DUMPLINGS AND COINS

This project is based on a true story and serves as a monument to the memory.

It has been three years since I last visited Mogulia, and my connection to my old hometown is slowly fading away, just like the memory of three lucky coins.

Although I cannot recall the details of the coins, I still remember the taste of metal mixing with the dumpling. It was Lunar New Year's eve, and as part of our family tradition, we had dumplings that night. The elders would hide coins inside the dumplings, and whoever found one would be considered lucky and blessed with good fortune in the future.

As I sat at the table, I watched as plates of handmade dumplings of various flavors were served. The jade-looking dumplings were placed on white plates arranged on a dark wooden table, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. I was hesitant to eat, worried that I might swallow the coin. The elders didn't tell me what swallowing the coin would indicate.
At first, I ate slowly and carefully, but nothing happened. When I let my guard down, a metal object almost chipped my tooth. The solid texture of the metal contrasted with the soft, smooth meat filling, giving the dumpling a unique and amazing taste. I became so focused on the coin's flavor that the world around me quieted, and I could start a conversation with the coin. To my delight, I found three coins that evening and stored them carefully.

When I returned to Hangzhou, I purchased a coin pouch made by Granite Tactical to hold those three lucky coins. This way, I could take the lucky coins with me every day. One day, I discovered that the pouch was the perfect size to hold condoms, so I put three condoms in it alongside the three lucky coins. Unfortunately, the pouch was lost the next day.

As each year passes, the taste and appearance of the coins become more elusive, much like the memory of my hometown. On the one hand, I feel regretful for not being able to hold onto the memory since I don't have any photos. On the other hand, I feel fortunate to cherish the warm memory in a pure and abstract way, not disturbed by technology. Staying in that memory might be the best way to show respect for it.