Floating Life: A Dutch Countryside Chronicle

Author: Qiu Yanming
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2003-11-01
Features: Yanming is an old friend. In late 1976, I returned to Taiwan from Europe and was then working at Lion Art. Soon after, I got to know Yanming. She studied editorial work and, after graduation, joined a newspaper as an assistant for the literary supplement. Shortly after, United Literature was founded, and Yanming served as an editor, becoming one of the key planners and executors during its early days. Yanming was small in stature and often frail, always seen coughing and looking exhausted. Yet when she worked, she didn’t stop for days, showing remarkable perseverance. After getting to know her better, I often received calls from her late at night—still at the newspaper, arranging layouts for articles or planning new themes. Her dedication to work was truly awe-inspiring. During one encounter, my only advice to Yanming was, "Rest." Or I would call her office around 1 or 2 a.m. to test if she was still there (since everyone else had already left), and without hesitation, I would order, "Go home and sleep." Despite the heavy workload and endless tasks, perhaps it was a part of Yanming’s nature—a kind of "obsession"—that made her unable to let go of everything. While she had friends who respected and cherished her, there were also those who misunderstood and judged her. During one of Yanming’s serious illnesses and hospital stays, she was physically and emotionally drained after surgery. Feeling pity for her, I urged her to resign and move abroad to truly take some time for herself to rest and recover. In 1988, when I visited her in Brussels, Yanming had become confident and content, studying painting and music, living joyfully like a deity. Coincidentally, her old friend’s nephew, Tang Xiao, came from the Netherlands to visit her, and the three of us spent several days together. On parting, I teased Yanming privately, "If you don’t marry this man, you might as well not marry at all in this lifetime." Soon after, they got married, which was one of the happiest moments for me. Yanming was kind-hearted, and despite her many struggles, she eventually met someone who cherished her "obsession." Others said Yanming was lucky, but I simply replied, "Yanming is kind-hearted." After their marriage, they settled in the Netherlands. When I visited Europe, I detoured to their small town and stayed for several days. Though we didn’t talk much, their life was peaceful, quiet, and content—something Yanming in Taiwan could hardly imagine. In the small town of Coekel, while Tang Xiao was at work, Yanming and I wandered through the forest, picking wild mushrooms. Yanming had rented a piece of farmland and excitedly took me to harvest various vegetables and spices, asking, "What’s for dinner tonight?" while eagerly exploring her surroundings. I knew that for her, even a single scallion or a handful of cilantro on that land was another form of "obsession," and I thought to myself, "If she’s this devoted to growing vegetables, she won’t be very good at it." And indeed, when we got home, she washed a bunch of tender green scallions as if she were washing a queen’s hair, admiring them joyfully on the wooden cutting board and meticulously chopping them into fine scallion bits with a small knife. I jokingly said, "You’re not growing vegetables; you’re growing literature." She then took out her notebook, filled with the dense, ant-like script unique to Yanming, neatly recording every crop in the farmland. Accompanying the notes were sketches, and I knew that this deep connection with the land and nature would be a source of happiness Yanming would share with others in the years to come. The next day, we passed a stranger’s garden where garlic plants grew over a meter tall, thick and robust, with stalks as thick as dough sticks. I exclaimed, "Garlic stalks!" The owner came out to investigate, and we told him they were delicious, perfect for stir-frying or pickling meat. At first, he seemed skeptical, but he picked some up and tossed them to us, root and all. That night, we enjoyed a hearty dinner. Thinking back on these moments, many years have passed, and Yanming’s "literature" is finally about to be published as a book. Just after the turn of the millennium, she and Tang Xiao returned to Taiwan and entrusted me with the manuscript, asking me to write the preface. I thought that by now, Yanming, tilling the land and digging the soil, must have a certain grace and magnanimity. I believe this book by Yanming will bring her friends healthy and joyful life experiences.