Travel Notes|New Year’s Day in Sichuan

For someone who is used to living in Sichuan, like me, it would be a miracle if I didn’t wear long johns in winter. Logically speaking, Sichuan is a basin and can be called a land of abundance. There is Daba Mountain in the north to block the cold current, but My cousin lives in Shihezi, Xinjiang all year round. When she returned to her hometown in Sichuan, it was so cold during the Chinese New Year that she stayed around the stove every day.

However, Sichuan’s position in my heart is still something I can’t give up.

Naturally, such a status is inseparable from the feelings of hometown. After all, I was born and raised in Sichuan, and I speak sharp Sichuan dialect. No matter where I go in the world, I can speak one word: "Shuangfan, Ba Shi De Ban, Yi Ling Dao Guai, Gaga, Cai Yang" "Yang, Xianren Banban" will tell you that you are from Sichuan, China.

If there is only a hometown dialect, it is not surprising. A place that doesn't have the best things to eat is like sitting on a plane and singing at the top of your lungs; a place that has fun and food is called comfort.

After a busy year, if you don’t go back to celebrate the New Year with dry rice and cut two sausages, cut a piece of bacon, or drink two sips of your own home-brewed cherry wine, are you worthy of the fact that you are enjoying life with a sense of ritual? Where does the joy of this world come from?

When you go back, don’t forget to pack a bag with sausages, bacon, and, yes, eggs from the backyard hens!

These eggs taste much better than the eggs in the city.

The best thing is that it occasionally snows in Sichuan. For Sichuan people, when it snows, it’s like a scholar looking at a ranking list, they are both surprised and happy!

On the hillside, the snow is thicker in some places, and the grass is still exposed in some places, so that one side is white and the other is dark yellow. Occasionally, there is some snow behind the palm on the roof, and the snow washed up by the smoke from the uncle's house next door. It has melted a little, and wisps of green smoke are floating out. There is still a bit of bean paste in the cold air. This uncle must be frying bacon at noon today; smelling it, it turns out that it is already 11 o'clock, and it is time to cook. It’s time to eat.

When it was almost sunset, the yellowish sunshine slanted on the mountainside, and the thin snow seemed to be shy suddenly, revealing a little pink.

Suddenly, I can’t wait to celebrate the New Year!