The trip to Tangmo was actually an accident, because Wang and his brother had originally planned to visit Tangyueh, another village in the northwest of She County and famous for its seven memorial arches.

When they arrived there they learned that the wife of Li Hsien-nien, the Communists' "Vice Premier," had brought along a flock of aides and officials to visit the arches, and the general public wasn't allowed in, so they decided to look in at the neighboring village instead, which happened to be Tangmo.

It was a crisp fall day in early September, just after a shower, and the yellow dirt road was spotted with puddles. As they followed the road beside a winding stream, they came upon a lovely little pavilion and decided to park the car and approach the village on foot.

Walking past green fields that stretched as far as the eye could see, they came next upon a memorial arch overgrown with weeds. The inscriptions on the arch showed that it had been erected during the Ch'ing dynasty (1644-1911) in honor of two local scholars, brothers who had achieved success in the highest imperial examinations.

Along the road to the left was a pond and a dilapidated old summerhouse, which they found out was built long ago by a wealthy merchant. He had built it in imitation of West Lake, a gift to his mother, who had always dreamed of visiting West Lake but was too old to make the trip.

Farther along was the town's ancestral hall, an indispensable part of any traditional Chinese village, but now abandoned and used as a stable for cattle.

Through an arched gateway, they finally entered the town itself. A stream ran through its center, crossed by wooden walkways and flanked by rows of buildings housing grocery stores, a barber shop, eateries, clothiers, and the like. A covered walkway provided a place where the villagers could gather to rest and chat. The town's design was harmonious and charming, but the buildings were in an appalling state of disrepair.

Before such a scene, the visitors hardly knew whether they should lament the dilapidated condition of the buildings themselves or be grateful that, thanks to decades without construction, the spirit of the village has been preserved as a whole.

Where the name of this moving little village came from--whether it is related to the T'ang dynasty (618-907)--no one knows; we only know that the region still has many buildings from the Ming and Ch'ing dynasties.

Without the benefit of modern architectural planning or impressive stylish theories, one or several anonymous Chinese craftsmen centuries ago fashioned the vital lines, the public spaces, and the spiritual corners of this beautiful little village. No wonder an eminent architectural scholar describes these ancient craftsmen as "singers of nature": profoundly versed in the natural world and steeped in culture, they used their rich spirit to create such a lovely, harmonious work of art.

Regrettably, ever since the end of the Ch'ing dynasty, the Chinese people have felt that the old traditions are an impediment to modernization and must be rejected and destroyed. Ending up as a victim of political struggle, the traditional culture was completely devastated during the Cultural Revolution.

"Everything was wrecked, but what did we get in return?" Wang Chen-hua points out that since it was reopened to the outside world, hundreds of thousands of tourists have flocked to the mainland--to see what? The face of the "New China"? Clearly not. What draws them are the vestiges of the old tradition.

Today the calls on the mainland for "total westernization" are growing ever louder, and young people are eager to "cast off the burden of the old" and pursue the model of Asia's "four little dragons." Their attitude is understandable but cause for some concern. Let's not forget that Taiwan, itself one of the four little dragons, is paying a price for its economic prosperity in terms of environmental pollution and cultural philistinism, the same as the Western industrialized countries.

Dare we hope for this kind of an idyllic place--a Tangmo of pavilions, ancestral halls, clear streams (wasn't the Thames once a "dead" river?), neat little houses with clean white plaster and repaired roofs and walls, and complete appliances and furnishings inside (don't they manage to do it in Europe?).

Is there really no common ground between the modern and the traditional? After returning from Tangmo, one would hardly think so.

[Picture Caption]

A stone lion beneath the memorial arch.

Sketch Map of Tangmo Village

The roadside pavilion (above); the memorial arch (center); the pond and summerhouse (below).

White-walled houses nestled in a verdant stretch of rice fields--the village as seen from the summerhouse.

(Above) The Hsu ancestral hall has declined into a lumber-room and cattle stall. (Center) The pair of archways on either side of the stream is the village's true "front doors." (Below) Running water and wooden footbridges give Tangmo the nickname Water Street Village.

Villagers relax and chat on the covered walkway next to the stream.

(Above) The walkway is the village's "entertainment district." The characters by the door on the left read "television viewing room." (Center) As the brothers headed back at noon, women could still be seen washing clothes in the stream. (Below) The characters on the memorial arch read, "Brothers and Hanlin Scholars."

Is there really no common ground between the modern and the traditional?

Sketch Map of Tangmo Village.

The roadside pavilion.

the memorial arch.

the pond and summerhouse.

White-walled houses nestled in a verdant stretch of rice fields--the village as seen from the summerhouse.

The Hsu ancestral hall has declined into a lumber-room and cattle stall.

The pair of archways on either side of the stream is the village's true "front doors.

Running water and wooden footbridges give Tangmo the nickname Water Street Village.

Villagers relax and chat on the covered walkway next to the stream.

The walkway is the village's "entertainment district." The characters by the door on the left read "television viewing room.

As the brothers headed back at noon, women could still be seen washing clothes in the stream.

The characters on the memorial arch read, "Brothers and Hanlin Scholars.".

Is there really no common ground between the modern and the traditional?