I remember that life was particularly difficult at that time. My brothers were almost not too hungry but could not be full, and snacks and candies were very scarce. Once, my third sister, who often took me along, was at home with me while the adults were working. One day, a rural supply and marketing worker brought two sacks of mint candy on a cow's back, placed them in the center of the tent circle, and set up a stall to sell the candy to the public. My sister and I had no money in our hands and drooled foolishly while watching. Unable to resist, I grabbed a handful and ran away. At that time, I was probably 5 or 6 years old. The vendor caught me, pried my fingers open one by one, and took the candy back. The old lady in the village scolded me verbally but still took out some candy to give me. That was the time I got the most candy in my childhood, not just a handful, but it tasted very strange and felt particularly unappetizing.
When I was a child, I suffered a significant loss during a fight. At that time, I was about 10 years old, and we were with another group of children. One of the kids, who was two or three years older than me, used a hoe to scrape my face, creating a wound about 4 centimeters long. The leather coat was heavy, and my shoes had raw cowhide soles, which were very slippery. My face was covered in blood, and the collar of my leather coat was soaked in blood. I chased after him but couldn't catch up. This was the biggest loss I suffered, and even now, I can still see that scar on the left side of my face.
At that time, it was the middle of winter. A student from a provincial health school named Tashi, who was a relative of ours, twisted a large sewing needle we used into a hook shape to make a medical suture needle. After heating the needle over a fire, my older brother, who liked to sew cowhide, had a bit of sheep gut thread. That day, my brother was not at home, and the family found a few centimeters of medical sheep gut thread from his belongings. Tashi stitched me up with four stitches without any anesthesia, and it hurt terribly. The adults said, "Aren't you tough? Don't you love to fight? Then just endure it." A week later, my brother rode a horse with me on his back to the county hospital to remove the stitches. The doctor said, "Who stitched this? It was done really well." Now that I am older, if you look closely, you can still see a bit of the scar.
Tashi later graduated from medical school and worked as a doctor in the county until he retired a few years ago. The kid who hit me later became a monk at Labrang Monastery.
Back then, it was different from now; there was no compensation for medical expenses or anything like that. When kids fought, they just fought; if they lost, they lost, and if they won, they won. If we talk about it now, at least there would be a compensation of ten to twenty thousand yuan.
Our tents were arranged in a circle, with each small team forming a circle. Our small team had about 30 households, and the tent group formed a circle. The households in the small team were different; some larger teams had over 40 households, while smaller ones had about 20 households. Our small team was of medium size.
Our large team was called Duote, which was divided into several small teams, and we were the second small team.
Our second small team was called the "Wayan" tribe before the county was established in 1954. This tribe's name is actually a pronunciation issue in the Amdo region; the correct Mongolian pronunciation should be "Bayan," meaning "rich."
3 Childhood
Zhang Wan: Which year did you start school, and what was the situation like at that time?
Tsering Dondrub: I started elementary school in September 1974 at the primary school in Henan County. The Tibetan language class was a boarding school, about ten kilometers from home. Generally, my older brother would ride a horse and carry me on his back to school, which usually took one to two hours. Sometimes in the summer, the journey home could turn into dozens of kilometers due to the grassland migration; the summer pastures were relatively far, about thirty to forty kilometers from the county town where the school was located.
When going to school, I usually didn't bring anything, as I ate and lived at school, and there was no place to spend money. When I left home, my family often gave me a few yuan, and when my family came to see me at school, they would also give me one or two yuan. At that time, the stores in the county town had candies and other tempting things for children, but they were only available with tickets, so I couldn't buy them.
I wore a leather coat made by my family, along with single-layer clothes and cotton clothes and pants. Sometimes the school would distribute them once a year. I remember the single-layer clothes were like a three-pocket Zhongshan suit, in blue khaki or gray. The cotton clothes and pants were distributed every two years. There were no vests or autumn clothes and pants as underwear. Even now, I still think of autumn clothes and pants as basketball jerseys and shorts, believing they are meant for playing basketball. Because when playing basketball, the school had a team, and during competitions, they would distribute sportswear, which would be collected back after the games. I didn't even have socks; I only remember wearing socks when I got to middle school.
