “Ami is asking
you, I heard you Han men beat women at the slightest irritation, is that true?”
I answered, “Yes, there are men like that.”
3 4 6
Bai Hua.book Page 347 Friday, October 26, 2001 2:56 PM
Ami continued, “You must be careful! In our place,
women beat men, more fiercely than you Han men. They
strip them and beat them.”
Dabu Ami Cai’er’s words triggered uproarious laughter
all through the hall.
Sunamei whispered into my ear, “Ami is trying to scare
you. She is kidding. We Mosuo people do not fight.”
“I know.”
Dabu raised her wine bowl to me and more than thirty
others rose up to toast me. Through Sunamei, Ami said solemnly to me, “Our Mosuo yishe is the most harmonious yishe. All people of our line are not like people of other nationalities, who split over a needle. Even a hail of golden stones cannot knock our yishe apart. Although you are not a member of our family, because our kin Sunamei loves you
and chooses you, we all love you and choose you. We will treat you as well as you have treated Sunamei. Isn’t that true, Sunamei?”
Sunamei said sincerely, “Yes, Ami. He has treated me
very well. He always accommodates himself to me, like
an amu. ”
“Thank you.” Cai’er said to me, “Sunamei has been in the outside world, a Han place full of dishonesty and turmoil.
Because you have taken care of her, we can feel at ease now.”
Although she spoke in a gentle voice, her words thundered in me. She was so dignified. Her face was furrowed from
hard work, but every line revealed honesty, confidence, decisiveness, patience, and maternal severity and love. I wanted very much to draw a portrait of her, with the title “Dabu Ami Cai’er.”
She asked Sunamei, “Sunamei, is he an honest and kind
Han man?”
“Yes, Ami.” Sunamei’s affirmation thrilled me.
“You haven’t made a mistake, have you, Sunamei?”
“No mistake, Ami. He knows that a man should be hon-
est and kind, because he has suffered a lot in his life.”
3 4 7
Bai Hua.book Page 348 Friday, October 26, 2001 2:56 PM
“Ah!” Dabu took my hands and caressed them.
“My
child, suffering teaches a person wisdom.” This simple
maternal love soothed my soul, and I believe even my eyes turned softer.
“He is very intelligent,” Longbu said respectfully to Ami.
Taking the drawing folder from his back, he showed Suna-
mei’s portrait to Ami. “He finished it before one could
smoke a pipe of tobacco.”
“Oh!” More than thirty pairs of eyes brightened. Ami
took the folder. One look at the portrait and another at Sunamei, and she was all smiles. After looking at it for a long time, she passed the portrait around, saying, “Don’t touch it with your dirty hands.” After Sunamei’s portrait had been passed around, Longbu tidied it up in the folder and returned it to me.
After a couple of bowls of wine, Cai’er distributed food, soup, and preserved pork with a long ladle; I was given a share like everyone else. The eating noise like the patter of rain lasted for quite some time. Girls and boys watched me with inquisitive eyes throughout the meal because I was different from them, an inscrutable Han man who could draw.
At night, Sunamei and I stayed in her huagu. That little room had been a hazy scene in her love stories, but now it became almost too real. The fireplace by which lovers drank tea and wine was still warm, like all the times she had been with Longbu or Yingzhi. Only the big white cat was missing. The flames dancing on the wall formed with their dark shadows a waterfall of red and black fluid along the wall.
The red wooden trunk stood by the fireplace like a silent witness, its bronze lock grinning mysteriously. A wooden plank bed, no bigger than the one in my box office, was covered with an old straw mattress and two hand-knit black
wool blankets. Perhaps in the modern world no lovers
would meet in such a crude place. The Mosuo were not rich, but they could have made their surroundings cleaner and
more attractive. Material objects held little attraction for 3 4 8
Bai Hua.book Page 349 Friday, October 26, 2001 2:56 PM
her. Here in the huagu, the most important thing was one naked person next to another. I did not really want Sunamei to enter that huagu again, particularly to sleep there, because I would think too much and she would have too many
memories.
As if she had never left her huagu, Sunamei boiled tea and served me wine. She smiled tenderly and mutely, unbuttoned my clothes, blew out the lamp, led me by my hand to the bed, and laid me flat on it. Then, facing the fireplace, she slowly removed her head ornaments, bracelets, necklace, and clothes, piece by piece. I saw only a dark silhouette against the red flames. Every motion so shocked me that I felt like a voyeur. I was observing every detail and every line for somebody else. And my expectation was another’s expectation, and my sudden sexual urge was another’s impulse.
Like a tide suddenly ebbing, my desire deflated with a
shudder. Sunamei was surprised to see that I did not reach out to her. She lay beside me and said softly, “You must be tired.”
“Eh.…” I muttered ambiguously as I rolled over.
She bent over my back and said mysteriously, “Don’t you
want to see how young girls receive their axiao in the dark?”
“Not anymore.”
“All right.”
How could she know what I had thought and what I was
thinking? Believing I was tired, she stopped teasing me and soon was sleeping against my back, her mouth releasing
sweet air against my ear, a bit itchy. I lay awake the whole time. The huagu beyond the partition was originally Zhima’s, but, because she was about to deliver a child and had moved to the y imei to sleep by Cai’er, her huagu had been occupied by another amiji called Sheruo. I could hear everything happening on the other side of the partition clearly.
And I could imagine how much Amiji Sheruo and Sunamei
had in common. They were both sensitive and encouraging.
