Scrutible Enough

Most folks here in the swamp prefer being alone...that's why we live in a swamp. But, people being people, plenty of swamp residents congregate in little groups, same as any place. We have the lesbian vampires, the renegade chinamen, the undead soul singers, all types of little groups.

Most of these little groups live in the Bottom, a couple hundred acres of high ground here in the swamp. Generally dry year round, its a popular spot for sociable types. Me, I rarely go there, crowds make me nervous. As far as the swamp goes, the Bottom is about as crowded as it gets.

Like, one group living in the Bottom is these renegade chinamen. Those folks are so old fashioned, they don't mind being called "chinamen," though I notice no one calls them "renegade" to their faces. These chinamen, I mean Chinese people, originally came to Mississippi to work on Delta plantations. There's three or four of them living in the Bottom, the oldest one, grandma, is said to have been old when she got to the swamp a hundred years ago; I don't know, I wasn't here then. All I know is they say the renegades ran off from the cotton plantation they were working on,and made their way to the swamp with nothing but a four foot wok.

I figure grandma must be 180 years old, at least. She spends most of her time playing a special two handed Mah Jong that she dreamed up with Edwin Edwards, I mean, not Edwin Edwards but a silver haired, silver tongued Cajun ex-governor of the kind of state that would elect a silver haired, silver tongued Cajun as governor. Anyway,we all call him "governor." He's supposed to be in a federal pen, but seems to spend most of his time in the Bottom. The governor and grandma play their Mah Jong for days at a time. They bet a mountain of cash money, there must be four or five million in hundred dollar bills on the table at any given moment when those two are playing. You should see those two...the crafty Cajun versus the ancient Chinese. A clash of the craftiest of civilizations, played out under the live oaks and spanish moss. Grandma hung that wok up nearby, every so often she claps her hands, and a little Chinese boy runs out and bangs the wok...it sounds like a gong, and echoes through the woods in the bottom. That's how you know she's winning.

Its nice, 'cause the governor talks all he wants, and grandma never says a word..., they just play the tiles for hours and days and trade piles of money back and forth. I don't know who's doing the governor's time for him in the pen, but here in the swamp, he ain't a bad neighbor. He's tolerant. I notice, though, that grandma keeps a sharp eye on that Cajun while they play.
For more about the Mississippi Chinese see this first hand account ; a good book on the subject is The Mississippi Chinese, by James Loewen, available from Waveland Press, Waveland, Mississippi. Here is another book, Lotus Among the Magnolias, published by University Press of Mississippi. This is an excellent account of the Chinese Mississippians from from the Mississippi Historical Society. Be sure and read this, it has a source list at the end. If you haven't been to the Mississippi Delta, you might be suprised upon entering a little country store to see that the proprietors are Chinese (NY Times article). We used to trade at a Chinese grocery in Marks, Mississippi, which had a take out window in the back. This is a nice article about the Pang family in Marks. It is good to have Mississippi Chinese around, if only by keeping an eye on the gov...