Only a Decade

—“The Ring of a Decade”, Shanghai, 2019.12 | 《圈里圈外》摄于上海

 

“You are too short to teach.”

 

—“The View in a Classroom”, Shanghai, 2019.10 | 《教室一隅》摄于上海

 

A tall interviewer called me off the stage when I had just given my name. He gestured at me as if he was giving the death penalty. Teaching was the only iron rice bowl that would fit my circumstances. Now what was I supposed to do?

 

—“Teaching Kids Chess”, Shanghai, 2019.11 | 《教小朋友国际象棋》樊老师摄于上海

 

Days before the 2009 Spring Festival, I desperately paid an agent who guaranteed me a teaching job. On Chinese New Year’s Eve, I took a smelly night train from Hainan to Guangzhou. It was a nightmare. I slept standing against a strange shoulder in the crowd without any awareness. Everyone was leaning against each other, except those who could afford a seat.

 

—“Teaching Kids Chess”, Shanghai, 2019.11 | 《教小朋友国际象棋》樊老师摄于上海

 

The nightmare worsened when I arrived at a suburban dormitory provided by the agency. There were twelve bunk beds in a room and twelve people shared the same shower with a single toilet. Two days later, the toilet blocked. The shitty water ran all over the place. It smelled really good. No plumber would come till after the Spring Festival. Thus the daily instant noodles had no smell.

 

—“Teaching Kids Chess”, Shanghai, 2019.11 | 《教小朋友国际象棋》朱老师摄于上海

 

This pushed me to get a job sooner. But they all rejected me for the same reason – my small size and my weak appearance. Not until one month later did I find a school that was calling for half-pay volunteers. I took it immediately.

 

—“Watching Sunset”, Shantou, 2009.12 | 《看日落》摄于汕头民工子弟学校

 

The school was the Migrant Workers’ Children School in Shantou City. It looked like a small factory, but it had a nice cozy feel. There were seven classrooms for seven grades of students. All desks and chairs were blue plastic. All teachers were either retired or fresh graduates. At 5pm every day, we would each carry a bucket of hot water to the toilet and together stand on the squat for a quick shower. Of course, the sexes were separate.

 

—“Observing Series I”, Shantou, 2009.12 | 《观察系列一》摄于汕头民工子弟学校

 

During the first week, two school buses took us to the three main areas where most of the workers lived. We gave them handouts like a communist would hold a farmer’s hands in the Mao era. There was a fascination in that, on the bus, I was reading Meditations by Marcus Aurelius and, off the bus, I was experiencing a meditative moment of walking into the irregularly shabby tents that were home to them. Especially the moment when a woman bent over the waste digging gold with her face covered by flies.

 

—“Observing Series II”, Shantou, 2009.12 | 《观察系列二》摄于汕头民工子弟学校

 

This sight motivated me to teach more responsibly and to seek more diversities in life. I noticed that the parents smiled often and the children were happy. I found my students’ neat resonant reading voices tranquilly peaceful. I was totally drawn by these books in Chinese: The Interpretation of Dreams and The Second Sex. Meantime I focused my weekends on writing my Chinese novel – An Oasis in Wasteland.

 

—“Observing Series III”, Shantou, 2009.12 | 《观察系列三》摄于汕头民工子弟学校

 

Life then was fulfilled with originality and simplicity. I had such complete satisfaction that I felt no ending was needed by my Chinese novel. It was a perfect year of teaching. The perfection nurtured me as an oasis of spirituality. I was inspired to experience more.

 

—“Observing Series IV”, Shantou, 2009.12 | 《观察系列四》摄于汕头民工子弟学校

 

Therefore I moved to Shenzhen, working in sales till I quit to write two English novels within four years. I then came to Shanghai out of curiosity and tried to sell insurance. I stumbled into the art world.

 

—“To Be Remembered”, Shantou, 2009.12 | 《学生留念》摄于汕头民工子弟学校

 

However, my family claimed that I was absolutely wrong. They repeated it during my August family trip morning, noon and night. Their biting criticisms almost crushed me. I had to compromise with the idea of returning to education. Actually it felt more like the sand in my hourglass was running out and it was time to start over.

 

—“To Be Remembered”, Shantou, 2009.12 | 《学生留念》摄于汕头民工子弟学校

 

Now I’m officially working for New Stage English and teaching international chess at different international schools. Because of this job, I have seen remote parts of Shanghai that I would never have visited.

 

—“I Love China”, Shanghai, 2019.12.25 | 《我爱中国》摄于上海青浦世外国际幼儿园

 

All this happened from 2009 to 2019. It is only a decade. Only a circle. How would you like to begin a new life, if you happen to be at the starting line?

