The Language of The River

by Grace Galopin (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

Making a local connection China

Work had been particularly draining that day at the bear sanctuary. The sun had been strong and I was asked to walk two local dogs, who were not used to being walked, which caused my stress levels to sky-rocket. A combination of having to stop the dogs jumping in front of cars, as they attempted to assert their authority over the revolving tyres and the constant ‘leave that!’ or ‘don’t touch that!’, when all the while they can’t understand English commands, resulted in me deciding to go on a much needed evening stroll after work. Half a bottle of mosquito repellent later, the sun was setting and the temperature was perfect for a nice dip in the nearby river. The five minute walk from the sanctuary was like a catwalk, as I was a lone, young, white girl heading towards what I didn’t know at the time was the place locals would gather every evening. In such a rural setting, some Chinese locals have never seen a white person in their life. Therefore, the walk consisted of me being honked and waved at by locals passing on motorbikes and after catching a glimpse of some steps leading up the river-bank, I decided to make a discrete diversion. I took a deep breath as I approached the top of the steps and I was greeted by the breath-taking view of fast running water, which mirrored the most amazing colours from the setting sun. I looked to my right and I saw over a hundred people gathered on a man-made break in the river, which would be otherwise flooded in heavy rainfall. People of all ages were laughing, swimming, playing and conversing and it was one of the most beautiful moments I’ve ever experienced. I found myself reflectively comparing the essence of community that I was witnessing, with the phone-focused and largely unsociable tendencies that even I am guilty of back home. After watching two dogs playfully chase one another in the water, I looked down the steps towards the river running in front of me and saw that I was being stared at by a middle-aged local man. I half-smiled and to my surprise, he began to speak to me. I nervously laughed and awkwardly replied ‘English?’, to which he shook his head and laughed too. He turned back to the river before looking back at me and gestured for me to walk down the steps towards the river. After my moment of deep reflection I figured, why not? I slowly made my way towards him; his hands were behind his back. As I approached the river, the harsh noise of the currents picked up, simultaneously with the beat of my heart. I think the man could sense my slight cautiousness and once again, gestured towards him and spoke in Chinese. I was beginning to regret my decision. He gestured that he wanted me to take my shoes off, as he had already done so and I was just hoping he wasn’t going to take his top off next! Once my shoes and socks were off, he pointed for me to stand with just my feet on the very last step, which was submerged under water. I was shaking at this point because I was alone with a stranger, by an extremely deep river and the murky water was gushing as quick as my muscles were twitching telling me to head back. I finally stood with both feet on the final step and although slightly starved of oxygen from holding my breath, I turned and smiled at the local man, who then pointed to the people I had just been looking at. He put his hands behind his back and smiled. Deep breath out. Despite us speaking completely different languages, that local man and myself had a connection that evening. He was proud of his way of life and wanted to share this admiration with me, for which I am deeply touched and grateful for, despite my initial hesitation. We remained still, in silence until the sun set. I walked home that night with a smile on my face and a warmth in my heart.