Written and updated by Ruqin
Last updated: March 9, 2026
Growing Up After the Famine
I was born in 1962, just after China had gone through the difficult years often called the “three years of natural disaster.” Food was still scarce when I was a child. Hunger was something most families around us quietly lived with.
When I think about those years now, one image always comes back clearly: the hanging basket in my grandmother’s room.
The basket was tied with a rope and hung from the wooden beam of the house. It stayed high above our heads, out of reach of children. My grandmother used it to store whatever little food the family had. At that time refrigerators did not exist in rural homes, and hanging baskets were a simple way to keep food safe.
As a small boy, I was always curious about that basket.
Three Hungry Boys
I was the youngest of three brothers. In Chinese families we often use simple nicknames for birth order. My eldest brother was called Lao Da, meaning the eldest. My second brother was Lao Er, number two. I was Lao San, the third one.
My parents were raising three growing boys during a time when food was rationed. Each household received a limited number of grain coupons every month. Those coupons were supposed to last until the end of the month.
But three boys could eat a lot.
My brothers and I often finished the family’s ration long before the month ended. My parents sometimes had to borrow extra coupons from relatives, friends, or coworkers just to keep food on the table.
Those were not easy years for young parents.
My Grandmother’s Plan
Seeing how difficult things were in the city, my grandmother came up with a practical solution. She decided to take my brother and me back to our Lao Jia, our ancestral village, where food might be easier to find.
“Lao Jia” literally means “old home.” For our family it meant Zhou Village in Shuyang County, Jiangsu Province, north of the Yangtze River. That region is known as Subei, which historically had a reputation for being poorer and less developed.
Compared with our city home in Jiaxing, life in the village was rougher. Houses were simpler and daily conditions were harder. But at least the village had land and crops.
My grandmother believed we could survive there more easily.
Life in Zhou Village
In Zhou Village, sweet potatoes were the main food for many families, including ours. They were filling and easier to grow than rice or wheat.
We ate sweet potatoes almost every day. Sometimes they were steamed, sometimes boiled. My favorite was dried sweet potato slices. They were chewy, slightly sweet, and easy to store.
I still remember the taste.
In the village, people had a traditional way of drying potatoes called feng gan, which simply means drying them in the natural wind. My grandmother would slice the potatoes and place them in bamboo baskets. Then she hung the baskets where the wind could pass through and slowly dry the slices.
After a few days they became firm and sweet.
The Basket Above My Head
The hanging basket inside the house always attracted my attention. As a small boy, I often looked up at it and wondered what was inside.
“Grandma, let me see the basket,” I would ask.
Sometimes I even tugged at her sleeve and pointed upward.
She usually smiled and said, “There’s nothing in the basket, little grandson.”
At that time I didn’t quite believe her. I thought maybe she was hiding something good for later.
But I also noticed that sometimes she would say, “Wait until tomorrow.”
For a child, tomorrow always sounded hopeful.
Understanding Her Words Later
Only when I grew older did I begin to understand what those words really meant.
There often was very little food left. My grandmother had to manage the small supply carefully so that it would last. When she told me to wait until tomorrow, she was trying to make the present moment easier for a hungry child.
It was her quiet way of stretching both food and hope.
Looking back now, I realize how patient she was with us.
My Grandmother’s Own Hardship
My grandmother had grown up during even harsher times. When she was young, severe food shortages sometimes forced people to eat something called Guanyin clay, also known as “Goddess mud.” It was a type of soft clay that people swallowed to fill their stomachs when there was nothing else to eat.
She had done this herself during those desperate years.
It helped people survive in the short term, but it damaged their bodies.
Many years later, that hardship returned to her in another form.
Her Final Years
My grandmother passed away at the age of seventy-six. The doctor said she had stomach cancer and believed it might have been related to the clay she had eaten during the famine years of her youth.
When I heard that explanation, I felt deeply saddened. Her body had carried the consequences of hunger for most of her life.
Yet she never spoke much about her own suffering.
Remembering the Hanging Basket
Today, when I think back to my childhood, that hanging basket still stands out in my memory. At the time it was simply a place where food was kept out of reach of hungry children.
Now it means something more to me.
It reminds me of my grandmother’s careful management of a household during very difficult years. She protected us as best she could with the little she had. She made sure we felt there would always be something tomorrow.
The basket itself was simple, but the care behind it was not. It represented the quiet strength of a woman who carried her family through hardship with patience and love.
About the Author
Ruqin is the founder of Ruqintravel.com and has spent more than four decades working in China’s travel industry. Drawing on hands-on experience in cities like Beijing and Hangzhou, he personally researches and updates each guide to help international travelers navigate China with confidence.
