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Buffalo enjoy tāngyuán too? by Xiao Kang
I shiver involuntarily as the fresh westerly wind bites into my
chapped cheeks. The rolling hills drop away before me like
waves on the open sea, and I muse upon the myriad Zhuang villages that lie nestled within. This is Maguan county, an almost forgotten corner of Yunnan, less than a day’s walk from the border with Vietnam. Here lives a branch of the Zhuang, or “Nong” as they are locally known, with a strong sense of cultural identity. Nong women are easily identified by their tall, black headdresses which tower regally above them. Their black or navy dresses are bordered with vibrantly colored sashes and their baby slings are richly embroidered with bright, intricate designs. The Nong produce all their traditional garments by hand, weaving them from locally grown cotton.
Picture
Feeding Tangyuan to the buffalo

Yunnan Province

“Come inside and help roll the tāngyuán （汤圆）.” A cheerful voice brings me out of my reverie. I had forgotten that today was the winter solstice, a day for celebration. Known as “passing the winter” guòdōng (过冬), the day is set aside for feasting and fun, for it marks the turning of the tide, the moment when winter begins its slow but steady march towards spring.

Some of the womenfolk sit huddled on stools around a large, round, bamboo winnowing fan. Three flabby slabs of dough, made from glutinous rice flour, lie on the pan, along with an array of small, gobstopper-sized balls, tāngyuán （汤圆）, which the women have already rolled. I find a stool and squeeze in between them. Tearing off a piece of dough, I join in with the communal “rolling” session.

The rest of my hosts are busy preparing lunch. Stoking the fire, shelling the peanuts, chopping the chilies, plucking the chickens… the tasks are seemingly endless. Before long, my friend appears in the doorway, a gutted chicken hanging limply from one hand. “It’s time to feed the water buffalo,” he announces. He deposits the chicken in the kitchen, picks up a china bowl and reaches between us into the winnowing fan. “The water buffalo must eat tāngyuán （汤圆） too,” he laughs. “They are a part of the family.”

Soon we are all gathered around a large steaming stew, tucking in to the chicken and vegetable broth, enjoying the fresh, spicy flavors. We are all looking forward to “dessert”, hot tāngyuán （汤圆）in a sweet, ginger soup. As we eat I think of the water buffalo. “Who would have thought,” I reflect to myself, “that water buffalo enjoy tāngyuán （汤圆）too!”