The structure and logic of our tribe have been mysterious to us. Indeed we are slow, but this is our foundation. Thus we returned home to become farmers, but there is no chance to chat when we transplant seedlings separately; thus we went to the intertidal zone to collect seashells, but the sound of waves is too loud to chat that we had to scream and roughen our voice; thus we went to the elders for a chat, but they replied that it has been forgotten. To be honest, we haven’t found a way yet, but mysterious things are always fascinating, and so the exploration shall continue.
When I was young, my grandmother wouldn’t allow me to touch her loom. She always seems very serious. I loved to follow her around, sitting on the ground quietly watching her weaving. I don’t speak our native language and she doesn’t Mandarin Chinese; but when she asked for scissors, I would bring her a pair of scissors, when she asked for treat, I got it for her. Basically, we didn’t have the ability to have a conversation. A few years ago, I weaved a piece of textile that is three meters long, and also choose the smallest stitch squares for cross-stitch embroidery, just to prove and show her what I am capable of, but she still doesn’t understand what I said.