Wanbao's Potato Journey: Grandma Finds the Answer to Happiness

Text/ Zheng Naizhen

"How come I never hear you say you're going to plant potatoes?"

"When you plant potatoes, first step one foot into a hole, put two or three potatoes in the hole, then use your foot to cover the potatoes with the soil beside them. Then step into the next hole..."

"The potatoes have to be covered well with soil, otherwise the birds will eat them."

"How long do your potatoes take to harvest? I remember it's four months, right?"

"Did they tell you how long it takes for them to sprout?"

"Potatoes grow in the soil because the scabby-headed Emperor Hongwu, Zhu Yuanzhang, gave the order..."

"That scabby-headed Emperor Hongwu was once under a chinaberry tree when a chinaberry fruit hit him on the head. He cursed: 'You wicked thing, you will die before the New Year.' And sure enough, from then on the chinaberry really does die before the New Year..."
.........

Ever since I told my grandmother that I was going to Wanbao in Miaoli to plant potatoes, I was flooded with a torrent of questions, along with her treasured memories. Whether related or not, she would grab me and talk nonstop. Before planting peanuts, I had already planted watermelon in Wanbao, and even then my grandmother took tremendous interest in my working in the fields, asking me every time she saw me how the watermelons were growing. This time, with the potatoes, her enthusiasm was even higher, because she had planted them before, and she had so many, many experiences to talk about endlessly. Seeing how excited she was, I casually said, "Then next time I'll take you along."

"Great!"

My grandmother is already 95 years old this year. A few years ago she broke her thigh bone in a fall, and after surgery she could no longer walk well. Since then her willingness to go out has grown less and less, and for the past year or two, apart from going to restaurants for major holidays, she has hardly left the house.

In fact, taking her out requires a great deal of effort: carrying the wheelchair, bringing her walking support, and when dining at a restaurant, checking whether the place requires going up or down stairs, and whether our seats and the restroom are on the same floor. Besides, she moves very slowly; a restroom that is just a few steps away for us takes her about ten minutes to reach, and sometimes restaurant restrooms are cramped, which is really inconvenient for her. Out in the countryside she can only sit in one spot and cannot move around much.

Yet sometimes, seeing how stifled she was at home, we tried to think through all the problems, decided everything was workable, and eagerly invited her out, but she always refused on the grounds that it was too much trouble. Going to the fields means no air conditioning, no one waiting on you, and facilities that are neither advanced nor comfortable; by our reckoning, it is even more inconvenient for my grandmother. Unexpectedly, this time she agreed so readily!

"When are you going again?"

"It'll be another two weeks, I think!"

"Have your potatoes sprouted?"

"I don't know! I haven't been to see yet."

"How come they haven't sprouted after being planted so long?"

"Grandma, I mean that after planting them, I haven't been to the field yet, so I don't know whether they've come up or not. I think they should have grown by now, right?"

"Then when you go, I want to come along and see how big they've grown."

After I promised to take my grandmother to the field, she counted the days every day and constantly reminded me that she was going to the field, as if warning me not to fool her; she remembered that I had promised to take her.

Finally the day came for the second trip to the peanut field. That day I asked my mother and aunt to help carry my grandmother to Miaoli. Coming out of Longyun Temple, the sun blazed and everything sparkled. When we reached the field, because of the drop in height between the road and the field, my grandmother could only sit in her wheelchair and watch everyone go down into the field. A classmate brought a bamboo hat to my grandmother, and she was so happy! She kept praising the girl for being so kind. The farmers also chatted warmly with my grandmother. Sitting under the strong sun for about an hour, my grandmother neither complained of heat nor asked for water. Seeing everyone busy and happy, she was overjoyed too.

My grandmother complained to Teacher Zhang: "Oh my, how come this field is so low! It should be filled in higher, so you don't have to worry about water pooling, and then leveled out flat, with no need for ridges, which could increase the cultivated area..."

Actually, although this was my grandmother speaking from her past experience, I knew what she wanted to say even more was that it was a pity the field was so low. Looking at the distant yet familiar potato seedlings in the field, how she wished she could walk down there herself, embrace the soil that had accompanied her through most of her life, and stroke the crops she had once tended with her very life~~

At noon we returned to Longyun Temple for a meal, and Auntie Hong Xiang warmly hosted us. My grandmother loves soft sweet potatoes, and she ate a lot of candied sweet potatoes, sweet potato ball soup, and drank sweet potato tea. She also praised the fried rice noodles as delicious, and the various organic vegetables had her singing their praises. Normally my grandmother does not eat much, but that day she had a big appetite. My grandmother was truly so happy, so content~~

Thinking back, we once tried to use our own way of thinking, hoping my grandmother would accept "modern" entertainment. Yet as my grandmother grew older, these upscale restaurants and cuisines, wild and exciting amusement parks, lively karaoke, and so-called healthy outings into nature all felt out of place to her. She could take no pleasure in them, and was even more at a loss with these novel entertainments.

This time, coming to Wanbao, she returned to the environment most familiar to her, where she could tell the stories most familiar to her. Here she could talk freely, and she felt she was a useful, valuable person. She could tell her descendants about her life, about everything of hers. I think this was the greatest driving force and reason behind her clamoring to come to the field!

Who says the countryside has no value? Perhaps its value measured in money is low, but the countryside holds even more intangible treasures: life, nature, the earth, human warmth, and more. It soothed the lonely heart of an old woman, and gave her the smiles and joy that we had never been able to buy.

It turns out that contentment does not require grandeur and delicacies, and happiness does not need money spent freely or material things piled up.

Coarse tea, plain rice, enjoying human warmth,
Gentle breeze, waves of rice, soothing the heart's field.

Wanbao, thank you. Here, I gave my grandmother the contentment and happiness that belonged to her.