 

 

Last article 上一篇: Our Pressures | 我们的压力

About Heather Cai:

Heather is the daughter of a subsistence rice farmer from Fujian Province, China. She tells stories from her experience as one of the poorest. She writes her dream to share with the world, a very personal place. She has now written two English literary novels and is looking to being published in the UK. Her passion is a splendid cocktail or milkshake of word, image, music and art. She likes collecting books, DVDs, papers, stones, shells and leaves. She desires for all forms of natural beauty. She is currently teaching kids chess in Shanghai.

Copyright © 2018-2019 Heather Cai. All Rights Reserved. 所有版权归作者蔡太莲所有！

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Bumps | 颠簸

—Frightened, 2015.5.12 | 《害怕》

 

“Little shit, useless! Little shit, useless!”

My father would shout this when he beat me with a dustpan – my earliest memory. He hated me being born as a dwarf, particularly a female one. He didn’t stop beating me until one day he almost beat my mother to death.

 

—Patriarchy, 2015.5.20 | 《父权社会》

 

Influenced by such violence in a patriarchal family, where all parents favored a boy over a girl, my brother also liked bullying me. He learned to beat me till one day he was scared when he cut my forearm deep with a scar.

 

—Scar, 2015.7.9 | 《伤痕》

—The Scar, 2019.10.19 | 《那道疤痕》

 

Years of my mother staying unwell in bed gave me more chance to do farm work, housework and take care of two young sisters. And that somehow made me useful in my father’s eye.

 

—Family, 2015.5.13 | 《家庭》

 

When mother got better, I started school at ten. Things were fine till Grade Five when my Chinese teacher doubted my writing, “Have you copied this from an Essay Book?” I said no. He then left a striking red mark: Whether or not you have cribbed your article off a book, you know the best! 

 

—Vulnerability, 2015.5.12 | 《脆弱》

—My private Shenzhen library built from a dormitory window that liked receiving wind and rain uninvited, 2013.9 | 《我的深圳私人藏书屋》

 

The irony was that I didn’t even have a book. To prove myself, I insisted on joining a writing competition, which no one believed I should. In the end I won First Prize in the whole district. I thought that would make people look at me differently, but it didn’t. Their silence was confusing.

 

—Confusion, 2015.4.17 | 《困惑》

 

Nonetheless, I kept studying hard and being a good student. This didn’t change until a kidney stone that almost needed surgery in high school made me start wondering: What was the point of being good? What had good writing done for me? Why should I meet an expectation that was not mine? Why not just listen to myself?

 

—Be Wild, 2015.3.18 | 《自然野》

 

Therefore I half listened to my father about becoming a teacher. But behind his back I chose Hainan Island for my college life. This was strongly against his wishes because it was too far away. For days, he didn’t sleep or eat much. At last, he gave me a thick roll of thirty-eight hundred cash and told me with red wet eyes, “This is all I have. Don’t come home until you can afford it.” 

 

—Father, 2015.4.25 | 《父亲》

 

I assured him, “Don’t worry. The school offers a five-thousand loan every year.” 

But I could never tell him that the loan was a lie. How could I?

 

—My grandfather’s Medal Awarded From the Korea War, 1954 | 《爷爷的抗美援朝纪念章》

 

Owing half my tuition fees, I had to constantly take different part-time jobs. Yet my salary was never enough to pay off my debt. When the time came to register for the second year, the administrator refused me unless I paid off everything. Accordingly I showed him these two things: “Look, this is my grandfather’s medal awarded from the Korea War and his Military Certificate authorized by the renowned General Chen Yi. It clearly says, ‘His family get preferential treatment.’”

 

—My grandfather’s Military Certificate, 1951 | 《爷爷的革命军人证明书：司令员 陈毅》

 

“Is he still alive?” He sneered.

“No… please!” I suddenly knelt down. “My grandfather had fought many wars and sacrificed a lot. He had become crippled and deaf, and almost been killed on the battlefield. His greatest wish was to see me graduate from college.”

“Your grandpa is dead. What’s the use of all this?”

 

—Sob, 2015.7.7 | 《哭诉》

 

I got up slowly, pulling myself together. I began to make phone calls and borrow money. This made me sick. When I asked for a raise after three years of working for my first company, the boss killed me as a chicken to scare the monkey. And later in the second company, I found my basic salary had been underpaid for six months. What the hell made people do that to me?

 

—Mankind, 2015.5.6 | 《人》

 

Unhesitatingly I quit my full-time job to chase my writing dream. Had I not been framed by a world where the colors are drawn by child abuse, sexist bullies, social suspicions and human unkindness, would I struggle even now to tell the bumps of my life stories?

