These are China’s best days – and it will only get better!

Rural Chinese blacksmiths forge flaming iron with hammer and anvil much like their ancestors 1,000 years ago. They bring to mind a favorite childhood poem, Longfellow’s, The Village Blacksmith, which reads in part,

Verse

Verse Under a spreading chestnut tree, The Village blacksmith stands, The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long, His face is like the tan; His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns what’re he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man.

But not even Longfellow himself could have imagined a man like Cui Rui, a 5th generation blacksmith who witnessed New China’s transformation firsthand and said to us that in spite of amazing progress, “The best is yet ahead!”

Born in Old China, Thriving in New China

Cui Rui grinned as he greeted us from the doorway of his shop, which was on a street lined with new wooden buildings designed in traditional styles. He was dressed plainly, and his shop was littered with odds and ends that looked like they’d been tossed there before Liberation in 1949. I would have never guessed that this shabby shop’s owner produced not just knives and cleavers but recreations of jeweled swords and metal utensils now proudly displayed in some of the best museums in the land.

Cui Rui invited us to sit on stools in the back of his shop while he shared his story.

“Life has improved a lot,” Cui Rui said. “It is very different from 20 or 30 years ago. We had hard times then, but today we have a well-off society.”

Cui Rui shared frankly about mistakes made and lessons learned as the nation slowly modernized and shook off poverty, but in his eyes the turning point was Deng Xiaoping’s reform and opening up. “A remarkable figure appeared in China,” Cui Rui said. “Deng Xiaoping led China’s people and started us on a new journey. Since then, generation after generation have led China into a more advanced and scientific era.

“I am 76 years old,” he said. “I was born in the old society, but today is the best of times! In the old days, you could not eat even vegetables, much less staple foods. Today, however, various fruits and vegetables are very abundant year round. In the summer we can now eat fruits and vegetables that used to be sold only in winter. And people’s lives are particularly carefree. Retired workers and the elderly have no pressure in life.”

Of course, in a competitive society not everyone is free of pressure. Cui Rui said, “Young people are competing to get into college, and invest a lot of hard work in the exams. But I feel today is better than any time in China’s past – and it will probably be even better in the future!”

Blacksmithing in the Blood

Cui Rui tried his hand at many things after retirement but his first love is still working iron. “I am the fifth generation of our family, and our family has been blacksmiths for over 200 years. In the last years of the reign of Emperor Daoguang, my ancestor suffered a drought in his hometown of Shanxi. He begged his way all the way to Inner Mongolia. After his blacksmith apprenticeship, he started his own business, but then returned to Shanxi, leaving behind his 9-year-old son.

“His son also became a blacksmith’s apprentice, started his own business, and had a family of five sons and two daughters. And each generation carried on the blacksmith tradition right up until Liberation in 1949.

My grandpa had nine children and four of them chose to be blacksmiths. My father and uncle were both blacksmiths, and they passed down their technique. I’m the fifth generation, and I and my five brothers are all blacksmiths!

After Liberation, Cui Rui and his brother worked in the state-owned factory, but, “After the reform and opening up, factories closed and the market economy replaced the planned economy. We relied on ourselves and lived on working iron.”

I wondered if people like Cui Rui preferred the security of the old ways over the competitive pressures of the market economy, but he is grateful for the changes. “Our lives have changed greatly,” he said. “We were the have-nots but now we’re the haves!” we went from a meager existence to affluence. We have indeed tasted the sweetness of reform and opening up!”

Cui Rui’s enthusiasm was contagious. I imagined him giving a pep talk to my own XMU students because this 5th generation blacksmith is well-informed not just on local changes but the nation as a whole.

“Of course, from the development of the country, the development of the political situation, and the development of various aspects, we are very proud when we listen to radio or watch TV,” Cui Rui said. “Although I am 76 years old, and I am in the twilight of my life, the joy of a new happy life still feels new to me.”

For someone supposedly in the twilight of his life, he shows no signs of slowing down, driven by pride in both country and profession.

Can’t Cook Without a Cleaver!

“As a Chinese,” Cui Rui said, “I am very proud and very happy. And as a blacksmith, I must continue my career. I mainly create knives and other objects, which are used by ordinary people.” He hefted a beautifully balanced knife and laughed as he said, “Every family has to cook, and you can’t cook without a cleaver!”

Cui Rui’s cleaver, with its razor edge and beautifully carved wooden handle, was a work of art distinct from the cheap, mass produced knives in stores. I’ve loved knives since childhood, when I was given my grandpa’s pearl-handled knife. Cui Rui must have sensed my delight as I tested the cleaver’s balance. “Keep it!” he said. I could not keep it, sadly, as I would be taking a train in West China and it would not pass security, but someday I hope to return for it – and give it to my own grandson.

Cui Rui is passionate about his work, and especially about preserving the techniques inherited from his ancestors. He turned the cleaver over in his hand and sighed. “My forefathers had so many wondrous ironworking techniques that are now lost. I’ve worked to rediscover them – to bring some lost things back to life. I want to leave a legacy for future generations. And today’s prosperity gives me the freedom for innovation and creation.

“In the past, my father and uncle were very clever, and their skills were quite good. Like me, they wanted to create something special, but the pressures of life prevented it. Their families had five or six children, and with eight or nine people in a family and only one person working for a meager salary, they struggled just to make ends meet.”

