10th February, 2001.
Dazu Day: Power Cut, Breakfast By Candle Light; Rice Spread Out On Street; Group Of Women On Stone Pavement By Open Door
August, 1987.
The Dazu day started being very misty and with a power cut. We were only in Dazu for one night and stayed at the Guest House, which did not claim to be of five star quality, but it was clean, tidy and comfortable, with excellent food. When I looked through the window in the early morning, the roofs of houses with their blue black curved tiles were shrouded with mist, and from two of the chimneys, a rising thin twist of smoke, signalled that the household was cooking breakfast. The whole scene looked very grey and dull but it had its own magical charm. We had already discovered that the lights in our room were not working, but it was still a delightful surprise to find, when we entered the dining room for breakfast, the whole room lit up with candle light. Power cuts in the town were not unusual, as the increasing demand for power exceeded supply, so the guest house staff were well prepared.
The Dazu day quite quickly cleared of mist so by the time breakfast was over, and we walked along the streets, there was plenty of activity going on to attract our attention; the Chinese working day starts very early. The previous afternoon we had seen the rice being gathered up off the streets, having been laid out to dry in the sun, and more was being spread out for the days baking, totally ignored by cyclists who rode right over the grain. We had witnessed this practice many times before, but whenever we came to a patch of rice, our instinct was to negotiate a way around it.
In front of one house, a woman and a youth were busy winnowing grain, but I do not know whether the machine they were using belonged to them, or whether it was a community loan, as we saw only two such machines during all the time of our visit. The private ownership of the machine would have been unthinkable during the Cultural Revolution. At the time of our visit, ownership of anything was dictated by the cost, as most families were not even in a position to own a bicycle, so people walked for miles visiting families or local markets.
While we were walking along the main street, we passed an open fronted barber's in which a
 youngster was having a haircut. My Chinese friend Trung, who had come with me from the UK, had shoulder length hair, something the locals were not accustomed to seeing on a Chinese man, so when
 the barber saw Trung he beckoned to him to come and have his haircut, which Trung politely declined ! Trung's hair might even have been the topic of conversation of a group of women with their children, gathered at the front of one of the street houses, some sitting on chairs on the stone slabbed pavement, but we shall never know, because of the constant handicap of different languages.
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