North Country Kids

From 1988 to 1993, I accompanied my mother on several visits to her family in mainland China, at a place in the countryside near Tianjin. The most carefree people I met on those visits back home were the children! In my book My People, I once described children thus: "Children live in the present tense. They do not have adults' recollections of the past, nor their expectations for the future. Their world is one in which one can only actively take part; there is no room in it for wait-and-see." Looking back, this description really seems rather too optimistic. Who can say that the world children inhabit is not at the mercy of adults?

And yet the children of these northern villages are as direct and uncomplicated as the north country itself. Their heavy accents and natural simplicity emphasize how deeply they are rooted in this land. Again and again, their behavior fascinated me. These straightforward, good-natured children are no silver-tongued orators, so why not let them tell us about themselves through the lens of the camera!

The charmer on the bridge

On a little country bridge, I met a crowd of joyful children on their way back from playing out in the fields. Chatting idly with them, I asked which of them was best at school. In an instant all of them were pointing in the same direction, as they shouted like a string of exploding firecrackers: "Him! Him! Him!" This is when I saw this handsome little fellow appear in front of me with all the poise of a film star. After he had answered all my questions gracefully and courteously, with a cultivated air, he dashed off like the wind along with his playmates. To this day, I still think of him and wonder whether he will have the opportunity to develop his talents, or whether he will be swallowed up by the same dusk which falls like a curtain over the broad land....

The little herdsman

One evening I saw this youngster leading a little donkey out to pasture. The donkey was taller than the boy, yet it followed meekly wherever he led it. I begged him to let me take his picture, but he ran hither and thither like a little sprite, pulling faces and refusing to cooperate. But once I had finished setting up the camera, to my surprise he suddenly stood still in front of the lens, gave me a mischievous grin-and then ran off, waving his long stick in the air. Luckily, at that "decisive moment" I managed to get this photograph, otherwise you would never have seen the lovable appearance of this little herdsman, or his exquisite runny nose.

Siesta

The main dining room of the little restaurant was full, so that when our group arrived unannounced, we had to eat in one of their inside rooms. On entering, we were surprised to find a little boy fast asleep on a bed in the room. He was the eldest grandson of the family, doted on by young and old. Every now and then, his grandfather or grandmother would break off from their hard work in the kitchen and look in to see if he was still sleeping soundly. When we had eaten and drunk our fill and were getting ready to leave, the child was still snoring away, quite oblivious to our raucous chatting and laughter.

Lord Bigbowl

"Lord Bigbowl" is a phrase formerly used in Taiwan to describe a big eater. While dining at dusk one day, I suddenly noticed these two "Lord Bigbowls" eating outside our doorway. The children's little hands were tightly gripping rice bowls bigger than their own heads. Stark naked, their noses running, they were eating in serene contentment. For them,the years of famine which their grandparents' generation lived through are far distant. "Eating is more important than the emperor"; these Lord Bigbowls' air of indifference to any intrusion filled this well-clothed, well-fed adult with admiration and envy.

The "Little Ancestor" at the inn

Compared with girls, boys in Chinese rural society have many privileges. The little boy in this picture has three older sisters, but was still able to sneak his way into this world thanks to his parents' belief that "of the three forms of filial impiety, the worst is to be without issue." Friends and relatives use the nickname" Little Ancestor" t o describe this lucky lad, who is the center of unbounded devotion. Whenever guests are invited, the Little Ancestor's three sisters have to help on the sidelines, but are not allowed to eat at the table. In mainland China, a bottle of Pepsi costs at least one or two RMB, but if it will make the Little Ancestor happy, his father, who only earns RMB100 or so a month, will buy him one without so much as wrinkling his brow. As the Little Ancestor makes the most of all his privileges, does he realize the great mission he is taking on: to keep the incense burning in memory of his ancestors?

The guardian of the apples

This boy's mother had left him guarding the apples she had bought, while she went off again to buy something else. The little sentinel was watching over the fruit with great devotion to duty, and treated my camera with marked suspicion.

I went up to him to try and gain his confidence, but he suddenly leapt to his feet, pressed his half-eaten apple into my hand, picked up the basket and bolted. He was just afraid I was after his apples.

The girl in the kitchen

Actually I had come to photograph this little girl's father cooking. That day there was a celebration in the girl's family (her aunt was getting engaged, and the fiance's family was coming with gifts), so the whole household was busy preparing to receive their guests. It was the first time the little girl had seen a photographer at work, and filled with curiosity, she refused to leave, instead fetching a chair and sitting down right in front of me to get a good look at whatever might come out of that strange black box.

The warm winter sunlight bathed the rice-straw kindling in gold, and the swirling steam and bustling people created a tremendously lively ambience. We two "idlers" became surreally detached onlookers to this industrious scene.

The baby girl

This baby girl was only three days old. In the countryside giving birth in hospital is still not common, and this little girl was helped into the world in the depths of the night by a midwife. As well as following the old custom of not allowing outsiders into the room to see her, the girl's grandmother wrapped her up tightly in swaddling clothes for fear of her catching cold. Nonetheless, the baby's relatives could not suppress their curiosity, and came hurrying from all around to take a look at her. Everywhere, under the plastic sheet and under the baby's pillow, one could see the money given by her elders in celebration of her birth.

This little girl had not yet opened her eyes to look at the world, but her mother had already shed many tears, both publicly and privately, for having given birth to a girl.