Every Wednesday is a village trip day that I and my two mothers at school have agreed to visit. In the past few months, I have almost walked through the ancient villages of Chenggong District, which have been penetrated by the capillaries of urbanization.
Most of these villages are facing demolition or imminent demolition. Among them, Oolong Village was taken over by OCT for renovation, and all the villagers have been relocated to the modern community. When I rented a house, I went to see the community, looked at the old man in ancient costumes, who was still sitting in front of his adobe tile house yesterday basking in the sun, and the next moment he was sitting next to the green belt next to the tall building. The picture is so out of place, so awkward.
In the process of urbanization, I often feel that this city is not the city we want, and this village is not the village I want.
Villages that have been surrounded by cities and lost their farmland are awkward presences mixed in with high-rise buildings. Fortunately, there are also temples.
Each village has its own temple or temple. Adobe houses are old and cannot be inhabited, and newly built houses only care to meet the residential function without any beauty. Not many craftsmen, there are historical temples, which are the last decency of the village, and the only remnants of tradition.
Such a temple in Europe is no different from a church. The villagers meet here, worship the Buddha, make sacrifices, and buy their own vegetables to make iftar together. It's like a small community meeting place.
In the Xinglong Nunnery of Xiangtiao Village, which I visited today, a group of elderly people in the side hall sat together to make sacrifices, warmly greeted us to chat, invited us to eat, and worshiped the Buddha together. Faith is on top, and everyone is very comfortable.
Some of the new urban communities are physically gathered by people, but they lack spiritual connections.