‘Mawu Educated Youth’ Day Trip: 45-Year Retrospect from Xi’an to Gaoqiao by Metro and Bus

Xi’an’s metro and intercity transportation have developed at lightning speed. Last year I heard that Line 5 had already extended to Gaoqiao Township—the very place where I was sent as an “educated youth” to work in the countryside. Forty-five years ago, answering the national call “It is necessary for educated youth to go to the countryside and be re-educated by the poor and lower-middle peasants” and “Vast opportunities lie in the great countryside,” I and a group of urban high-school graduates went to Gaoqiao Township in Chang’an County, becoming genuine farmers. Later we all returned to the city to work, busy with jobs and families, and transport wasn’t convenient, so we rarely had the chance to revisit the village. Now that the metro reaches the village entrance, I wanted to go back and see the place where we labored 45 years ago, where we shed sweat, tears, and even blood; where we shared food, shelter, and work with simple, kind, and hardworking villagers; where we reaped the fruits of spring planting, autumn harvest, and winter storage; where we lived stories bitter, sweet, sour, spicy, and salty—a full mix of flavors. The name that left an indelible mark on us is “educated youth sent to the mountains and countryside,” and it is a place we’ve held in our hearts all our lives... Mawu Village.

“Mawu Village,” as its name suggests, has to do with horses. A place of outstanding people and rich land, Mawu is a famous large village within a radius of dozens of li, with over 4,000 mu of arable land and a population of more than 2,600. It belongs to the Gaoqiao Subdistrict Office of Fengdong New Town, Xixian New Area, Xi’an, Shaanxi Province. Historical records show that horse breeding existed here as early as the Western Zhou Dynasty. Judging from unearthed chariot remains in the Fengjing Western Zhou chariot pits, horses were used for driving chariots, and the emperor held an annual “horse-driving ceremony” for horse administration. During the Han and Tang dynasties, large-scale horse breeding also took place here. Many surrounding villages have connections with horses. The area has always been rich in water resources, nourished by the Feng River flowing alongside; its waters are blue-green, elm pods and willow catkins abound, the land is high and flat, pastures lush, and flooding never an issue—making it a natural horse farm. Thus, in ancient times, it was used for military horse breeding and opening up farmland.

Mawu Village has produced many notable people, with Xue Yunsheng being the most representative. Xue was a formidable figure in the late Qing Dynasty, passing the imperial examination and serving as an official for 41 years. He was upright, honest, and strict, rising to the position of Minister of Justice. Impartially enforcing the law, he had Li Changcai, a eunuch serving Empress Dowager Cixi who killed someone and resisted arrest, executed. As a result, he was dismissed and returned home. After returning home, Xue raised funds to build the Feng River Bridge, named Gaoqiao (High Bridge), which is today’s West Gaoqiao. The Gaoqiao Subdistrict Office’s name originated from this. After the founding of the People’s Republic, the Xue family ancestral hall became Fengxi First Elementary School, later Mawu Primary School.

On this trip, we “educated youth” made plans to go together, but for various reasons only seven could make it. We set out at 7 a.m., taking Metro Line 5 to Gaoqiao Station. Along the way, beautiful scenery unfolded: lush green wheat fields, rivers, villages, sculpture-like bridges, parks, and playgrounds. The route passes famous tourist spots like the Epang Palace Site Park, Kunming Pool Qixi Park, Happy Valley, Shijingli, and Fenghe Ecological Scenic Area. But we had no time to linger; our hearts were already picturing the moment we’d see the village and its people.

Around 9 a.m. we exited Gaoqiao Station at Exit B1. There’s a bus that goes directly to the village entrance, but we chose to walk back for half an hour to see how things had changed along the way. The old gravel roads have been replaced by asphalt or concrete, shaded by green trees on both sides. Waves of wheat roll lush and invitingly. The once bare roadside is now lined with shops and restaurants—a scene of prosperity. The Mawu Village Committee is set in a large compound by the road. At the entrance stood Brother Mao, who had been waiting for a long time, along with village leaders. Words of excitement and gratitude burst from us. Brother Mao had heard the night before that we were coming and canceled plans to attend a wedding in the city; he contacted the village committee leaders and fellow villagers, specially greeted us, and arranged a series of activities.

The village leaders handed us two beautifully bound, weighty copies of the Village Chronicle. On the title page were inscriptions by the highly respected Brother Mao, a Mawu native, and a calligrapher. Their words were full of deep affection, lingering hope, and the rich cultural and rustic heritage of Mawu Village. Hearing of our arrival, Brother Guangsheng had his family prepare lunch and drinks well in advance. The lunch featured jiaotuan and yu yu—our all-time favorite dishes as educated youths, now rare delicacies in the city. Amid eating and drinking, laughter and chatter were like those of carefree children back then. To have such spirit and joy with white hair now feels like a karmic gathering from a past life.

After lunch, Little Brother Xue led us through all eight of the village’s fortified sections, hamlets, and streets, across the land where we once shed our sweat. We saw many villagers who looked vaguely familiar yet strange. Those who recognized each other hurried to catch up and share joy. Some younger villagers who didn’t know us asked, “What are these old folks doing?” Those who knew quickly explained that we were the “educated youth” who came to the village back then—still part of the village. When we asked for a small shop, a middle-aged man on an electric scooter turned around and led us the opposite way, then left without a word—pure hometown warmth and simplicity. Later we ran into him again and had completely forgotten he had guided us; we just felt he looked familiar. Only then did he mention leading the way.

As we covered a long distance and many places, Brother Kang rushed to buy bottled water and delivered it on his electric scooter. While touring the village, we passed Little Brother Xue’s home. His wife and children were all very warm, though they are busy with their own careers. Taking time from their hectic schedules to guide us, their enthusiasm and attention to detail spoke volumes of their hard work. As we prepared to leave, we met a very young village cadre, a pretty young mother with a child. Hearing that we, a group of elderly strangers who could be her parents’ age, were about to leave, she quickly called a vehicle to take us to the station and then to a restaurant.

As Brother Mao wrote on the title page, the people of Mawu have not forgotten us educated youth. Although individual names may blur, the term “Mawu educated youth” has been handed down through the village. Today’s Mawu Village is worlds apart from what it was. Every household has replaced earthen houses with modern buildings, dirt village roads with concrete ones, and the school’s earthen walls with brick walls; the school buildings are completely renewed. Every face brims with happy smiles, not a trace left of the famine-stricken, poverty-worn looks of the past. Their clothing, food, and living conditions are indistinguishable from city dwellers—fashionable, comfortable, even relaxed and artistic. We joked that if Mawu had been like this decades ago, the female educated youth wouldn’t have wanted to leave; they all sighed, truly not wanting to go.

The warm, thoughtful, and painstaking reception from village committee leaders, old brothers, and villagers—delicious food, the gift of the Village Chronicle, a tour of the entire village, and stories past and present—was deeply rewarding. At 4 p.m., hearing we were heading back to the city, the villagers and old brothers saw us off at the door, the village entrance, the station entrance, their reluctance to part written all over their faces. We were moved and grateful!

At a hotel near the station, we shared a toast of gratitude and farewell. When we said we’d meet again if chance allows, our eyes brimmed and voices choked. Let’s wish Mawu Village a better and better future, and all its villagers ever greater happiness and health! The “educated youth” boarded Metro Line 5 back to the city, hearts still rippling with the wheat waves of Mawu, ears still ringing with the villagers’ heartfelt local blessings. Thank you, Mawu! Thank you, villagers! We will come back…