The Women of Chihkan Community Clean Up Environmental Sanitation
11
Outside the women’s meeting house of the Chihkan community, insects chirped in overlapping rhythms. The air was thick with the damp scent of leaves and soil. The meeting house was a crude structure woven from wooden pillars and rattan, its roof covered with dried rice straw. Inside, the lighting was dim; bamboo lanterns cast a warm orange glow, faintly illuminating the totems and hunting tools hanging on the walls.
Junsheng and Shayun stood encircled by a group of women. Some had their hands on their hips, others folded their arms across their chests, while a few bent down to inspect the objects laid out on the ground. Beside Shayun were several earthen jars and glass bottles filled with clean and dirty water, along with a neatly folded white mosquito net. Curious glances flickered among the women, accompanied by a constant murmur of whispered conversation.
Dabangya stepped into the center of the crowd and raised her thick, muscular arm to signal for silence.
“Sisters, we have gathered today so that everyone may learn how to protect our families from infectious diseases and live healthy lives. I have invited this foreign doctor to explain these matters to us.”
Limei, standing in the front row, nodded eagerly.
“This foreign doctor is no ordinary person. My sama had terrible stomach pains a few days ago and kept running to the latrine—he was completely exhausted. Shayun said there was nothing she could do, but luckily we met this doctor. After two days of medicine, he was cured.”
“That’s right!” another woman, Lalu, chimed in. “My brother Kali’s fever illness was cured by Doctor Junsheng. His medical skills are truly remarkable!”
As she spoke, Lalu smiled at Junsheng, her eyes sparkling with admiration and gratitude. Seeing this, Shayun’s lips curved ever so slightly upward.
Junsheng stepped forward, his tone gentle yet clear.
“I am Junsheng from the Netherlands. Thank you, sisters, for your kind words. The chief has given me this opportunity to share some concepts and methods for preventing disease.”
He scanned the room, meeting each pair of eyes to ensure their attention. Lalu clasped her hands together, smiling intently. Limei stroked her chin, deep in thought.
Junsheng continued,
“Many infectious diseases arise because we neglect environmental and personal hygiene. That is why we must learn to prevent illness in advance and take practical measures.”
A voice called out from the crowd.
“Doctor, what kind of practical measures?”
Junsheng gave a slight nod to Shayun. She bent down, picked up a glass jar, and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed lightly in the brief exchange.
Holding the jar up, Junsheng revealed murky water inside, with several black larvae wriggling restlessly, like anxious souls churning in the depths.
“This water is already contaminated, and mosquito larvae are growing in it. Please take a close look.”
The jar passed from hand to hand. Some women gasped, others frowned, and some widened their eyes in shock.
“So these little worms are mosquito larvae?” Limei leaned in, her eyes filled with curiosity and revulsion.
“Yes,” Junsheng explained. “Mosquitoes lay their eggs in stagnant water. The larvae hatch and grow there. If we leave water containers exposed, we give mosquitoes the opportunity to multiply.”
Lalu frowned. “Then what should we do?”
Junsheng picked up two earthen jars, one in each hand.
“The water in my left hand has been boiled. The water in my right hand is raw. They may taste the same, but raw water contains many bacteria and microorganisms invisible to the naked eye. Drinking it can make us sick, even cost lives.”
“But when I’m hunting in the mountains, I drink stream water and nothing happens,” Lalu interjected.
Junsheng smiled.
“You may be strong, or perhaps lucky enough not to drink polluted water. But we cannot rely on luck alone.”
Shayun added,
“The doctor means we should always prepare clean boiled water. Even when working or hunting outdoors, we can carry boiled water in deer-skin flasks or bamboo tubes.”
Daya laughed.
“Lalu, you’re so strong that even mosquitoes probably don’t dare bite you.”
Laughter rippled through the group. Lalu laughed along, unbothered by the teasing.
At that moment, Junsheng picked up the white mosquito net.
“Shayun, hold the other end for me.”
She nodded and stepped forward. Together, they stretched the net open. The white mesh glowed softly under the lantern light, like a woven curtain of light.
“This net prevents mosquitoes from entering, especially those that spread fever diseases. If patients sleep under it, mosquitoes won’t bite them, and the disease won’t spread easily.”
Dabangya looked around at the crowd.
“The doctor is right. Sisters, we’ve learned a lot today, but these methods must be put into practice. I propose we divide the village into groups and clean the environment together.”
“Great! That’s wonderful!” Limei exclaimed, waving her hands excitedly.
“And we ask Doctor Junsheng to guide us along the way,” Dabangya said respectfully.
Junsheng smiled gently.
“I would be happy to help.”
12
In the lanes of Chihkan community, morning light spilled softly onto the bluestone paths, as if laying a warm golden veil over the land. Wooden houses and thatched huts stood in harmonious clusters. Red cloth strips hung at doorways, swaying gently in the breeze, while the scents of grass and cooking smoke mingled in the air.