 

—A Framed Life, 2015.7.11 | 《一个被设限的生命》

 

I’m not going to ask ‘Why me?’. Because it is not just me. It is a bunch of mes. But what bumps do you have and what impacts do they have on you?

 

—Hope, 2015.7.5 | 《希望》

 

Note: This is something that I can never feel comfortable to talk to anyone, but Toastmasters gave me courage and strength to make it a speech. You can read the original post here.

 

—Shanghai Leadership TMC Still Drives Me Crazy, 2019.10.19 | 《上海头马依旧让我痴狂》

 

Related article：Transformations

Last article 上一篇: LEADERSHIP’S GOT TALENT | LGT

 

About Heather Cai:

Heather is the daughter of a subsistence rice farmer from Fujian Province, China. She tells stories from her experience as one of the poorest. She writes her dream to share with the world, a very personal place. She has now written two English literary novels and is looking to being published in the UK. Her passion is a splendid cocktail or milkshake of word, image, music and art. She likes collecting books, DVDs, papers, stones, shells and leaves. She desires for all forms of natural beauty. She is currently living in Shanghai and serving as Sergeant-at-arms (SAA) for Shanghai Leadership Toastmasters Club.

Copyright © 2018-2019 Heather Cai. All Rights Reserved. 所有版权归作者所有！

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Writer’s Block

—Dancing in the Dark, 2015.7.10 | 《在黑暗中跳舞》

 

Imagine your head is empty and you are facing a blank wall. What conversations can you possibly have?

 

—Fashion, 2015.5.17 |《时尚》

 

In the first half year of 2015, my brain was erased. I couldn’t read or write. Nor could I communicate with anyone, including myself. The only word that kept scratching my skull was “curse”. You might ask, what curse? What happened?

 

—Torture, 2015.5.16 |《痛楚》

 

It was about my younger and only brother. When we were little, we already believed that the only hope to escape from poverty was to climb out of the mountains, go to a college and work in a city. And we did. He has everything that many Chinese people long to have – a stable career as an official Shenzhen teacher, a house, a car and a lovely child. But he has a drama-queen wife, or should I say, an ex-wife? Honestly I don’t know. They got divorced a year ago and now they seem to be together again. For what? I really don’t understand their love if there is love and their marriage if there is still one. Just like I never understood how she could storm into his class, slap his face in front of his students and argue with his headmaster, just for a Taobao password? Even when they just started a relationship? And how she could call the police one morning when he couldn’t drive her to work because he himself was running late? Don’t you think that is too ridiculous?

 

—Pray, 2015.5.1 |《祈祷》

 

Almost every goddamn time, when I heard or witnessed something, it was all like a chicken fighting against a dog with no peace. How could my brother tolerate such a ridiculous woman over and over? What exactly has he seen that is so good in her? Does he actually love her? Is love really a bitch?

 

—The Dream Police, 2015.5.3 |《理想的警察》

 

I asked him these questions during Spring Festival of 2015 after she had smashed glasses all over the place. But he kept silent. His silence made me feel that his marriage was a curse. And the curse almost crushed me. I became depressed.

 

—Man & Science, 2015.5.4 |《人与科学》

 

Worse, the following month of not being able to write a single word scared me. The fear urged me to make a move. On Feb 28^th, the same year, I traveled to Sri Lanka. Like magic, when I was using the toilet in the first hotel, a strange face popped out between my feet. I took a long look. The face became more and more vivid. I couldn’t help sketching it, and made it the very first drawing of my life: The Left Eye.

 

—The Left Eye – my very first drawing, 2015.2.28 | 平生第一幅速写：《左眼》

 

 

From then on, I started seeing faces everywhere and kept sketching them for months. Here are some of them.

 

—Queue In China, 2015.5.8 |《在中国排队》

 

At this point, I still couldn’t read or write. But luckily I could speak to nature when traveling and talk to some strangers on the road. They mostly encouraged me by sharing their stories or listening to mine. And, one of them actually pointed out that I was experiencing so-called Writer’s Block.

 

—Writer’s Block, 2015.4.29 |《创作灵感障碍》

 

I started searching it online. The more information I gathered, the less fear I had. Gradually, the wall of my mind cracked. I came to understand the reason why I had this writer’s block was not only because I had depression, but also because I was ignorant of the fear. As soon as I knew what was happening to me, in July, I could read and write again. This assured me: depression is temporary, writer’s block is temporary.

