A Quiet Place

Tomorrow morning I'm leaving my hometown to go to my grandma's.

This trip home, I've felt that my hometown is a truly peaceful place. I never used to like it, because it was too far, too remote, the internet was too bad, the roads were too narrow, and nothing was convenient. Now it suddenly hits me that those are exactly the things that make it feel so peaceful.

I don't know most of the people here very well. None of the neighbors around us are people I'm close to. Most of the people living here now are old, sixty and up, and their children are mostly around my father's age, working in other parts of the country. We call some of them by family titles, but they're not blood relatives at all. They're just neighbors. We've never exchanged gifts or shared a meal at the holidays. We just make small talk when we pass on the road, and behind closed doors we're practically strangers.

Part of the peace comes from that. Nobody here is truly connected to me, so I don't have to care about anyone at all.

The internet isn't great. These days we talk a lot about cutting out information noise, and we use all kinds of fancy methods to get there. After coming home, I found that the ultimate way to cut out the noise is simply to go offline.

A lot of Apple's products have names starting with "i." Only after reading Steve Jobs did I learn that the "i" stands for internet, and starting a name with "i" means the product is built entirely around the internet.

I'd say 99% of the information I take in every day comes from my phone, from the internet. Cut off the internet, and you don't need to cut out any noise. But the internet is also deeply tied up with our lives now, whether it's work messages or all kinds of everyday things like shopping and paying bills, and all of that depends on the internet. So for a modern person, getting as far away from the internet as possible is almost impossible in today's society, unless you completely reshape your habits.

Getting around isn't easy either. My hometown is over an hour's drive from the nearest city, and about two or three hours by public transport. To buy things at the market, the closest one is half an hour away on foot, or you take an e-bike or a three-wheeler. If you drive, it gets tricky whenever you have to squeeze past an oncoming car.

These physical conditions mean life here has to be slow, because rushing simply gets you nowhere. If you shop online, the package can only be delivered to the nearby market town, and you have to figure out how to pick it up yourself. If you want groceries, you have to wait for market day. Other than that, the villagers eat the vegetables they grow themselves.

A slow life like this gives you a feeling of peace and calm too.

That's what my hometown is like. The internet isn't great, getting around isn't easy, and I don't know the people around me well.

After dark, the whole world goes dark and quiet. You can't see a thing, and all you can hear are the insects.

At first light, I open the front door and step into the courtyard. I can see the sun just starting to rise in the distance, with birdsong in my ears and a rooster crowing now and then.

At the edge of the courtyard, the flowers we planted have bloomed, and a little morning dew rests on their petals.