Junsheng and Shayun walked side by side, their steps light. Shayun’s long hair was tied into a bundle, swaying slightly with each step. Junsheng held sheets of paper recording patients’ conditions, occasionally lifting his head to exchange greetings with villagers.
Villagers tidying their homes greeted them warmly as they passed.
“Doctor!” one villager waved. “We followed your advice and started clearing the standing water in front of our houses!”
Junsheng nodded with a smile.
“That’s excellent. A clean home leads to a healthy life. Keep it up!”
Shayun bent down to inspect a water jar outside one house, stirring the surface with her hand.
“This water should be changed regularly, or mosquitoes will breed.”
Another villager approached, holding a frail child, gratitude written all over her face.
“Doctor, after using the ointment you prescribed, my son’s itchy skin has improved.”
Junsheng gently patted the child’s shoulder, smiling warmly.
“Your son’s itching was caused by flea bites. Apply the medicine regularly and it will heal. Remember to wash and sun-dry bedding often, and you can spray chili water or garlic water in the bedroom to repel insects.”
The villager nodded vigorously.
“Yes, doctor! Thank you!”
At that moment, another woman carrying a bamboo basket approached with a radiant smile.
“Shayun, the beans you gave me have grown so many pods!”
Shayun clapped her hands in delight.
“That’s wonderful! The bean kernels can be cooked with millet into porridge, and the pods can be steamed and eaten with sauce.”
Nearby, Daya approached, panting, her hands caked with mud.
Junsheng noticed the clogged ditch in front of her house and frowned slightly.
“Daya, the drainage ditch in front of your house is blocked. That can easily breed mosquitoes. It needs to be cleared soon.”
Daya tilted her head, catching her breath.
“I remember what you said! Once I finish washing the jars, I’ll clear the ditch.”
Suddenly, a creaking ox cart rolled slowly down the lane. Kali drove the cart, loaded with goods—wooden barrels and burlap sacks swaying with the motion. When he saw Junsheng and Shayun walking side by side, his gaze froze for a moment.
Kali raised his hand and forced a casual tone.
“Junsheng, Shayun! I’m heading to Chihkan City to deliver goods. Want me to stop by Dayuan Port Clinic and pick up some medicine for you?”
Junsheng smiled and shook his head.
“No need for now. The clinic still has enough medicine for the time being.”
Kali scratched the back of his head, unable to hide the heaviness in his voice.
“Alright then… I’ll get going.”
Shayun waved.
“Take care on the road, Kali.”
The ox cart creaked away, Kali’s back looking unusually heavy. The swaying cargo mirrored the unease in his heart.
He muttered to himself,
“Why do Shayun and Junsheng seem inseparable lately? Could it be that Shayun… No. I must take the initiative during the upcoming Firefly Festival…”
13
Kali swung his machete by the bamboo grove. Sunlight filtered through towering bamboo leaves, scattering dappled light across his arms and blade. Each strike produced a sharp crack as bamboo split apart, fragments flying as though the air itself trembled.
Nearby, Daya approached with a basket full of freshly harvested green bamboo shoots, speckled with soil.
Smiling, she asked,
“Kali, what are you cutting bamboo for?”
She set the basket down, hands on her hips, suspicion flickering in her eyes.
Startled, Kali flushed and stammered,
“N–nothing! Just cutting some bamboo to fix the… railing outside the house! Yes, the railing!”
Daya raised an eyebrow, smirking.
“I don’t think so. Usually your sister Lalu cuts bamboo.”
Kali turned away in a panic and resumed chopping, but struck too hard and jammed the blade into a bamboo joint. He cursed softly and struggled to pull it free.
“Lalu’s busy studying mosquito nets, so she sent me!” His voice trembled.
Daya crossed her arms casually.
“Your face is red, and you still claim your sister sent you? If I’m not mistaken, you’re preparing for the Firefly Festival. I’ve known you long enough, Kali.”
Kali scratched his head awkwardly.
“Daya, I…”
She sighed softly, her gaze gentle.
Limei and I have known for a long time—you like Shayun, the chief’s daughter. We think you’re a good match.”
She paused, then added with quiet concern,
“But since that blond foreign doctor appeared, Shayun seems completely captivated by him. If you want to be with her, you’ll need to be more proactive.”
Kali stared at his machete, lost and dejected.
“I feel it too… Shayun has changed—like the wind in this bamboo grove suddenly shifting direction.”
Daya smiled and patted his shoulder.
“Then confess during the Firefly Festival. Bamboo must be cut, and words must be spoken. Keeping them inside won’t help.”
Kali’s grip tightened, trembling slightly. He finally looked up, resolve flickering in his eyes.
“I plan to… but I’m afraid she’ll reject me.”
Daya shook her head firmly.
“Fear is natural. But you have to try.”
