原文抄录
口述人：郭缺（女，1929年出生，河南省临颍县大郭乡大郭村）
采访人：郭睿（女，1988年出生，草场地工作站驻站）
采访时间：2012年2月3日
采访地点：大郭乡敬老院
采访笔记：
1月31号，我开始在大郭乡敬老院采访，当天见到了郭缺老人，知道她80多岁，看起来身体健朗，当时天色已晚，就跟她约了改天来采访。2月3号吃过中饭，我去敬老院找她，她没在屋子里，我就去隔壁找靳枝老人聊天，靳枝老人又带我去采访她的本家亲戚王花老人，从王花老人家出来之后，我送靳老人回敬老院，遇到了外出买东西回来的郭缺老人，开始采访。
按辈份我称呼她为姑姑，因为她已经知道我在敬老院采访“年景”（饥荒），所以她开口就从1942年开始讲起，讲那时苦旱，“淹三年旱三年，不淹不旱又三年”，“针穿黑豆大街卖，小媳妇换不来一烧饼”……讲家人那时逃荒，16岁的姑姑被卖到泌阳，已是哽咽。又讲到58年，讲夜里拉粪，没得饭吃，连二两也没有，上级检查就把笼盖盖上，说天天吃蒸馍……老人讲述时一直在用感叹词“噫”，拖长音，无尽的岁月辛酸都在其中，闻者叹息。
老人一二十年前便丧夫，现在和残疾儿子同住一间房，看她儿子长相还周正，约四五十岁，见人笑，很热情，身体抖得厉害，不知是什么病症。老人说他“上学上到五年级啊，五年级又上二年，写不成了，不上了”。老人说儿子不会种地，要是会种地也不来这儿（敬老院），多亏了有亲戚帮忙，“够不着人还来不到这儿哩”。
这次采访后过了两天我又去了敬老院，去时老人正在和隔壁房的老太太一起煮汤圆吃，见到我要分我几个，我道谢，没好意思吃。住在敬老院的老人，要么孤寡，要么难自立，能住在“这儿”，也算安乐吧。
口述正文：
挖坑塘
58年，老天爷，深翻地哩，挖坑塘抬坑塘哩，那老婆儿家，你想着，那挖里多么深呐，噫，都是老婆儿家抬哩呀，你不抬？你还不敢吭气儿，你吭气儿，有那老婆儿家，一说，妥了，开会，一开会，扒她，都扒开了。
夜里拉粪
黑咾，推水车，拉粪。那麦苗，浆这麦，十来月间，十一月间，都是朝地里上粪哩不是，黑咾拉哩呀，都是叫黑咾拉粪，你不着十一月间咾冷啊，都是穿俩，糊皮（外面）穿个大棉袄，穿俩棉袄，噫，叫你拉哩，噫。就怕黑咾，黑哩你不着（知），那黑着，对哪儿照不见人呐，那十一月间那冷着哩啊，噫。
58年我没咋干重活
噫，我也胆小，要说这58年呐，我还没下恁大劲，我咋没下恁大劲哩，俺姑奶奶家哩孩儿，俺表叔哩不是，俺那表婶儿做活不咾中，俺那表叔，当队长哩，这叫我去给他做活。是干重活咾，俺表叔都喊我去了，我也下住重活。他咾，显好些。有那（别人）咾，你搁家你不干活儿？都不得吃饭呐！不领你饭呐。
批斗
那时候，真是呀，不敢听说啥，听说一句话，妥了，扒他/她，站那顶上，跟小孩儿玩了站那，老鼠拱石耳洞样，站那两锵（边），那时候不都是小脚，吭哧推这锵（边），吭哧推那锵（边），噫，成天叫你吓哩跟啥样。
食堂吃二两不到
这58年，成天抬坑塘，提起抬坑塘，那还是叫吃？一说晌午了，放工了，去吃，不定是稀水儿了，秫黍面，秫黍面浆糊，使那小黑碗龛（盖）哩，就那一个，烧点儿咸茶，扙（放）点盐，烧清水。
都是饥哩没法儿，说哩二两，二两也没，净是茶，净是茶。噫，那红薯柴子（块），埋那粪坑底下，这过年二三月间又叫锄出，又扒出。人家东乡那地里，犁那，都拾那坏红薯，
拔野菜
那时候，是叫吃？还不叫吃啊。你干到月明都出了，领那一点儿，茶，稀水儿，那是汤？都不是汤啊。那罐儿搁那院里，照那月明（月亮），明晃晃哩。自己搁地里咾，那一年啥，那一年（有）红叶苗，深翻地哩，翻着，歇咾，麻利勒（拔），歇咾麻利勒。勒勒咾回来，去领去（领饭）咾，麻利搁家，炸炸，炸炸咾，掿掿（抓抓），剁剁，搁那汤里头搅搅，都成天吃那里。红叶苗，你都不强着（不知道），恁妈幸着（可能知道）。
那一年咾多，你不着刚麦罢，麦茬多深（高），那红叶苗比它都深，都是勒哩那，勒点子，勒点子咾，噫，就那，黑咾都是吃哩那呀！噫。
吃那茨茭芽，茨茭芽根儿，吃那苇根，刨那苇根，噫，就那一股土腥气，那真难吃，吃麦秸，啥都吃过。
应付检查
说是检查哩，伙房里赶紧叫笼龛（盖）上，叫笼龛上，那弄啥哩？那净是假哩呀，说着，检查咾说，成天吃蒸馍。
English Transcript
Interview notes
I began my interview at Daguo Town Nursing House on Jan. 31st. On that day, I met the elder Guo Que and learnt that she was in her eighties but looked healthy. It was late at that time, so I scheduled a future interview with her. On Feb. 3rd, I went to the nursing home for her after lunch, but she was not in her room. Therefore, I went to the next door to chat with the elder Jin Zhi, who later brought me to interview her relative, the elder Wang Hua. After I left Wang Hua’s home, I took Jin Zhi back to the nursing house and met Guo Que who just came back from shopping. Then our interview started.
