Jenny's primary school.
Memories of being a wild school girl. Playground? Huh, we had the mountains.
"This is where I grew up"
House no longer there
Stone arch bridge on the way to see Dad's old workplace.
I'd asked for a walk into the mountains, and Dad decided to show us where he used to work in the paddy fields. About half a mile out of town, they are now either abandoned or planted with trees.
He hadn't been back there in years - no reason to go there!
Lots of the trees had been damaged by last year's heavy snow.
New Year Tomb Sweeping
Everyone has to get up in the morning and go out to perform memorial rites at their ancestors' tombs.
The chickens have their throats cut and blood spilled onto paper money, which is then burned. Other parts of the ritual include bowing with incense, inserting incense and burning money on the ground at the four compass points of the tomb, offering food and cups of wine, and the obligatory firecrackers.
Ah, so that's why we needed the sickles!
One year of growth was cleared away from Dad's father's tomb.
Photos of the actual proceedings are not allowed.
Dad's mother's tomb is located quite a way away from her husband, in what I have to say is a better position overlooking the town.
After an hour of doing the grandparents' tombs, Dad went off on his own much further up into the hills to pay his respects at his grandfather's tomb.
The chickens are of course not wasted, forming the main part of lunch.
In the village, you can turn up unannounced at anyone's house and share in the non stop conversation, which possibly contains a lot of discussion of the old days, but that certainly wouldn't get translated for me.
Jenny has an amazing talent for speaking to anyone, even lighting up the conversation of the village old men.
My part in these conversational gatherings is completely silent.
New house, old house
Next: Warmth