Yesterday I watched a documentary on the porters of Huashan, one of China’s five sacred Taoist mountains, which is about 2200 metres high.
These porters carry loads of provisions like cold drinks, tea leaves, beer, etc up the mountain for the tea-shops and hotels there. The loads, which can weigh from 50 kg to 150 kg, are carried tied in bundles and hung from both ends of a long bamboo pole which the men carry on their shoulders. The documentary features a few porters, each with his distinctive style of climbing the mountain.
The first man, in his late forties, sings at the top of his voice as he slowly climbs up the steps of the stone stairs. He has lost a few front teeth and has scars on his body as a result of accidents while climbing the mountain. Due to poverty, his wife had left him so he has brought up his two children on his own. To make more money, he carries loads of 140-150 kg and has earned enough to build his own house and send both his sons to university. They are working now so he is saving the money he earns for his old age when he can no longer work.
The second, an amiable man in his sixties, appears to be talking to himself as he climbs. Actually, he is a movie buff and he is re-enacting the movies that he has watched. He can sing, too and when he meets his friend, the “singer”, they would perform a duet or sit down to have a chat. His grown-up children want him to stop but he loves the mountain too much. They have given in but insist that he carries a load of no more than 60 kg.
The third man, also in his sixties, is a self-taught flutist. He plays the flute with both hands with the pole balanced on his shoulder while he walks. He plays well and claims that tourists climbing the mountain have told him that his music helps them too. When he reaches a steep slope, he would keep his flute and start singing. He has managed to send his children to college too, and they are now working in the city. Talking about his far-away children brought tears to his eyes (and I thought tough mountain men don’t cry!).
The fourth man is a wiry 75 year old with long white hair and a weather-beaten face. He is rather taciturn and does not reveal much. He carries a 50 kg load and shouts loudly as he climbs; with his wild long hair, you could have mistaken him for a mad man!
These men do not have an education or other skills to get another job. They took up mountain-porterage because the only qualifications needed are stamina and a strong pair of legs. Yet they know how to divert their attention from pain and suffering by singing, enacting, playing music, shouting, etc. They also exhibit extraordinary camaraderie. A shout by one of them would elicit a chorus of responses; it is as if they are shouting encouragement to one another. They would also happily share a song or have a chat when they meet. If one of them were to be unable to carry on because of a fall or some other reason, the others would willingly help carry his load without asking for money even though their earnings are meager.
These men, with furrows on their shoulders, scars on their bodies and sinews in their legs as a result of all that climbing somehow know the meaning of friendship and compassion. We have a lot to learn from them.
These porters carry loads of provisions like cold drinks, tea leaves, beer, etc up the mountain for the tea-shops and hotels there. The loads, which can weigh from 50 kg to 150 kg, are carried tied in bundles and hung from both ends of a long bamboo pole which the men carry on their shoulders. The documentary features a few porters, each with his distinctive style of climbing the mountain.
The first man, in his late forties, sings at the top of his voice as he slowly climbs up the steps of the stone stairs. He has lost a few front teeth and has scars on his body as a result of accidents while climbing the mountain. Due to poverty, his wife had left him so he has brought up his two children on his own. To make more money, he carries loads of 140-150 kg and has earned enough to build his own house and send both his sons to university. They are working now so he is saving the money he earns for his old age when he can no longer work.
The second, an amiable man in his sixties, appears to be talking to himself as he climbs. Actually, he is a movie buff and he is re-enacting the movies that he has watched. He can sing, too and when he meets his friend, the “singer”, they would perform a duet or sit down to have a chat. His grown-up children want him to stop but he loves the mountain too much. They have given in but insist that he carries a load of no more than 60 kg.
The third man, also in his sixties, is a self-taught flutist. He plays the flute with both hands with the pole balanced on his shoulder while he walks. He plays well and claims that tourists climbing the mountain have told him that his music helps them too. When he reaches a steep slope, he would keep his flute and start singing. He has managed to send his children to college too, and they are now working in the city. Talking about his far-away children brought tears to his eyes (and I thought tough mountain men don’t cry!).
The fourth man is a wiry 75 year old with long white hair and a weather-beaten face. He is rather taciturn and does not reveal much. He carries a 50 kg load and shouts loudly as he climbs; with his wild long hair, you could have mistaken him for a mad man!
These men do not have an education or other skills to get another job. They took up mountain-porterage because the only qualifications needed are stamina and a strong pair of legs. Yet they know how to divert their attention from pain and suffering by singing, enacting, playing music, shouting, etc. They also exhibit extraordinary camaraderie. A shout by one of them would elicit a chorus of responses; it is as if they are shouting encouragement to one another. They would also happily share a song or have a chat when they meet. If one of them were to be unable to carry on because of a fall or some other reason, the others would willingly help carry his load without asking for money even though their earnings are meager.
These men, with furrows on their shoulders, scars on their bodies and sinews in their legs as a result of all that climbing somehow know the meaning of friendship and compassion. We have a lot to learn from them.
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