 

—Half Man Half Beast, 2015.5.9 |《半人半兽》

 

But do you find it easier to talk to someone you don’t know at all than to someone you know very well? Why? Why does it feel easier to chat in a shared taxi when you are traveling together but not looking each other? Why is it more difficult to have a conversation with yourself than with strangers? Are you afraid of a new place in a distant land or more afraid of the unknown possibilities in your imagination?

 

About Heather Cai:

 

Heather is the daughter of a subsistence rice farmer from Fujian Province, China. She tells stories from her experience as one of the poorest. She writes her dream to share with the world, a very personal place. She has now written two English literary novels and is looking to being published in the UK. Her passion is a splendid cocktail or milkshake of word, image, music and art. She likes collecting books, DVDs, papers, stones, shells and leaves. She desires for all forms of natural beauty. She is currently living in Shanghai and serving as Sergeant-at-arms (SAA) for Shanghai Leadership Toastmasters Club.

Copyright © 2018-2019 Heather Cai. All Rights Reserved. 所有版权归作者所有！

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This Happened When Mike Reported a Traffic Accident to the Police

When I told the story of my car accident here, there were different voices. Needless to say, making a report to the police is the most favorable. But sometimes what you know about the legal system or the Chinese society is not the same as you would have believed. And this happened to my friend Mike:

 

— Xi’an, Shanxi, 2013.7 | 陕西西安

 

Hello. I’m Mike, an educator and a manager of educators in China for the past 6+ years. It’s been a rewarding experience, one that has allowed me to learn much about Chinese culture, particularly the national language Mandarin. Chi kui is a Mandarin phrase that means “to eat a loss.” And Chi ya ba kui, literally means “to eat a mute person’s loss,” or to suffer losses or grievances in silence. I found myself with a new appreciation for this phrase recently, when as a cyclist I was involved in a traffic accident in which the other party ran a red light and collided with me, giving me a concussion and a shoulder injury—and I wound up having to pay him. If this sounds unbelievable or insane to you, then you can imagine how I feel.

 

—Credit: Google | 图片来自：谷歌

 

For the past 3.5 years, I have been living and working in Kunshan, a city just outside of Shanghai, China. Last October, I rode a shared bike to work as usual. When I approached a green light at an intersection, I saw several jaywalkers crossing from the left side of the road to the right side of the road. Just as I was about to pass safely in front of them, one of the jaywalkers broke into a run, charging into my left side. His head slammed into my left shoulder and knocked me over, hard. My right shoulder slammed into the pavement hardest. My right hip also hit hard, and my head (despite not hitting the ground) was jolted badly enough to leave me with a mild concussion. Amidst shock and adrenaline, I didn’t take note of any pain or injury. The person who tackled me, an older fellow, was sitting on the pavement looking bewildered. In frustration, I yelled at him for his carelessness before getting back on my bike.

 

— Shenzhen, Guangdong, 2016 | 广东深圳

 

Upon arriving, I mentioned the situation to coworkers. My bosses advised me that I must report the accident. We went to the police station. The older fellow had already made a report and had gone to the hospital for a thorough examination. It was later determined that he had broken a bone in his thumb, and this broken bone would require surgery to repair.

 

— Xi’an, Shanxi, 2013.7 | 陕西西安

 

Fortunately, the police were able to obtain video footage of the accident from traffic cameras. This footage confirmed that the accident occurred exactly as I remembered—he was jaywalking, he unexpectedly started running (to catch a bus), and he slammed into me. Unfortunately for me, none of this matters—the legal system favors him. He is older, I am younger. He is a pedestrian, I had a vehicle (even if only a bicycle). His injuries required expensive medical care, mine required time and rest. He is uninsured and has no income, I am apparently rich (or at least that’s the perception of foreigners). His financial damages included the cost of his surgery, his other medical costs, estimated future medical costs, and wages lost from his part-time job. The portion of these damages which I ultimately had to pay amounted to 23,000 RMB, roughly $3300 USD.

 

— Xi’an, Shanxi, 2013.7 | 陕西西安

 

The whole episode felt like a descent into madness. My side of the story mostly fell on deaf ears. I was eventually advised to stop telling it. What if I just stayed quiet, humble, and contrite (although there was nothing to be contrite about)?

 

— Shenzhen, Guangdong, 2016 | 广东深圳

 

Now that it’s over, I am sharing my story to boost awareness among expats. In any case, if some good comes out of this, one way or another, I’ll feel better about the whole situation. Perhaps I’ll ultimately have to chi kui, to eat the loss. I can live with that. But I don’t want to chi ya ba kui, to suffer the loss in silence. Nor should anyone. If you agree, please share.

 

—Credit: Google | 图片来自：谷歌

— Xi’an, Shanxi, 2013.7 | 陕西西安

 

Mike’s story made me wonder, why do the innocent suffer?

