"We are a generation raised by Qiaopi," says Xie Longbo, 62, reflecting on the hundreds of overseas letters and remittance vouchers that chronicle his family's century-long history. The recent popularity of the film "A Love Letter to Grandma" has brought these stories of the Nanyang (Southeast Asian) Chinese diaspora, preserved in Qiaopi, back into the spotlight.
In 1964, Xie Longbo was born in Jieyang, Guangdong. His grandfather, Xie Nanqing, who was working in Singapore, promptly sent a Qiaopi expressing his joy at the news of a new grandson. These remittances arrived monthly without fail, carrying not only money but also his grandfather's constant concern: "Is the grandson clever?" "How is this winter's harvest?" "Was your father able to send gifts for your grandmother's birthday?"
Xie Longbo, the second of four brothers, vividly recalls his childhood excitement when the Qiaopi deliveryman arrived. "When I was five or six, I was helping sun dry rice in the village square. From afar, I saw the courier coming. I was so thrilled, I ran to tell my mother, 'Grandpa is here!'"
From his great-grandfather Xie Fengji onward, thirteen members across three generations of the Xie family ventured to Southeast Asia to seek their fortune. The hundreds of Qiaopi they sent back serve as both family letters and financial records, documenting a century of the family's history. In 2017, Xie Longbo accompanied his father, Xie Zhaobi, to donate 368 family Qiaopi and other artifacts to the Shantou Qiaopi Museum.
"Although the words in our family's Qiaopi may not be as heart-wrenching as those in the movie, the sentiment between the lines is the same: 'Across vast oceans, you are in my heart,'" Xie Longbo remarked.
The family's story begins with a change of surname. The ancestor, Lao Fang Gong, originally surnamed Fang, moved to the Xie family in Jieyang as a child with his remarried mother and adopted the Xie surname. The family's prosperity began generations later. For three generations before Xie Longbo's great-grandfather, the family ran a successful cotton yarn business, trading primarily within China, and amassed significant wealth, even purchasing official titles during the Qing Dynasty.
However, by the late 19th and early 20th centuries, social turmoil and warfare led to the family's decline. Facing destitution, Xie Fengji, born in 1880, made the difficult decision to seek opportunities in Southeast Asia in 1905, leaving behind his wife, Chi Shunrong, and their young children. He would not be heard from for over a decade.
Chi Shunrong, a woman from a wealthy family with bound feet, was left to shoulder the family's burdens alone in extreme poverty. Unable to write, she devised a unique method to contact her husband. Using popular folk songbooks, she cut out individual characters with scissors and pasted them together to form letters, which were eventually delivered to Xie Fengji. This "songbook letter" convinced him that his wife was still waiting, prompting his return home.
After a brief reunion, poverty forced Xie Fengji to return to Singapore. This time, he established himself, starting a small street stall that gradually grew. He soon sent his first "safe arrival" Qiaopi back home. His son, Xie Nanqing (Xie Longbo's grandfather), later joined him in Singapore in 1935, marking the second generation's migration.
From then on, Qiaopi arrived monthly. This lifeline was crucial during the Japanese occupation (1939-1945), when remittances were banned and later manipulated. The family faced starvation during the 1943 famine in Chaoshan. At their most desperate moment, as they were preparing to sell Xie Longbo's father, Xie Zhaobi, to buy food, a Qiaopi arrived just in time, saving him from that fate.
Most of the surviving Qiaopi in the family date from after 1951, sent by Xie Nanqing. He managed a dried goods and seafood shop at Singapore's Clarke Quay. Due to strict foreign exchange controls, he could only send HK$75 per transaction. To better support the family, he cleverly split this amount, sending two remittances per month.
Xie Longbo recalls the goods that accompanied the money: Swiss Tissot watches, British Raleigh bicycles, sewing machines, wool sweaters, and foods like chocolate and condensed milk, which were the envy of the village. His parents were known for their generosity, often sharing these goods with neighbors.
In the 1960s, during a period of material shortages, his grandfather personally escorted 1,000 pounds of German-made fertilizer back to his hometown, donating 800 pounds to the local production team.
The Qiaopi contained more than money. The letters inquired about family health, children's studies, and harvests, offering life advice and embodying the family values. A core family rule persisted for a century: no matter how successful members were abroad, someone must always remain in the ancestral home to uphold traditions and conduct ancestor worship.
Xie Zhaobi (Xie Longbo's father) stayed behind. With support from overseas remittances, he married, continued his education, and later took on community leadership roles, including building a local theater. He also served as the chairman of the Overseas Chinese Association in his commune.
In 1976, a letter arrived informing the family that Xie Nanqing's shop had been demolished due to urban redevelopment in Singapore. His regular remittances would cease, replaced by fixed sums sent only four times a year for essential grain purchases. The brothers had to find ways to cover their own school fees, often helping with chores and farm work, even collecting manure for fertilizer, much like their grandfather had done as a child.
Retired and yearning to return to his roots, Xie Nanqing finally came back to his hometown in 1982 at the age of 77. Xie Longbo attributes his and his elder brother's later successes to the values instilled by this family history. "We often say we are a generation raised by Qiaopi," he notes.
His aunt, Xie Yingdiao, who moved to Singapore at age five, was encouraged by her father to attend a Chinese-language school to maintain her connection to her homeland. A Qiaopi she wrote at age eight, featured at the end of "A Love Letter to Grandma," shows her sending her scholarship money as a New Year gift to her grandmother in Chaoshan, exemplifying this cultural transmission.
"In the end," Xie Longbo concludes, "our family's century-old story is just one among countless Qiaopi narratives. Behind each story is a woman like my great-grandmother who waited a lifetime, a man like my great-grandfather who wandered a lifetime, and a sojourner like my grandfather who sent letters every month, perpetually longing for home. In the simplest way, they tell a story about family, homeland, love, and roots."
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