評(píng)論
打印
I once saw a photo of a man with blue hands. They belonged to an artisan textile dyer, an ethnic Miao who goes by the name Han Shan, or Cold Mountain.
我曾經(jīng)看到過一張照片，是一個(gè)雙手是藍(lán)色的男人。那雙手的主人是一個(gè)叫寒山的染布工匠，苗族人。
Intrigued, I requested a meeting. Han Shan said to meet him at an ancient Buddhist monastery in western Sichuan Province, on the edge of the Tibetan Plateau.
充滿好奇的我請(qǐng)求和他見一面。寒山讓我去四川西部、青藏高原邊緣的一座古廟里找他。
“To put it simply, to us dyeing means life,” he said in the courtyard of the monastery, as we sipped tea under a full moon. I asked him to explain.
“簡(jiǎn)單來(lái)說(shuō)，染布對(duì)我們意味著生命，”他在那座寺廟的院子里說(shuō)。當(dāng)時(shí)，我們正對(duì)著一輪圓月品茶。我請(qǐng)他解釋一下這句話。
Speaking in the third person, he told his story.
他用第三人稱講述了自己的故事。
He described a boy who grew up in a village in the mountains of Guizou Province and the textile dyeing tradition of the Miao people. While other ethnic groups in southern China also use natural dyes, the Miao dye is known for its vibrant blue color, which comes from what Han Shan called the “blue herb,” or baphicacanthus cusia.
他說(shuō)起了自己在貴州山區(qū)的苗寨里長(zhǎng)大的經(jīng)歷和苗族人的染布傳統(tǒng)。盡管中國(guó)西南地區(qū)的其他少數(shù)民族也會(huì)使用天然染料，但苗族人的染料因?yàn)槟苋境錾珴擅髁恋乃{(lán)色而赫赫有名。這種顏色源自寒山所說(shuō)的“藍(lán)草”，即青黛。
At 18, when it was time to further his education, Han Shan, like many young Chinese, moved to a big city, Chengdu, in Sichuan, with hopes of a better future. But after a year, he had become disillusioned with China’s urban dream.
18歲時(shí)，寒山去四川成都繼續(xù)學(xué)業(yè)。和中國(guó)很多年輕人一樣，去到大城市的寒山希望能有更好的未來(lái)。但一年后，他對(duì)中國(guó)的進(jìn)城夢(mèng)大失所望。
One day, he decided to walk away from the city. Literally. He set off on foot, with no specific destination, let alone purpose. It would become a journey of more than 2,000 miles and 15 years.
有一天，他決定徒步離開成都。實(shí)打?qū)嵉赜媚_走。沒有明確的目的地，更別說(shuō)意圖。這一走就是15年，行程超過2000英里（約合3200公里）。
“I wanted to explore an unknown world,’’ he said. “To put it simply, I started walking because I was bored.”
“我想探索未知的世界，”他說(shuō)。“簡(jiǎn)單來(lái)說(shuō)，我開始行走是因?yàn)槲腋械絽捑肓恕！?/p>
In the years that he walked across Tibet, Xinjiang, Gansu, Ningxia and Yunnan, nearly 445 million people moved from China’s countryside to the city. Average incomes jumped to nearly $8,000, from less than $1,000 a year. For most people, life had rapidly transformed for the better.
在他徒步穿越西藏、新疆、甘肅、寧夏和云南的這些年里，中國(guó)近4.45億人從農(nóng)村搬往城市。人均年收入從不到1000美元，增加到了近8000美元。對(duì)大部分人來(lái)說(shuō)，生活迅速向好的方向發(fā)展。
But not for Han Shan. He remained in China’s past.
但對(duì)寒山來(lái)說(shuō)不是。他仍活在中國(guó)的過去。
When asked how he spent his time over those 15 years, he decided it would be best to demonstrate.
被問及過去15年是如何度過的時(shí)，他覺得最好通過親自演示來(lái)說(shuō)明。
The next day, we set off through tea fields, bamboo forests and mountain paths. Along the way, he picked wildflowers, explaining their properties. “This flower can be used as a red dye,” he said, throwing one into a basket on his back.
第二天，我們出發(fā)穿過了一片片茶園和竹林，走過一條條山間小道。他把沿途的野花采集起來(lái)，解釋它們的特性。“這種花可以作為紅色染料，”他一邊說(shuō)，一邊把一株花扔進(jìn)背上的背簍里。
In Han Shan’s view, China’s modernization has come at a price: Society has lost its connection with nature. “We are developing so fast, we have forgotten where we came from,” he said. “Materialism is one of the core things that keep people away from nature.”
在寒山看來(lái)，中國(guó)為現(xiàn)代化付出了代價(jià)：社會(huì)失去了與自然的聯(lián)系。“我們發(fā)展得這么快，都忘了自己是從哪里來(lái)的了，”他說(shuō)。“物質(zhì)主義是導(dǎo)致人們遠(yuǎn)離自然的根源之一。”
For him, this carries dangers: “In Taoism we say: After the moon waxes, it wanes. Prosperity is the prelude to decline. Everything collapses when it reaches such extremes.”
在他看來(lái)，這很危險(xiǎn)：“道家常說(shuō)：月盈則虧。繁榮是衰落的前奏。所有事物都會(huì)在到達(dá)極致時(shí)坍塌。”
His answer to China’s materialistic society has been to retreat to this village, Mingyue, on the outskirts of Chengdu, where he cultivates a simple life. Ironically, perhaps, he survives by selling the clothing he dyes to the same people he considers too materialistic.
對(duì)于中國(guó)的物質(zhì)社會(huì)，他的解決辦法是回到成都郊區(qū)的明月村。在這里，他過著簡(jiǎn)單的生活。或許有些諷刺的是，他要把自己染的布賣給那些被他認(rèn)為太過物質(zhì)的人，并以此為生。
The dyeing tradition was passed to him from his mother and to her, from many generations of Miao before. Now Han Shan has carried the tradition from Guizhou to Mingyue, where artists and free spirits like himself are creating a new space for themselves. Now, even some local villagers have taken up the dyeing trade.
染布的傳統(tǒng)是母親傳給他的，而他母親則是從之前的無(wú)數(shù)代苗人那里繼承下來(lái)的。如今，寒山把這項(xiàng)傳統(tǒng)從貴州帶到了明月村。在這里，藝術(shù)家和像他這種崇尚精神自由的人正在為自己創(chuàng)造一個(gè)新的空間。現(xiàn)在，就連當(dāng)?shù)氐囊恍┐迕褚沧銎鹆巳静嫉纳狻?/p>
Urbanites armed with selfie poles and shiny new cars seeking a weekend getaway drop by to buy the naturally made clothes. Their purchases are putting food in Han Shan’s stomach, a roof over his head and a smartphone in his pocket.
帶著自拍桿、開著閃閃發(fā)亮的新車、希望利用周末度假放松的城里人會(huì)順便來(lái)村里買手工做的衣服。和他們之間的買賣讓寒山有東西吃，有地方住，兜里還裝上了智能手機(jī)。
The natural dyes may have represented life to the Miao people, a connection to the natural world, but now those same dyes are Han Shan’s actual lifeline — his livelihood. Even those willing to walk thousands of miles cannot entirely avoid materialism’s reach.
對(duì)苗族人來(lái)說(shuō)，天然染料可能象征著生命，是他們與自然界之間的紐帶。但現(xiàn)在，這些染料真的成了寒山賴以生存的依靠，是他的生計(jì)。即便是愿意徒步幾千英里的人，也無(wú)法完全避開物質(zhì)主義的影響。
