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  • 《景觀設(shè)計(jì)學(xué)》2020年第2期

    作 者：
    徐夢(mèng)一（XU Mengyi），沈瑤（SHEN Yao），廖堉琿（LIAO Yuhui）等
    類 別：
    景觀
    出 版 社：
    高等教育出版社有限公司
    出版時(shí)間：
    2020年4月

俞孔堅(jiān)?城市兒童需要怎樣的樂園？——《景觀設(shè)計(jì)學(xué)》2020年第2期“主編寄語”

What Kind of Play Space do Children Need in the City?, By Yu Kongjian 


相較于當(dāng)今城市里的兒童，似乎有很多理由可以說我的童年是“不幸?！钡模簺]有專門的兒童游樂場(chǎng)，沒有幼兒園里干凈整潔的閱覽室和琳瑯滿目的讀物，沒有樂高，沒有形狀各異、機(jī)關(guān)精巧的機(jī)器人玩具，也沒有可供打滾攀爬的沙坑與網(wǎng)架，以及顏色鮮艷的滑梯；上學(xué)沒有父母開車接送，校門口也沒有守衛(wèi)斑馬線的警察叔叔……但同時(shí)，也有同樣多的理由讓我感到自己的童年是最幸福的。


在我的童年世界里，樂園沒有邊界，也沒有圍欄，它們便是溪灘、樹林、田野、菜園，還有迷宮一樣的巷弄；我甚至經(jīng)常翻過鄰家菜園的圍墻，躲藏在黃瓜架的后面，讓玩捉迷藏的小伙伴好半天都找不到。更有意思的是，只要你循著彎彎窄窄的田埂，在水渠盡頭的小疊瀑下，一定會(huì)看到成群的鯽魚（Carassius auratus）在水花中嬉戲，只需用簸箕或菜籃子當(dāng)漁具，便可滿載而歸；田頭的土丘上常常會(huì)有田鼠洞，洞口藏在草叢中，我和伙伴們往洞里灌水，直到田鼠從另外一個(gè)出口逃出，正好鉆進(jìn)我們布設(shè)的口袋；更大的“獵物”是在白沙溪與婺江交匯處的鯉魚（Cyprinus carpio），那正是唐代詩人戴叔倫駐足吟唱《蘭溪棹歌》的地方：“蘭溪三日桃花雨，半夜鯉魚來上灘。”不同的是，春雨過后，鯉魚在白天也會(huì)上灘，它們先是像飛箭一樣，在水草中逆流穿梭，然后迅速消失在百步之外的深潭里，你必須在此之前將其擒住。一群小孩當(dāng)然很少有成功的，但在溪灘上捕魚確實(shí)有無限的樂趣，至今還常常在我的夢(mèng)境中重現(xiàn)。


在五、六歲時(shí)，我負(fù)責(zé)照看一對(duì)兔子和一只山羊，它們都是我心愛的伙伴，是母親帶著我到五里之外的農(nóng)家買來的，并幻想通過“雞生蛋、蛋生雞”來補(bǔ)貼家用。兔子必須雌雄配對(duì)，因此我也學(xué)會(huì)了如何鑒別幼兔的性別—那是很難的事。每天放學(xué)之后，我都要采一籃筐青草喂兔子，沾滿水的青草是不能喂的，也不要采水蓼（Polygonum hydropiper）之類的植物，那都會(huì)給兔子帶來麻煩。后來，兔子長(zhǎng)大要下崽了，在家中院子里的泥土地上打了個(gè)地洞做窩，那是它們的天性——所以，如果像城里的兒童那樣把兔子養(yǎng)在籠子里或者水泥地上，兔子一定很難受，無論將窩布置得如何精巧，對(duì)它們來說都是“監(jiān)獄”——很快，它們生出了一窩小兔，拿到集市上去賣，可以換來家里的油鹽錢。我的小山羊沒有挑選得很好，長(zhǎng)得又慢又不豐產(chǎn)，三年了只生出一只小羊羔，爸爸就決定把它連小羊羔一起賣掉了，我很是傷心。盡管如此，每天傍晚放羊的經(jīng)歷卻帶給了我無窮的樂趣，它總是帶著我穿越高高低低的田埂，體驗(yàn)沉浸于自然的快樂：或走入布滿荊棘的荒冢高地，探尋神秘的境地；或潛入高坡下的深澗，呼吸清涼的空氣；或撥開濃密的柳林，在如氈的綠茵上體會(huì)豁然開朗的驚喜。