But Sheruo was much more sexually aggressive than Suna-
3 4 9
Bai Hua.book Page 350 Friday, October 26, 2001 2:56 PM
mei. I did not feel sleepy until the man in the neighboring huagu started snoring like a bull. And his snoring shook me several times from my dreams. It was hard to pass the night in a little huagu. I urged Sunamei to go back to town nearly every day. But she would not hear of it.
She took me to visit her childhood friends. During the
day, I could see more clearly that every Mosuo courtyard was too dirty for me to set foot in. Everywhere there was
manure, and the worn-out clothing of the children and the elderly seemed to have never been washed. Although beautiful girls wore beautiful clothes, their necks were dirty.
Supposing I had met Sunamei here but not in town: could I have brought myself to kiss her?
Sunamei took me to the mountains. In the woods where
she used to cut firewood, she searched for a string of glass beads she had lost at the age of thirteen. Of course, she was really looking not for those glass beads but for her childhood. Pointing to a row of little religious banners, she said secretively: once when she was small she had peed on them.
She had come down with a terrible headache that very night and had not recovered until a lama prayed for her. “Can I have a try?” I asked playfully. Her answer was to push me down the slope.
She took me to the riverside where, at the age of thir-
teen, she and other girls of her age had gathered. Apparently she was still cherishing the girlhood she had lost long ago.
Sunamei said, “I was so foolish then I did not even know why a woman needs an axiao and what he could do.”
In the shallows of the river, swarms of fish fry the size of grains of wheat swam on the surface. Sunamei caught several in her hands. She had not really lost her childhood yet.
Sometimes she even held one knee cupped in her hands and hopped on the narrow field path. Her undiminished passion for her hometown and her happiness in searching for her
3 5 0
Bai Hua.book Page 351 Friday, October 26, 2001 2:56 PM
childhood contaminated me eventually, and I no longer
urged her to go back.
One morning, on awakening we heard the cry of a new-
born baby coming from the yimei, along with the laughter of adults and the prayers of the daba. Someone was killing a chicken that was screeching its last. Sunamei cried with joy,
“Amiji Zhima has borne a child.”
After getting up, we went to the yimei. People surrounded the daba, watching him do his oracle. A tall, thin old man with a sallow face, he sat on the upper left corner below the fireplace, with two oyster shells pinched between his fingers. Murmuring incantations, he threw the shells into a wooden plate. Then, according to the direction of the fallen shells and the hour of delivery, he determined the name of the newborn. The shells pointed northeast, the
direction of the cow, so Daba named the baby Yimu, daughter of the cow. He stretched his hand to Zhima lying on a mattress by the fireplace. Zhima passed the child to him. He called three times to Yimu and Zhima and, bending over,
answered three times on behalf of the baby. He then smeared some butter on the baby’s forehead and wished her good
luck and happiness in an odd voice that scared the baby into crying. Out of curiosity, I touched the baby’s crumpled little crown. Dabu Ami Cai’er laid out twelve bowls of various
foods, but Zhima, who had no appetite, was greeting the
congratulating visitors with gentle, calm smiles.
That night, Sunamei brought Ami Cai’er to our huagu to inform me that Awu Luruo had come back from River Li.
“Tomorrow he will accompany you two to worship Jiumulu.
Before Daba leaves, let him go with you.” Sunamei told me that Ami had come to inform us, not to seek our opinion.
After Ami had left, I asked Sunamei, “What is Jiumulu? Is Jiumulu a god or something?”
Press
ing her lips into a smile, she said, “You will recognize it as soon as you see it.”
3 5 1
Bai Hua.book Page 352 Friday, October 26, 2001 2:56 PM
“Why do we need to worship Jiumulu?”
“Because Ami thinks I should have a child, now that
Zhima has borne one.”
“What’s having a child got to do with Jiumulu? We’re
newlyweds, aren’t we?” At once the unpleasant thought
occurred to me that she had associated with axiao long before leaving home, and Ami must have been counting
days from then.
“If Ami asks us to go, we have to go.”
Yes, Ami was also Dabu, the highest authority, so we had to go. I truly loved her as the head of the family, anyway, even worshiped her a little. So I might as well regard it as a field trip to collect folklore.
At daybreak, Awu Luruo had a brown horse ready. It was
our first meeting.
“Awu Luruo!”
Like an English gentleman, he touched the rim of his
bowler hat and said in Mandarin, “How are you?”
Wearing a long brown cloak, Daba held a sheepskin
drum in one hand and a drumstick in the other. Awu Luruo put Sunamei on horseback and we set out. Just outside the gate we heard three loud bangs from the neighboring yard.
“The apu of the Agupozhe family has passed away.”
Daba told Awu Luruo to hurry up, or the Agupozhes
would hold him back for the funeral. Now it was hard to
find a daba and even harder to find god images and religious instruments. Pulling the reins of Sunamei’s horse, Awu
Luruo dashed off like a stallion. Daba and I ran after them.
Once out of the village and onto the mountain path, Daba started chanting incantations to the beat of a drum. Sunamei told me what Daba was chanting: “A lucky woman is
coming. Please make way for her, all road-blocking mon-
sters and beasts. Please make way, a lucky woman is coming.
She is searching for her descendants, who are with the goddess. The goddess, having all her daughters and sons in Jiumulu, is waiting for her. Jiumulu waits for her, too.”
