Before reading this article, please click "Follow", which is not only convenient for you to discuss and share, but also can bring you a different sense of participation, thank you for your support
The origin of the ancestors and pigs
In the teachings of Islam, it is an important precept that cannot be violated by worshippers who are forbidden to eat pork. The Qur'an solemnly declares: "You may only eat domestic animals that have been lawfully slaughtered and sacrificed to Allah, and it is forbidden to eat dead creatures, blood-soaked animals, pork and all other food that has not been sacrificed in the name of Allah."
As devout Muslim descendants, the Hui people have followed this teachings for generations as an important religious foundation. However, in addition to their persistent pursuit of teaching, their refusal to eat pork also has a touching sense of friendship between humans and animals.
According to the word of mouth of the Hui elders, on a cold night a long, long time ago, the remnants of the Hui army fled in confusion after being attacked by the enemy, and finally came to a remote and deep mountain forest.
The silence of the night enveloped them, and the situation of hunger and cold made it difficult for all. In desperation, a huge sow suddenly appeared in front of everyone, as if knowing their predicament, and affectionately arched one of the Hui soldiers with her nose.
The soldier looked at the sincerity in the sow's eyes and couldn't help but ponder. Immediately, he turned around and slowly left with the sow. Sure enough, the sow led them to a cave where the sunlight poured in through the cracks, and the air was fresh and moist, making it a temporary shelter.
The sacred status of funerary customs
On the snowy plateau beneath the sky, there lives a group of Tibetan compatriots who are in awe of fish. Whenever the Tibetan New Year approaches, a solemn fish release ceremony is held in the temple.
Monks in red robes fold their hands and recite Buddhist scriptures with devotion and prayer for relief. Bursts of scripture echoed in the temple, and the atmosphere was solemn. Afterwards, they walk slowly to the lake and carefully release the fish from the bamboo baskets into the water.
The fish made a gorgeous arc in the air and landed on the surface of the clear lake, where it soon melted into the sparkling waters. The monks watched the fish swim freely, and their eyes were full of a certain secret and sacred meaning.
In fact, this respect for fish is rooted in a special funerary custom in Tibetan Buddhism. When a fellow Tibetan deceases, relatives often carry his or her body to rivers and lakes and throw it into the water.
An old Tibetan woman in her seventies said to me, "The fish are messengers sent by Heaven to lead our relatives to heaven." She folded her hands and looked reverently solemn, her tone full of fear of death and anticipation of the afterlife.
In her eyes, eating fish is equivalent to devouring one's ancestors, which is a sin and blasphemy against her ancestors. Because of this, for many Tibetans, fish occupy a sacred and inviolable place in their concept of life and death.
Arouse the fear of Tibetans
Tibetans' wariness of fish did not happen overnight. In fact, for a long period of time, they lived by fishing for fish and shrimp, and did not have any doubts about eating fish.
It wasn't until the late 11th century that a special species called schizophrenia reversed the situation.
Schizophrenia is found in highland lakes and is often similar in size to other freshwater fish, but it is inherently poisonous. It is said that if this fish is accidentally eaten, it will cause a serious poisoning reaction, with symptoms such as stomach pain, vomiting, diarrhea, and even life-threatening cases in severe cases.
It is a pity that the Tibetan compatriots at that time did not have enough understanding of this. At the turn of summer and autumn, the whole family goes out to the lake to fish to celebrate the arrival of the new year.
At that time, schizophrenia were everywhere scattered along the shore, and the Tibetans were often negligent in tasting these terrifying and poisonous creatures.
An eyewitness recalled that the horrific sight still haunts him to this day. I saw that the family members suddenly covered their abdomen and screamed repeatedly, and then rolled on the ground in pain, foaming at the mouth.
There was panic all around, and the cries and wails were incessant, but he could do nothing but watch his relatives suffer such torture.
Since then, Tibetans' fear of fish has been ingrained in their hearts, and even now that they can identify this dangerous species, they remain wary of eating fish.
After all, that painful memory was so painful that it had left an indelible shadow on the collective memory of the entire nation.
Let the Manchus respect the hounds as family
In that long and cold winter, loyal and brave dogs always accompanied the Manchu people, becoming their right-hand men for hunting and survival, and even the guardians of life.
It is said that whenever Manchu hunters prepared to go out hunting, they would bring with them at least three or five vigilant hunting dogs. These dogs are agile and have an excellent sense of smell, helping their owners spot wild animals and help them round up their prey.
With these loyal companions by their side, the hunters have a very fruitful harvest. No one could have imagined that behind this scene there was a story that made people cry.
Legend has it that once upon a time, there was a young general named Nurhachi. In order to seize power, his uncle Rondun deliberately waited for an opportunity to commit murder when Nurha was drunk.
At this moment, a dog named Yellow Dog stepped forward and let out a deafening bark, hoarsely trying to wake up its owner.
But Long Dun was ruthless and launched a fierce attack on the yellow dog. Alert and nimble, the Yellow Dog dodges and counters, engaging in a desperate fight with Rondon with its fangs.
The two of them circled for a long time, and the small space gradually filled the room with a strong smell of blood. At this last moment, the yellow dog desperately pounced on Longdun, exchanging his life for the life of his master.
After waking up, Nurhachi wept bitterly when he saw this, how could he have imagined that this docile dog would have such a heroic and fearless side. Therefore, he solemnly ordered: Manchus must never harm dogs and must not eat dog meat, in order to commemorate this loyal and commendable life-saving benefactor.
Since then, the status of hunting dogs in the hearts of the Manchus has become more than just a tool to assist hunting, they are more like a close family. Every time they look at the loyal eyes of their dogs, the Manchus will think of that period of singing and crying history, and proudly regard it as the pride of the nation.