雖然從沒有買過玩具，但我的玩具也有不少，比如到村前水塘邊挖一塊黃泥，把它捏成坦克的車身和輪子，然后在太陽下曝曬，再把曬干的零件組裝起來，操縱它在石板橋上隆隆開動(dòng)；或用黃土捏出沖鋒的士兵，再將水菖蒲（Acorus calamus）的葉子做成劍戟。挑選一個(gè)理想的樹枝做彈弓并不容易，烏桕（Sapium sebiferum）的丫杈是最好的，柳樹（Salix spp.）的枝條卻不行。用溪灘上的大葉蘆竹（Arundo donax）可以做笛子，但最好是用鄰家老宅基上長(zhǎng)出來的剛竹（Phyllostachys viridis），吹起來聲音更加清亮。


早春天，盼著棕櫚（Trachycarpus fortunei）花穗從厚厚的葉片包裹中擠出，那是玩打仗游戲最好的彈藥，掰下那粟米一樣的花粒裝進(jìn)口袋，鼓鼓囊囊的，有種被武裝起來的威武感，隨時(shí)準(zhǔn)備與同伴“戰(zhàn)斗”；再用花序的苞衣做成帆船，放到水渠中順流而下。秋天可以做玩具的東西就更多了，我會(huì)跟在大人們身后，等他們剝?nèi)テr麻（Boehmeria nivea）的纖維，再撿拾白花花的麻桿，用來搭建“房子”；我還會(huì)爬上無患子（Sapindus mukorossi）樹，摘下金燦燦的果實(shí)，把皮剝下來交給姐姐們拿去當(dāng)肥皂，我則只收藏其中的黑色種子，日積月累，收集了好幾罐，偶爾分給同伴們，還因此在他們當(dāng)中獲得了相當(dāng)高的地位。


沿著田埂路去上學(xué)，從不用擔(dān)心被汽車撞上，也從不需要父母陪送。一路上總伴著潺潺的水流聲、不時(shí)從腳上跳過的青蛙躍入水渠的噗通聲，還有灌木中驚起的鳥鳴。鄰村的孩子則從另外一條小徑跳躍著奔向?qū)W校，身影遠(yuǎn)遠(yuǎn)地閃動(dòng)在齊腰高莊稼的綠濤之上……


反觀如今城市中的兒童，車水馬龍的街道將他們圍困于社區(qū)之中，高度硬質(zhì)化的水系更是潛在的死亡陷阱，電子游戲給他們營造了人工的虛擬世界，就連樂園里所謂的“自然”植被也只是光鮮的園藝化品種和整形化的裝飾，想找一只天然螢火蟲都成了一種奢侈……我不能說這樣的環(huán)境沒有為兒童帶來真正的幸福和歡樂，無益于智力啟迪或心靈培育；但我可以肯定的是，他們的夢(mèng)中絕不會(huì)有鯉魚上灘的驚喜，也不會(huì)有從棕櫚樹上掰下花序的滿足，更難以明白緣何僅僅兩米高差的土地就可以造就一個(gè)與周遭環(huán)境迥異的清涼世界。


Compared to children in the city today, my childhood might seem lacking. There was no special playground, no reading room with new pictured books, no Legos, no sophisticated robot toys of different shapes, no sandpits or colorful slides. There were no parents driving to school to pick up children and no crossing guards at the school gate. At the same time, there were also many reasons that my childhood was a happy one.


