Auch kleine Dinge

I am writing down the following thoughts for my young friends.  Growing up in the fast-paced digital world, new delights come along every second.  It is hard for young minds to settle down, look around and appreciate all the wonders around them.

When I was very little, I heard adults talking about how rice, if eaten slowly and allowed to linger in one’s mouth, would taste very sweet.  Mom, always wanting us to chew our food carefully, encouraged me to try.  I wasn’t too disappointed: The rice was sweeter.

Jin Shengtan (金勝歎), a celebrated 17th-century Chinese writer, was believed to have said that, when eating together, dried tofu and peanuts would taste like ham.  How could a child who loved to eat not to try this trick?  Well, I wasn’t too impressed by the result.  Nevertheless, I learned that there were always ways to make everything in life more interesting.

One of my favorite German Lieder is “Auch kleine Dinge” by Hugo Wolf, the first piece in his Italienisches Liederbuch (Italian Songbook).  The German text, adapted by Paul Heyse, reads:

Auch kleine Dinge können uns entzücken,
Auch kleine Dinge können teuer sein.
Bedenkt, wie gern wir uns mit Perlen schmücken;
Sie werden schwer bezahlt und sind nur klein.
Bedenkt, wie klein ist die Olivenfrucht,
Und wird um ihre Güte doch gesucht.
Denkt an die Rose nur, wie klein sie ist,
Und duftet doch so lieblich, wie ihr wißt.

(Even little things can amuse us. They can be precious. Just think how gladly we put on pearls. They are small but costly. Think how small olive fruits are. But their good taste made them sought after. Think about roses. Think how small they are. But they smell so lovely, as you know.)

The folk Italian version is even more direct:

Le cose piccoline son pur belle!
Le cose piccoline son pur care!
Ponete mente come son le perle:
son piccoline, e si fanno pagare.
Ponete mente come l’è l’uliva:
l’è piccolina, e di buon frutto mena.
Ponete mente come l’è la rosa:
l’è piccolina, e l’è tanto odorosa.

(Some things are tiny yet beautiful. Some things are tiny yet dear. Think how pearls are: they are small, but they make us pay [dearly]. Think how it is with olive: It is tiny, and it brings wonderful fruits. Think how it is with rose: it is tiny, and it is very fragrant.)

During my first winter in New York, while establishing connection, I spent most of my hours playing through various standard repertoire. One quiet afternoon, I picked up the Italienisches Liederbuch. Unlike many other works of Wolf, intricate and capricious, “Auch kleine Dinge” was uncomplicated and graceful. Paperwhites that I picked up at the flower district had just bloomed. Their beautiful scent, which I always associated with childhood Chinese New Year celebrations, drifted around the room. The image of the jewel-like flowers, the fragrance and the flowing high notes in the introduction made a permanent imprint in my memory.

Wonders are everywhere in life. They can be as plain as a few grains of white rice; as common as peanuts and tofu; as small as pearls and flowers or as insignificant as olives. Often, I am amused by the process of finding joys in otherwise mundane things. And, I love the small fireworks that exploded within me when small wonders touch my life.

Auch kleine Dinge,” Hugo Wolf:
Performed by Diana Damrau, soprano and Helmut Deutsch, piano

Alishan (阿里山)

高山青, 澗水藍
阿里山的姑娘美如水呀
阿里山的少年壯如山. . .

High mountains green, ravine streams blue.
Alishan’s girls are as beautiful as the water,
Alishan’s young men are strong as the mountains. . ..

高山青 is one of the most popular songs in Taiwan.  Originally from a movie soundtrack, it describes the scenery of Ali mountain and the loveliness of the indigenous people.  It has been arranged/orchestrated by various composers and covered by almost every pop star.  I often performed an indigenous style dance based on this famous tune.  In my young mind, I was always curious of how green the mountains were, and how blue the water.

When I learned that we would travel down south to visit the mountain, I was excited but didn’t know what to expect.  I knew that we would be away for several days.  Mom asked the neighbors to keep an eye on our pets.

Our first stop was in the city of Chiayi 嘉義, a long train ride from Taipei.  Mom had lived in the city for a period of time in her youth.  It might have been a special visit for mom.  However, not used to long rides, I was too tired to enjoy the people, the food and any other special things the city had to offer.  I was glad to finally arrive at the hotel.

As we settled in and unpacked, I heard little chirping sounds.  Following the sound source, I saw a wall gecko.  It wasn’t alone.  As it slipped away, its companions continued to sound their alarms.  Growing up in a house semi-open to the surroundings, we were familiar with wall geckos.  But, we never heard them making any sounds.  Mom explained to us that geckos in northern Taiwan were mute but the ones in the south all chirped.  (It is commonly believed that Zhuoshui River 濁水溪 is the dividing line.)

I found the gecko calls interesting.  In a way, they made it easy to spot those little creatures on the walls.  The only thing was that, after we turned off the lights, they were still chirping—not exactly the kind of lullaby that I needed, sleeping on a strange bed.

The next day, we took a special train up to the mountain.  The locomotive was red—just like the ones in storybooks.  Unlike the express train we took the day before, this one moved calmly.  We saw forests and mountains out from the windows.  After a while, the train started going in and out of tunnels. . . long tunnels.  Then, it began zigzagging!  Mom said that the climb was too steep, so the train would have to go backwards before moving up again.  For us, the backward movements were more exciting than the normal upward climb.  Gradually, we felt the coolness of the mountain air.  Mom pulled out sweaters for us.

When we arrived at our destination, there were souvenir vendors and hotel clerks crowded around the gate.  We followed one of them to a hotel.  I have no recollections of any special meals.  But I remember being told that we needed to go to bed early for the packed agenda next day:  We were to get up in the dark; hike up to a perfect spot to view the sunrise and the mountain clouds.  Then, we were going to see the three-thousand-year-old sacred tree 神木.

We managed to get to the overlook before sunrise.  The weather, however, wasn’t cooperating.  The sun never broke out of the clouds.  Yet, we were on the mountain top looking down at a sea of clouds, which seemed so immense and motionless.

The sacred tree, a giant red cypress, was so tall that we could hardly see its top.  It probably would take thirty people to wrap around its trunk.  But, damaged by a thunderstroke, its center was hollow.  I wondered, if a tree could think and speak, what it might say to me, a tiny kid.  Was it hard to have lived for such a long time?

Our hotel clerks and tour guides were all indigenous people (Tsou tribe).  They all had stark facial features and were hardworking.  As beautiful as the mountain scenery was, I didn’t envy them living up there, isolated and with limited supplies.

Based on what I read online, Alishan Railway had gone through lots of challenges:  Newly built highway reduced its ridership.  Natural disasters caused multiple damages and interrupted services.  Nonetheless, it is making its comeback.

Cultivation of high-mountain tea has generated revenue for locals.  Yet, growing environmental concerns brought interruptions to further developments.  With the entire region designated as a National Scenic Area, man-made features gradually erode natural beauty.

I was glad to have visited the mountains when it was not easily accessible.

Learn more about Alishan Railway:
Alishan Forest Railway – Wikipedia
Enjoy hiking: Two-day Hiking Tour
Celebrating the railway and the cherry blossom season, Google created a regional doodle: Alishan Forest Railway Doodles