Cui Rui frowned as he recalled the old days. “Everyone ate from the big rice pot. Industrious people worked harder but lazy people did little. By the time of reform and opening up, my father and uncle were already in their twilight years. They really paid the price to train us, so for their sakes, my generation must work from our heart to create what they could not.”

Ballroom Dancing Blacksmith

The 76-year-old laughed and thumped his chest. “My health is very good! So I must take advantage of reform and opening up. We eat well, we live well – life is very good!”

Life is good indeed, and this village blacksmith has quite the social life. “I am a blacksmith,” Cui Rui said, “but I can also have my own hobbies and cultural life. For example, I am active and I exercise. I also practice martial arts. I wanted to learn martial arts when I was young but with the pressure of life there was no way. And today, I still dance – even ballroom dancing. Every night, I practice ballroom dancing in Dazhao Square. My life is very rich!”

Not all of Cui Rui’s peers have seized the day as he has. “I took advantage of these good times, but many of my peers failed to catch up, and died early of illness. I work every day, but not because of financial need. Each day I am free to do whatever I want to do.”

Resurrecting Legendary Techniques

As if blacksmithing, Kung Fu and ballroom dancing weren’t enough to keep this 76-year-young man busy, he also makes museum-quality recreations of ancient metal cultural masterpieces. “I was at a museum for a while and the curator asked me to copy an ancient Kangxi sword. In ancient times, only the palace blacksmith possessed the techniques to make such knives.” He pointed to the elegant gold inlay in copper and gold plate on silver. “This is traditional Chinese technology, but when I arrived at the museum, this technology had been lost for 100 years. The curator asked me to rediscover the technique because they dared not display the real Kangxi sword in public. In the end, I did rediscover the technology. I was given only 80 Yuan for my efforts but I didn’t care how much I was paid because I was able to resurrect a precious technology for my country. The Kangxi sword can easily cut wire. It is a creative work made by rediscovered historic traditions.”

Like Father, Like Son

Nowadays, many youth are reluctant to spend years learning a low-paying traditional craft, so I asked Cui Rui, “Have you taught your techniques to your loved ones?”

Cui Rui grinned proudly. “My son took over! And while in the museum, I recreated all of their iron exhibits. Some of my works were sold during the 30th Anniversary Celebration of the Inner Mongolia Autonomous Region, and many foreign friends bought them.”

“Can your son also create these reproductions?”

“Yes,” Cui Rui said, “he can make them now. He started his apprenticeship when he was only 13 and 14 and he is 48 years old this year. He runs our iron business and has a small workshop of his own and a retail store. My apprentices create the pieces that he sells in his shop.”

Two Treasures the Secret to Life

Cui Rui seems to have boundless energy and excitement about life. “How is it you are in your 70 s but still so young?” I asked. It turns out this village blacksmith is also a philosopher.

“Good health, good mood!” he said. “There are two treasures in life, one is the body and the other is the mood. If you’ve never experienced bitter times, you can’t taste the sweetness of today. Some young people not only do not work hard but they also blame families, parents and even society. In fact, the reason they don’t work hard is because they have never experienced any hardships. They’ve never known hunger like us.

“In the past, iron work was all manual. From dawn to noon, I was sweaty head to toe, and lack of food left my legs almost too wobbly to walk. A man needs 1 ½ to 2 lb of food but I was given only 8 or 9 oz – and nothing in the morning. Nowadays, for breakfast people have a big table laden with eggs, milk and everything else. During bitter times, we were sent to the countryside where life was even harder. A day of wielding bellows and sledgehammer left a man exhausted and weak. We were panting and breathless – not like today, with so many big-bellied people. It was a difficult time in the country – not just Inner Mongolia but everywhere. Natural disasters left everyone famished.”

The ebullient blacksmith’s face darkened for a moment as he reflected on the past, and then he brightened, the philosopher coming to the fore again.

“But that’s all history now. It is still vivid to my generation when we talk of it but to the youth these are just stories, perhaps embellished. Youth today have not eaten soup made from husks and tree bark. Soups did not have eggs or other things; it was just water with a bit of soy sauce for color, a drop of oil and some spring onions and a tad of salt. It was hard to digest and we broke out in boils so badly that we could not even sit on a bench.”

Cui Rui paused, and the entire room went silent as we thought of what his generation endured only decades ago. But Cui Rui grinned again and said, “But China will be even better in the future!”

As our time together came to a close, I scanned Cui Rui’s WeChat contact so we could keep in contact, and we took photos together in front of his tiny shop.

As we drove off I turned and saw him waving until we were out of sight, and I was reminded vividly of the closing lines of Longfellow’s The Village Blacksmith,

Verse

Verse Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught! Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought.

Cui Rui’s story is representative of people I’ve met not just in Inner Mongolia but throughout the entire country. And later that same day, I had dinner in the home of a creative Inner Mongolian mom in the remote countryside who paid her daughter’s Xiamen University tuition by making and selling traditional Mongolian snacks.

Longfellow could have written a poem about her as well.

The longer I live, the more I agree with Mark Twain that “There was never yet an uninteresting life,”—especially in China.

I could not imagine more stirring stories than the dozen or so I’d heard between Xiamen and Inner Mongolia, but one of the most moving tales was to come from Mr. Tian Ye, a compassionate young leader who has devoted his life to stamping out poverty in an area that even UNESCO once deemed hopeless.