When I was a child, the play space had no fences. Creeks, woods, fields, vegetable gardens, and maze-like alleys were all playgrounds. When playing hide-and-seek, I often climbed over walls to hide behind cucumber trellises in my neighbor’s vegetable garden. What was more interesting, if one followed the winding and narrow field banks, groups of crucian carps (Carassius auratus) could be found playing under the cascade at the end of irrigation canals; they could be caught easily just with winnowing fans or bamboo baskets. There were many carves of voles in crop fields, and I often caught voles for fun by pouring water into the holes. One of the best games was catching carp (Cyprinus carpio) at the intersection of the Baisha Stream and the Wujiang River, where Dai Shulun, a poet from the Tang Dynasty, wrote his famous poetry named A Fishman’s Song of Lanxi River, describing the carps that gathered around and jumped onto the river shoal in midnights after spring rains. To my knowledge, carps also appeared during daytime, passing so swiftly through aquatic plants; it was almost impossible to catch them but always joyful to have a try. Such a great fun still remains refresh in my memory.


When I was five or six, my mother bought me a pair of rabbits and a goat from a farmhouse several kilometers away. I was responsible for looking after them and they became my beloved companions. Young rabbits are always matched in pairs, so I learned to identify their sex, which is not an easy task; I also knew that plants like water pepper (Polygonum hydropiper) or wet grasses cannot be fed with rabbits; when the rabbits grew up and prepared to breed, they would make a nest from grass and mud — living in a cage as a children’s pet nowadays is harm to their habit. Then the rabbit babies were sold on market to help with family expenses. My goat was not selected well. It grew up slowly and gave birth to only one lamb after three years. Later they were both sold, which made me very sad. Nonetheless, the experience of raising the goat and herding it every day after school brought lots of fun. It was a joy to be immersed in nature as I walked with the goat: I explored the undulating fields, the mysterious lands, the mountain creeks with cool air, and the open grasslands behind the willow groves.


Although I never bought toys, I had lots of things to play. The mud dug out of the pond could be made into a shape of tank and then left it to dry in the sun. The dried tank became a fantastic toy along with mud “soldiers” with calamus (Acorus calamus) “swords.” Other times I would make slingshots from branches of Chinese tallow tree (Sapium sebiferum), rather than willow trees (Salix spp.). For a flute, bamboo reeds (Arundo donax), especially rigid bamboo (Phyllostachys viridis), are the best for a clear and melodious sound. 


In the early spring, the corn-like spikes of palms (Trachycarpus fortunei) were always the best “ammunition” for battle games, which could be collected in pockets, making me feel armed, mighty, and ready to “fight” at any time. Their spathes could float in the canal as “ships.” In the autumn, there were more materials to make toys. I often followed the adults, waiting for them to strip the fiber of ramies (Boehmeria nivea), then picking up the white stalks to build “houses.” I would also climb chinaberry trees (Sapindus mukorossi) to harvest the golden fruits, saving their skins as soaps and collecting the small black seeds for trading with friends, which brought me high status among them.


On the way to school along the edges of fields, I never worried about being hit by a car or needed protection of my parents. The sound of gurgling creeks, splashing frogs, and chirping birds kept me company. Kids from neighboring villages also ran to school, jumping up and down through the fields, where the breezing green crops seemed to echo their cheers.


Today, children in the city are besieged by busy streets and harden water systems full of latent danger, and they often have to stay close to home. Video games create an artificial world for children, artificial play places increase, and the so-called “natural” landscapes in urban parks are nothing but neatly trimmed horticultural plants — now finding a firefly becomes a luxury. I do not want to suggest that such an environment has not engendered childlike joy or enlightenment; but I am afraid that children in the city could hardly imagine a world with jumping carps, inflorescences of palm trees, and the dramatic micro-climate changes within the undulating landform.


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