I stayed in elementary school for two full years, from September 1974 to September 1975, and I started middle school in 1976.
The situation at that time was like this: there was a village-run school with half-day classes, morning classes, and afternoon dismissals. The older children would go home to help with herding. During this time, my older brother and second sister were teachers at the village school. I learned some Tibetan from them, and my brother also taught me a bit of Chinese characters. So, after I started elementary school, I underwent a simple interview. The school teacher asked me if I could read. I said I could. Then a teacher brought a newspaper for me to read. It was a Tibetan newspaper. After reading a passage, they told me to go directly to the second grade. I studied in the second grade for about a week, and then a teacher asked me to go to the third grade. I stayed in the third grade for a whole year. Then I skipped to the fifth grade. The current elementary school is six years, but the elementary school at that time was five years, and I finished my elementary school in two years. Then I went to middle school.
Middle school was still at the same school. Although this middle school was together with the elementary school, it was a branch of the Huangnan Prefecture Normal School. This school assigned jobs right after graduation; normal school graduates generally became teachers. I studied in middle school for three full years, went through puberty, and started to be mischievous. I engaged in petty theft and fights. Our favorite place to steal from was the milk powder factory, which not only had milk powder but also white sugar and produced milk candy, and we went there to steal every day.
The management of the milk powder factory was quite chaotic, with many students, and the factory couldn't manage it all. They chased one and another would steal, and we, who were naive, just stole a little food. I remember one cunning student who, during the holidays, managed to bring back about 50 kilograms of white sugar, which was considered a significant fortune in 1977, 1978, and 1979. The workers at the milk powder factory wore uniforms, which were fashionable clothes at that time, and we also went to steal those. A little friend from our village, who was quite honest, I asked him to steal milk powder with me. When we got there, I saw an iron box on the second floor, filled with milk powder floating like snowflakes, with a foot thick layer of milk powder at the bottom. I stood guard while he went in, and when he came out, he was covered in milk powder, looking like a milk powder porter.
I told him, "You can't look like this; you'll be discovered." So, he turned his clothes inside out.
At that time, I didn't think about bringing any bags or anything; the stolen milk powder filled two pockets of our clothes.
We went to the riverside to eat the milk powder. When I tasted the milk powder he stole, it didn't taste right, so I didn't eat much. He ate it to the last bite, and as a result, it might not have been processed well. A few minutes after he finished eating, he started throwing up endlessly, drinking river water while throwing up.
We even went to the cinema entrance, taking advantage of the crowd to snatch soldiers' hats. I snatched several hats back and forth. Some I sold to others, and some I gave to good friends.
At that time, mischievous and daring boys would engage in such thrilling challenges.
The only good student who skipped grades in middle school was Gong Baojie. Originally, he was a grade lower than me, but he skipped up to my class, and we are still trustworthy friends to this day. He is now a professor at Northwest Minzu University.
Tsering Dondrub was born in October 1961 in Henan County, Qinghai. From the age of 7 or 8 to 13, he helped with household herding, and from 13 to 21, he attended school. He has worked as a middle school teacher, in judicial documentation, and in compiling historical records. He retired early in 2013 to focus on literary creation. Since 1982, he has published over two million words of novels in Tibetan and Chinese. Some of his novels have been translated into English, French, German, Japanese, Swedish, Dutch, Hungarian, and both old and new Mongolian, and have been included in textbooks for universities in Tibetan and Mongolian regions as well as some overseas universities. He has won numerous domestic and international literary awards.
The life goal is to be born in the tenth month of 1961 in the region of the Tibetan Plateau. From the age of 7 to 13, I was engaged in herding. From 13 to 21, I attended school. I worked as a teacher and in various roles such as editing and compiling historical documents. In 2013, I retired early to focus on literary creation. Since 1983, I have published over two million words in Tibetan and Chinese literature. Some of my works have been translated into various languages, including English, French, and German, and have been included in textbooks in Tibetan and Mongolian regions and some overseas universities. I have received numerous literary awards both domestically and internationally.