Daytrip to Zhao An

Getting to Zhao An

Step-dad woke me up at 0510 because he thought I should have been up for my daytrip to Chan Village in Zhao An.  But I had taken care of my wake-up time with an alarm for 0545.  I took a taxi to the bus station.  With the ride only taking five minutes, I had over half hour waiting till the 0700 departure.  That gave me time to buy some snacks in lieu of breakfast.

The bus circled Xiamen’s other stations before leaving the island by bridge for the mainland around 0800.  The bus took the non-motorway route and got me to my Zhao An around 1100.

Most passengers disembarked outside the station but I continued to the actual station, fearing that I may not be at the final destination.  A man outside the bus looked like he was waiting for someone.  It turned out to be Uncle Poh Tiang and another uncle.

Chan Village

They took me to Chan Village about half hour away.  We communicated as well as we could in a mix of Mandarin and Hokkien, both of which I do not speak well.  For the latter, I had to put on a Zhan An accent which I’m not accustomed to, whereas in Xiamen I had to put on the local accent there which I’m marginally better at.  I speak a with a very bastardised accent which is unique to Kuching on Malaysian Borneo, yet again different from the accent in Penang, the rest of Peninsular Malaysia and also Singapore.

At the entrance to Chan Village was a brown tiled pillar which had its name 田厝村 (Tián cuò cūn).   We drove round to the back of the village for the vehicle entrance where there was also a nice public park.  The village comprised of historic single-storey homes plus new 2-3 storey ones with tiled facades with chrome fittings that are quite typical in China.

Uncle Poh Tiang took me to his home, which was also my paternal great great grandfather’s home when he was in China (rather than in Borneo) and until his death.  The entrance now also serves as a small convenience store.

The house didn’t look that old as it has been tiled over but one can see the old wooden doors and stone doorframes.

I was introduced as “Tua Pek Kong’s son”.  Tua Pek Kong would be the title they give to my father, something like grand uncle but for Sarawakians, it is also a Chinese god after whom many temples are named.  I felt somewhat special as the son of god today.  Everyone around me was my “Ah Chek” meaning uncle on one’s father’s side.

They fed me a light snack of sweet siew mee (long life noodles) and tea before taking me to the “Si Tng” or ancestral hall.  It was a beautiful old building in need of much TLC.  The altar had been confiscated by the government during the cultural revolution but the family managed to get it returned.  The backdrop of the altar now has a Mao mural instead of the usual ancestral photos or name plaque for ancestral worship.

The relatives brought up the subject of financial contribution to the maintenance of the ancestral hall.  I said I would help out in conjunction with a relative, Lek Lim, based in Kuching.

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Poh Tiang had spent his younger days in Borneo and had a smattering of Malay words in his spoken Hokkien language, eg. jamban (toilet) and tahan (withstand).  Strangely he didn’t undersand tapi (but) whereas Siok Kheng in Xiamen does.

They took me for lunch in the upstairs of a local restaurant.  There were about ten of us and about the same number of dishes.  Half of the dishes were dry and half were soupy.  Being Chinese banquet style, no rice was served.  A dish that stood out was called silverfish. It is more like whitebait or ikan bilis (Malaysian anchovies), deep-fried in a batter somewhat like onion bhajis.

Over lunch I learnt that common people earn about CNY2 (NZD0.40) per hour!

After lunch, they took me to the coast where fishermen were based.  Shellfish was also being cultivated here, an activity that was started about 13 years ago.  The area also had shrimp ponds and water-gates for filling and draining the ponds.  From here, we continued to my paternal great great grandfather’s (Chan Kho’s) grave nearby.

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From walking around the village, it became obvious (as in Xiamen) that old buildings are considered ugly while tile-and-chrome abominations are admired.  I certainly hope that my remittance towards the ancestral hall will not be used to modernise it beyond recognition, as they have already done with Chan Kho’s house.

We got dropped off and Poh Tiang took me back to his house again.  I was given tea, oranges, dried longan etc as gifts for Mum.  He offered to take me back to Xiamen so he could personally meet Mum.

Returning to Xiamen

The relatives organised my return back to Xiamen by phone.  Being the holiday season, there were difficulties getting a seat.  Even at the roadside pick-up point, there were still issues.  I boarded the bus and was given a plastic stool in the aisle near the back of the vehicle.  I appeared to have been charged more than the normal fare but I guess this is truly supply-and-demand in action.

I chatted to a couple from Zhao An.  They say that when they’re in Xiamen, people there don’t understand their Zhao An Hokkien accent.  But they understand the Xiamen Hokkien accent.  I guess it’s quite normal for the rural people to understand the mainstream or city accent because that’s the accent adopted by the media.  But city people can’t be expected to understand (or aren’t exposed to) the multitude of regional accents.  They find my accent easier to understand than the standard Xiamen accent.  In Malaysia, our ears are used to a multitude of accents and our brains can process all of the variations!

The journey back to Xiamen took 2h plus another 30 mins in local traffic around town.  I met up with Mum and step-dad for a simple dinner of beef noodles.  While the flavour was nice, the beef was tough.  Mum didn’t like the “pan” type of noodles which I love as they’re quite starchy and filling.

We walked around to absorb the atmosphere of this seaside island-city.  I got an ice-cream as a night cap. Strangely, a good quality ice-cream stick here is cheaper than a simple cone at McDonald’s.  In New Zealand, it is very much the opposite!