Chaozhou Impressions Day 4: Three Villages—Fort, Megaphone, Maze & “Have You Eaten?” | 25 Sep 2022 скачать в хорошем качестве

Chaozhou Impressions Day 4: Three Villages—Fort, Megaphone, Maze & “Have You Eaten?” | 25 Sep 2022

25 Sep 2022, Chaozhou. The tropical blue sky and cotton clouds continued their performance—unreasonably beautiful. Even the roads to the villages felt like trailers: rice paddies on both sides, a narrow cement path threading between them, a helmeted rider on a motorcycle leading the way unhurriedly. Like a film‘s first long take, gently ushering us into this world. The first village was a fortress. A walled settlement from the Ming or Qing dynasty, still inhabited. Mottled stone walls, ancient banyan shade. Old and new coexist—within the walls, the scale of another time; beyond them, two- or three-storey detached houses. Three children, not jumping rope but linking ropes into a chain, hand in hand, singing and running between the fortress and the giant tree. They weren’t playing a game; they were the game itself. I pressed record, hoping to store this frequency of carefree joy into the autumn of 2022. The second village was a number. Said to have taken root here since the Song dynasty. An elder picked up a megaphone, his voice booming: “Three brothers, three branches. Each branch—over ten thousand people!” A few sentences, and centuries of flourishing lineage became tangible data. Clan is not an abstraction; it is ten thousand, and ten thousand, and ten thousand more. I stood amid the amplified voice, as if listening to time introducing itself through a census. The third village was a labyrinth. Alleys intertwined; I lost my bearings. At a corner stood a small Earth God shrine. The couplet read: “Gaze upon—the World.” I was pondering this phrasing—from the local soil to the cosmos, rendered in such concise parallelism—when a local approached and spoke to me at length. I was lost. My companion translated, smiling: “He asked, ‘食未?’——Have you eaten?” Have you eaten. In the depths of this maze-like village, before an Earth God shrine with “Gaze upon the World” inscribed on its pillars, the first words offered by a Chaoshan native were still this most earthly greeting. Eyes on the world, feet on daily life. I smiled. Yes, I’ve eaten. Where do we begin to understand a piece of land? From the laughter of children running through an ancient fortress with skipping ropes linked as chains; From the “ten thousand people” shouted through a village elder‘s megaphone; From that “Have you eaten?”—unintelligible yet instantly understood—at the labyrinth’s turning. Short-term fieldwork often ends where long-term gazing begins. I don’t know what these fragments will eventually grow into—perhaps a visual ethnography, a set of field notes, or simply a video someone stumbles upon years later and smiles at. That would be enough. Because understanding a land never requires a final answer. It only requires returning to it, again and again. #古村落 #活态遗产 #潮州 #广东 #潮汕 #慢下来看世界 #人间烟火 #应该从哪里开始了解一片土地 #发现生活发现美 #电影感 #台湾电影 #热带 #小森林春夏秋冬 #治愈 #小镇故事 #把生活拍出电影感 #听见你的声音 #AncientVillages #LivingHeritage #Chaozhou #Guangdong #Chaoshan #SlowDownSeeTheWorld #EarthlyLife #WhereToBeginUnderstandingALand #DiscoverLifeDiscoverBeauty #Cinematic #TaiwanCinema #Tropics #LittleForestFourSeasons #Healing #SmallTownStories #LifeAsCinema #HearingYourVoice #WanderingWithYeJun #YeJunsWorld #NotesOfAWanderer #WhereToBegin 2022年9月25日，潮州。热带蓝天白云持续上演，好得不像话。前往村落的路上，风光已是预告片：两旁的稻田夹着一条水泥小径，前面有人戴头盔骑摩托车，不紧不慢地领路，像电影的第一个长镜头，把我们慢慢引入这个世界。 第一座村，是城堡。 明清遗存的围寨，至今仍有人住在里头。石墙斑驳，榕树垂荫。新旧并置——寨内是老时光的尺度，寨外是两三层的独栋新房。三个小孩不跳绳，把绳子牵成链，一个牵一个，在城堡与大树之间唱歌、奔跑。他们不是在玩游戏，他们本身就是游戏。 我按下录制键，想把这无忧的频率存进2022年的秋天。 第二座村，是数字。 据说宋代已在此扎根。村中主事的大叔拿起喇叭，声音洪亮：“三兄弟，三个房头，每个房头一万多人咯！”寥寥数语，把几百年的人丁兴旺喊成了可触摸的实数。宗族不是抽象的概念，是一万、一万、又一万。 我站在喇叭声里，仿佛听见时间在用人口普查的方式自我介绍。 第三座村，是迷宫。 街巷交错，走着走着便不知身在何处。拐角处是一座小小的土地神龛，左右对联写着：“放眼，世界”。我正琢磨这副对联的写法——从乡土望向寰宇，竟是这样简洁的排比。这时，一位本地人走来，对我说了一长串话。我愣住，听不懂。随行的工作人员笑着翻译：“他问你，食未？” 食未。你吃饭了吗。 在这迷宫般的巷子深处，在“放眼世界”的土地公面前，潮州人递过来的第一句话，依然是这人间最朴素的问候。放眼世界，落脚日常。 我笑了，点头说食了食了。 我们可以从何处开始了解一片土地？ 从孩子牵着跳绳跑过古堡的笑声里； 从族长喇叭里喊出的“一万多人”里； 从迷宫转角那句你听不懂却瞬间懂得的“食未”里。 短期调研的终点，常常是长期凝视的起点。我不知道这些片段最终会长成什么——也许是一部影像志，也许是一组田野档案，也许只是某个人日后偶然点开视频、对着屏幕轻轻一笑。那就够了。 因为了解一片土地，从来不需要终极答案。 只需要一次又一次，回到它面前。