I received your letter and learned that you are going to my hometown, asking me to give you some guidance. To be honest, my hometown, the place I truly cherish, is not there. However, because I grew up there and lived there for more than ten years, I do know a little about the situation, so I am writing this letter to tell you. What
I want to tell you is not the local customs and culture, which are inexhaustible in writing, but you will understand when you go there, so there is no need to elaborate. What I want to talk about is something very interesting, namely, boats. In your hometown, you usually take rickshaws, trams, or cars, but in my hometown, none of these exist. Except for sedan chairs used in the city or on the mountains, the common mode of transportation is by boat. There are two types of boats. The most common are the black-awning boats, while the white-awning boats are mostly used for sailing. Taking a night boat to Xiling is particularly interesting, but it is inconvenient for you to take one, so I will not mention it. The larger black-awning boats are called Simingwa, and the smaller ones are rowboats, also known as small boats. But the most suitable are the "Sandao," that is, the Sanmingwa. The awning is semi-circular, woven from bamboo strips, with a bamboo leaf in the center coated with black oil. Between the two "fixed awnings" is a sunshade, also semi-circular, made of wood with latticework inlaid with small fish scales, about an inch in diameter, somewhat transparent, resembling glass but tough and durable; this is called a "bright tile." "Three bright tiles" refers to two in the middle cabin and one in the aft cabin. The stern is equipped with oars, usually two, and the bow has a bamboo pole for anchoring. The bow is decorated with eyebrows and eyes, resembling a tiger, but seemingly smiling, quite comical rather than frightening, except for the white-awning boat. The height of the three awnings is enough for you to stand upright, and the cabin is wide enough to fit a square table for four people to play mahjong—you've probably already learned how to do that! The small boat is truly a flat-bottomed boat; you sit on the bottom mat, the awning top is two or three inches from your head, and you can rest your hands on the side rails, even letting your hands protrude. Sitting in one of these boats feels like sitting on the water itself. When you get close to the shore, the mud gets right up to your nose and eyes. And if you encounter wind and waves, or if you're not careful, the boat can capsize, causing danger. But it's also quite interesting, a unique feature of the water towns. However, you don't have to go on one; it's better to take one of the three
traditional boats. When you go out by boat, you can't be as impatient as you would be on a tram, eager to arrive immediately. If you're going out of town, it's a 30-40 li (15-20 km) journey, so you'll need to prepare a whole day for the next day. When you're on the boat, you should approach it with the attitude of a sightseeing tour, looking around at the mountains everywhere, the tallow trees along the banks, the red smartweed and white water lilies by the river, the fishing huts, and all sorts of bridges. When you're tired, you can sleep in the cabin, take out your notebook to read, or brew a bowl of tea. I enjoy the area around Jianhu Lake, Hejia Pond, and Hushang near the side gate. Alternatively, you could ride a donkey to Lougongbu to visit Lanting (but I advise you to walk; donkey riding might not be suitable for either of us). Entering the city at dusk through the East Gate, adorned with ivy, would be quite an interesting experience. If the journey is not smooth, you can set sail for Hangzhou in the afternoon; the scenery at dusk is the most beautiful, though unfortunately, I've forgotten the names of all the places in that area. Sleeping in the cabin at night, listening to the sounds of water, oars, passing boats, and the barking of dogs and crowing of roosters in the countryside is also quite enjoyable. Hiring a boat to the countryside to watch temple operas is a great way to experience the true charm of traditional Chinese opera. On the boat, you can move freely, watch when you want, sleep when you want, and drink when you want—I think that's an ideal way to enjoy yourself. It's a pity that these theatrical performances and welcoming ceremonies have been banned since the Reform Movement. The incompetent middle class have built "Shanghai-style" theaters in places like the "Cloth Industry Guild Hall," asking everyone to buy tickets to watch Shanghai's cat shows. You absolutely mustn't go to these places. If
you come to my hometown, I'm afraid no one will recognize you, and I'll be too busy teaching to accompany you on a leisurely evening boat ride or chat. I'm truly sorry and saddened. Mr. and Mrs. Kawashima are now at the foot of Mount Cheng; I could have introduced them to you, but by the time you arrive, they'll probably have already left their hometown. Early winter is here; take good care of yourself. Best regards.
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