Island of the Vast Deer

Today is Sweeping of the Tombs Day in China, which for us means a three day weekend. Our good Chinese friends (they live in our complex and the children go to the same school as ours) invited us to go with them to this remote island while they paid their respects to the grandfather who is buried there. We didn't know what to expect, but it sounded like an adventure. It was an hour taxi ride to the port and then an hour and a half by boat to the island. When we got there, a man in an army uniform raced up to us and demanded to know where the foreigners were from. He barked the response into his phone and ran away. We didn't know what to make of it at the time. We went to a mountain top Buddhist temple that overlooked the ocean. Next to the temple was a small (but very deep) lake that had been dammed up to supply water via an aquifer to the valley below. Because our friends go to this island about 3 times a year, they have made connections. They always use the same husband and wife taxi drivers while they are there. Our taxi driver, who took us around the island while our friends went up the mountain to the cemetery, wanted to take us to his home to meet his family. It is a huge honor to see rural Chinese families in their homes, something I had hoped for, but not certain the children would see. They had livestock and a large garden in their front yard. They all slept on wood beds (no mattress) that are heated with coals from the cooking fire. Our kids, especially Addison, made friends with the daughter.

This island relies on aquaculture for its livelihood. The island is completely surrounded by seafood farms about a quarter of a mile from the coast. At high tide, the men take their hauls from the floating farms to the shoreline. At low tide, the women go out and sort through the nets, with the large scallops, conchs, clams, etc. going to market on the mainland. We stopped to talk with two of the many woman hard at work. Even though this is a very tough life with long hours and little time off, they seemed to be content, with the task being social as well as necessary. When we showed up for dinner on Saturday night, we were surprised that others had joined our party. The father and daughter of our taxi driver were there as well as another man that I hadn't met. It became apparent during the meal that this other man was important, as everyone was taking turns toasting this man. Our host asked me to give a toast, but I had no idea who he was or what to say. I stuck with the generic "this island is so beautiful; the people are kind hearted; we'd like to come back again with our friends and family". During a break in the meal, Mark had a chance to fill me in. As it turns out, this man is the mayor of the island (so my toast was appropriate after all)! He wanted to be there to meet us (explaining the mysterious phone call at port), as we were the first foreigners to visit the island since before "liberation" in 1949. The kids were entertained by all the delicious seafood (separate blog) and of course, by each other.