Today, accidentally, I found memoir written by an old friend from my hometown about 10 years ago. The smell of the wine is overflowing, what an enjoyable memoir. What reminded me of this memoir was a bottle of regular rice wine from my hometown called Santang(now is Pingwang), it brought back my memory of these photos:
(Flying high up butterfly with broken wings, whining like falling leaves for its loss.)
When I was young, Santang rice wine seemed to be one of the must have necessity of each family. At that time when people were not overly pursuing fancy packaging at 90’s, the rice wine was put into a jar with red plastic thread sealing the bottle neck, 12 bottles into a pack. It was very cheap, only cost a few RMB per bottle and was sold as in pack.
The old friend went to South America to seek for career opportunity when he was young. It was not easy for him, but with hard work he was able to make great achievements. He exported the rice wine to Brasilia and built up his network and business very successfully. His foreign friends were very impressed by the great personality of him- straightforward, courage and loyalty, which are great ethnic spirit of the whole Chinese nation.
Alcohol is a strange thing. It smells fruity and good, but pungent and gives you burning sensation when you drink it. It makes you high, melts mind and takes you off guard. If circumstance is right, it can be the golden key to your heart.
I like to read this memoir, it displays difficulties and hardship he experienced, showcases weakness and toughness of human, along with self-esteem and rigidity of a nation.
I couldn’t put the memoir down, reading it over for 5 times. Every time, it brought me back to the surging era when China just opened its door to outside world, how people back then took the opportunity to fight for better future with no fear. I was deeply touched and resonating.
And now, like butterfly has broken its wings, when my old friend indulged in reminiscences of the past, I can still sense his mixed emotions, the regret for unfinished goals, and the memories for what was left behind at his youth.
This is not just about a memory of a glass of Santang rice wine, but the devotion and struggle for success of that specific era by that generation.
Let’s hold our glasses up high and toast for the lost juvenile life of what we had loved, ached, and lived through.
The dream ended, but you are still the juvenile at heart.
今天偶然翻起一位老家笔友十年前的一篇回忆，酒香四溢，快意人生。引出这篇回忆的，是老家的一瓶普通的白酒——三塘（品王的前身），也勾起了我记忆里的那些画面。
童年的光景里，家家户户餐桌上似乎都都少不了一扎三塘。在白酒还未曾过度包装的上世纪90年代，朴实的家乡酒还是用红色的塑料绳盘起瓶口，12瓶一扎。因为酒很便宜，几块钱一瓶，所以那时候都是一扎一扎购买。
这位笔友年轻时候曾经在南美奋斗和闯荡，历经艰辛不提，收获了多彩的青春和人生的积淀。他借着老家的这瓶三塘，构建了他在巴西利亚的朋友圈。让外邦友人感受到了我华夏民族的豪爽、胆识和义气。
酒，很神奇。闻起来果香飘溢，但入口辛辣、灼心。但激起了你的情绪，沸腾了你的心智，卸下你的防御，合适的场合，就是打开人群心扉的金钥匙。
我爱读这篇回忆，当中有他国的艰难和辛酸，有人性的脆弱和坚强，有民族的自尊和刚强。
我读过不下五次，每次都能深深的进入那个风起云涌的开放年代，那种大潮之下，搏浪前行的勇敢与顽强。
而今，蝴蝶已折翼，当他回忆时，我能感受到，那种不负少年头的哀伤，对沾满泪水的青春纪念册无尽的抚摸。
念的不仅仅是那一杯纯甄的三塘，更是那个特定年代的奋进和拼搏的怀念。
让我们举起杯，为所有人，为所有那些爱过、痛过、拥有过、失去过的青春年少。
梦醒，你还是那个少年！