After a long pause, Kali forced a bitter smile.
“Maybe you’re right. Thank you, Daya.”
She waved lightly.
“Finish cutting the bamboo and head home. Don’t let your courage blow away with the wind.”
As she walked down the path, Kali watched her back, gripping the machete tightly, as though he had finally made up his mind.
14
At noon in the Chihkan Community Chinese Medical Clinic, sunlight slanted through paper-paned windows, casting a warm sheen across the wooden examination table. Bamboo blinds swayed gently, carrying in soft breezes mixed with distant sounds of chickens and dogs.
Having finished seeing patients, Junsheng carefully cleaned his silver needles and instruments. The scent of alcohol lingered on his fingers, his movements precise and swift, like a general tending weapons after battle.
Shayun emerged from the dispensary carrying a basket of sun-dried herbs, her steps light yet hesitant.
“Doctor, fewer people have come for treatment these past few days.”
She set the basket down, her eyes bright with quiet joy.
“That’s a good sign,” Junsheng said, closing the wooden case with a crisp click.
“It means our disease-prevention efforts are working.” His voice carried steady pride.
“By the way,” Shayun added softly, fingers brushing the herbs,
“Our annual Firefly Festival is coming soon.”
“Firefly Festival?” Junsheng raised an eyebrow.
Her cheeks flushed.
“It’s… basically a lovers’ festival. Young men and women gather at night to drink, sing, and dance. Then the men confess their feelings.”
Junsheng chuckled, arms folded.
“Oh? Sounds interesting.”
“You should come and see,” Shayun said playfully. “You might be moved.”
“Moved?” Junsheng smiled faintly.
“I haven’t really thought about that.”
“That’s fine,” she said, hiding nervousness behind a smile.
“Just come with me. If you fancy a girl, tell me—I’ll help.”
“Help?” Junsheng laughed lightly.
“Look how busy I am every day. Where would I find time for romance?”
“When you meet someone you like, you’ll want to,” she murmured.
“Perhaps,” he replied, his gaze lingering on her face.
She stepped closer, eyes sparkling.
“Want me to prepare a firefly bamboo tube for you? It might come in handy.”
“A firefly bamboo tube?” he asked curiously.
“It’s the token men use to confess on that night!”
Junsheng laughed helplessly.
“I think I’ll pass. I’m just going to observe.”
Her smile dimmed slightly, but she quickly turned away to busy herself with the herbs.
Junsheng watched her back as the breeze stirred loose leaves, drifting between them like unspoken feelings—present, yet elusive.
15
At a bamboo desk by the window, Junsheng leaned forward slightly, his pen whispering across yellowed pages. Moonlight filtered through banana leaves, scattering like silver across the tabletop and illuminating his calm, focused face. Shadows swayed gently on the bamboo-and-mud walls, like a silent tide.
The door creaked softly as Kali stepped inside, careful with his footsteps, though the wooden floor still sighed faintly. He stood behind Junsheng, hesitating.
“Doctor, you’re still awake?” Kali asked quietly.
Junsheng paused and smiled.
“Yes. I’m writing my journal.”
“Your journal?” Kali stepped closer.
“Just recording the important things that happened today.”
Kali nodded vaguely.
“Oh… um… what do you think of my sister Lalu?”
Junsheng looked up calmly.
“Lalu? She’s generous and easy to get along with.”
“That’s not what I mean,” Kali said softly, staring intently.
“I mean… have you noticed how she feels about you…”
His voice faltered. Junsheng raised an eyebrow, puzzled.
“You mean because she sewed clothes for me?”
“No,” Kali shook his head anxiously.
“Since you arrived, she’s become gentler. Before, we argued all the time. My sama said she was as rough as a man.”
“As a man?” Junsheng echoed.
“Strong-willed. Not delicate,” Kali said with a self-mocking smile.
“But since you came, she’s changed.”
Junsheng shook his head sincerely.
“I don’t see it. Lalu has always been gentle.”
“That’s because of you,” Kali insisted.
“She changed for you.”
After a pause, Junsheng said softly,
“I understand. But to me, Lalu is like my younger sister. My own sister died of illness years ago.”
Kali froze, regret flickering in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Junsheng.”
“Don’t worry,” Junsheng said gently.
“She died of acute pneumonia. I watched her fade away, helpless. That’s why I became a doctor.”
Moonlight dripped through banana leaves like silent tears. Frogs and insects sang endlessly.
Kali took a breath.
“Tomorrow night is the Firefly Festival. Would you like to go?”
Junsheng set down his pen, smiling.
“I heard about it. I’ll just observe. My focus is on work—I’m not thinking about settling down.”
Kali sighed lightly.
“I was going to prepare a bamboo tube for you. Guess it won’t be needed. Lalu might be disappointed.”
Junsheng smiled bitterly.
“She’s a good girl. I’m sure she’ll find someone better suited for her.”