In terms of generation, I should call her aunt. Since she had already known that I was interviewing on famines at the nursing house, she began at 1942, when “there were floods and droughts but few favorable years,” and “black beans were pinned on a needle and sold on the streets, and a young wife was even cheaper than a sesame seed cake…” She sobbed when talking about her families fleeing from the famine and sold her sixteen-year-old aunt to Biyang. Then she talked about 1958, when she carried dung at night but had no food, not even two liangs (one liang=50g). During inspection from higher authorities, people closed the food steamer and claimed to eat steamed breads every day… The elder used a lot of long “alas”in her account. The exclamations encapsulated her miseries throughout life and touched everyone.
The elder lost her husband nearly two decades ago. Now she lived in the same room with her disabled son. In his forties, the son looked fair. he smelled at people and was very warm. His body shook vehemently due to unknown disease. The elder said that her son “attended school until fifth grade. He spent two years at fifth grade but couldn’t write anymore, so he dropped off.” She told me that he couldn’t farm, or he wouldn’t be here (the nursing house). He came here thanks to the help from relatives. “You need networks to live here.”
Two days after the interview, I visited the nursing house again. When I arrived, the elder was boiling sweet dumplings with a neighbor old woman. She offered some to me, but I refused politely. Elders in the nursing house either lost all families or can’t take care of themselves. It might be a happiness for them to live “here.”
Transcript:
Dug reservoirs
Alas, in 1958 we were ordered to plow the field deep and dug reservoirs. Women did the work. Just think about how deep we had to dig. Alas, women had to dig and remove dirt. And you even dared not to complain. If you did? Some did complain, and they were repressed harshly on assemblies.
Carried dung at night
In darkness, I worked waterwheel and carried dung. When watering wheat seedlings in October and November, dung needed to be spread on the ground. We were told to carry dung at night, but it was cold at night in November, so I wore two cotton coats when working, alas. It was scary in darkness, because I couldn’t see anything or anyone. It was cold too in November, alas.
I didn’t toil much in 1958
Alas, I was timid. Speaking of 1958, I actually didn’t work too hard. Why? My second cousin—the son of my grandaunt—was a team leader at that time. His wife was bad at work, so he asked me to work for him—heavy work. Since he called me, I had to go. He was rather kind to me, though. Some people stayed at home and didn’t work. Guess what? They didn’t receive food at all!
Repression
For real, back then, nobody dared to speak. If you were found to have said something wrong, you would be tortured 100%. You would be forced to stand, with people standing on both side of you, like a child game of rat standing under a stone arch. Women all had bound feet at that time. They were pushed from one side to the other, back and forth. Alas, people were terrified every day.
Ate less than two liangs at the canteen
In 1958, we did river construction all day long, but what did we eat? Once we hit the lunch break, all we had for meal was thin sorghum paste. Each got a small black bowl of it, along with some salt tea made by boiling a bit salt in water.
People starved so badly. The ration was said to be two liangs, but in reality it was always less, and we had to drink a lot of tea. Alas, sweet potatoes were buried under cesspits and were dug out in the next February and March. In Dongxiang, people collected rotted sweet potatoes after plowing the field.
Picked wild plants
There was no food to speak of. You worked until dawn but only received tea and a little soup, which was too thin to be called soup. Soup was in a jar in the yard. It was so thin that reflection of moon could be seen clearly on its surface. In that year, we cut sprouts of hongyes during breaks when plowing. We brought them back home, fried, grabbed and chopped them before putting them into the soup we claimed from the canteen. That was what we ate. You don’t even know what is a sprout of hongye. Your mother might know.
We ate them a lot that year. At that time, wheat had grown tall, but hongyes were even taller. We cut a bit of them and ate them at night, alas.
I also ate sprouts and roots of wild rice. I dug reed roots to eat too. Alas, they tasted like dirt, so disgusting. I ate wheat stalks and what not.
Dealt with inspection
When people came to inspect, the kitchen hurried closed the food steamer. Why? Because they lied to the inspector that people ate steamed breads every day.
