Countryside

I can not believe I am spending my only annual holiday in this poor countryside, where there is no shower, no internet, no cars - absolutely nothing useful for me- and I’m in a greenhouse, picking up tomatoes.

I was a Department Manager in Morgan Stanley, one of U.S’s largest financial corporations. Even so, under the pressure of the economic depression, we could not escape its attack. The catastrophic situation was beyond anybody’s expectation, and the fear of lay off was like a thick, dark, and stubborn cloud, keeping the sun out of our world. I could not remember how many nights did I not sleep. Helplessly, I went to my psychic doctor, who was also lack of business; and he suggested me to leave my work and go away from the city for a while. I did not know how this would work. I meant, going for a holiday at that specific time could have given my boss a perfect excuse to fire me; yet, I could not care about that too much - I did not know how much more I could endure.

Under the circumstance, having a hometown to go back might be my only fortune. I smiled bitterly. It took me merely two hours’ drive to get my hometown - not far, but it was another world. The scenery was exactly the same as my memory from many years ago - the narrow muddy road that only allowed one car to pass, the railway with trains constantly roared, the square middle-sized yard which was full of bamboos and nameless flowers, golden wheat in the boundless field was waving with the soft wind, and the only person in sight, grandmother, was standing in the front gate waiting for me. Calm, the only word that filtered into my mind.

“Where have you been these years? Did you forget your old countryside grandma?” Grandma teased me as I approached to her. The familiarity rushed through me - her smile, her tone, her scent - as if I did not leave the square yard at all. What should I say? telling her that I came back because I could not hold the pressure in the city? No, I shook my head, that would hurt her feeling. “Not at all, just so busy all the time.” I muttered, tried to light my tone, and I hugged her like a child. For the first time in months, I could forget about Morgan Stanley and stock market, and regained the feeling of comfort in the arms of my grandma’s.

The sun, as red and round as the tomatoes in my hand, was sinking steadily down the field. Farmers hurried back home on their bicycles when the smoke emerged from the chimneys. Life was simple in the countryside, picking up tomatoes was the only mission. Strangely, my brain was preoccupied by a mission as simple as that, leaving not even one corner for my real world. The noise of train passing by transformed into the perfect lullaby and before I could notice, it was another day.

I do not want to go back, for the piece of calmness that the environment of the countryside left for me, the only calmness that allow me to sleep.