— Shenzhen, Guangdong, 2016 | 广东深圳

 

About Heather Cai:

Heather is the daughter of a subsistence rice farmer from Fujian Province, China. She tells stories from her experience as one of the poorest. She writes her dream to share with the world, a very personal place. She has now written two English literary novels and is looking to being published in the UK. Her passion is a splendid cocktail or milkshake of word, image, music and art. She likes collecting books, DVDs, papers, stones, shells and leaves. She desires for all forms of natural beauty. She is currently living in Shanghai and serving as Sergeant-at-arms (SAA) for Shanghai Leadership Toastmasters Club.

 

Copyright © 2018-2019 Heather Cai. All Rights Reserved. 所有版权归作者所有！

 

Follow HeathersChamber for more original poems, essays, prose, drawings and pictures

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Reflections on a WeChat Moment

The Wechat Moment | Crow’s Solo Exhibition in Shanghai M50 Art Zone, 2019.4.22

 

Me & Crow | Photograph: Shan He, 2019.4.22

 

This speech, inspired by a WeChat Moment I posted recently. Here it is. What do you see? And what do you think of this Moment? Particularly this photo – me & Crow standing on the black feathers in front of his paintings that I like. Doesn’t it look normal to you? Yeah, pretty much. Right?

 

Exhibition Poster, courtesy ART OF CROW

 

But to my family, it is not normal at all. The instant my mum saw this post in the morning she sent me tons of voice messages. “Don’t take a picture with a guy that ‘big’.” “Don’t share in public any man who is not your boyfriend.” “Don’t let a foreigner take advantage of your body.” “Don’t smile like you are having an affair with him.”

 

Crow’s Solo Exhibition, 2019.4.22

 

Oh, isn’t my mum lovely? I adored her sense of humour. She is illiterate, she can only read pictures. If you were me hearing that, how would you react? If it was your mum telling you that, what would you say? Would you think it is absurd? Would you feel it is funny? 

I did.

 

Crow’s Solo Exhibition, 2019.4.22

 

But… but when my old sister called me in the evening and said the same thing, I was shocked. She is half illiterate, as she didn’t have a chance to finish primary school. Undoubtedly she cannot read any English. Imagine her mood when she was asking me these questions – “Why did you take a picture with a guy that old?” “How could you post such a Moment?” “Don’t you think it’s too ugly to be graceful?” “Isn’t it bad for you to find a good husband?” “Do you know the others might take him as your real boyfriend?”

 

What? Wait, wait, wait…

 

Crow’s Solo Exhibition, 2019.4.22

 

All of a sudden, I realized how much I’ve embarrassed my family and what they were worrying about was true. Probably having lived in a big city for a long time, I almost forgot what happened in a tiny village. Who would have thought the small thing in a remote corner can affect your current life in a busy center? Especially a surprising rumor that I didn’t give a damn about?

 

Crow’s Solo Exhibition, 2019.4.22

 

In December 2013, I returned to my home village with my English editor Mike. He wanted to see where I grew up and was keen on taking his children to visit some dying villages on the edge of China. Before they came in the summer of 2014, I took Mike to my birthplace – the first man ever. 

 

The smoking house, my home in Fujian Province, 2014.8

Mike, Kat, Chris & Craig in my home village, Fujian, 2014.8

 

If later no one had spread the rumor that Mike was my boyfriend, with my ignorance and innocence, I could have never understood the fact that when a girl brings a man back to the village, the man must be her husband-to-be. And if my family didn’t remind me of such a fact behind the rumor, I probably wouldn’t be talking about this shit right now. It feels like a shame that was filmed for someone from an alien planet yet my family have been bearing it for me in silence.

 

Details, courtesy ART OF CROW

 

Strangely, wherever I go, that part of my world with those who live under the sky as big as the mouth of a well, never stops haunting me at night.

 

Details, courtesy ART OF CROW

 

And the strangest thing is, now I seem to be consciously aware of not taking a picture with a guy who is not my boyfriend. Can you believe that? I can’t even believe myself. A WeChat Moment begins to miraculously influence a rebellious leftover woman. Is it the power of something almost skeptical or my love for my family? Frankly, I don’t know.

 

Photograph: courtesy Shan He, 2019.4.22

 

Do your family tell you what you should do and what you shouldn’t? Have they criticized anything about your lifestyle? Or are you free to do anything?

 

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 – Art of Crow –

Artistic credo: “You can also paint a song”

 

Crow is a  German painter, rock musician, and performance artist. His paintings and installations are as energetic and passionate as his rock songs, inspired by the natural elements earth, air, fire, and water, and by a wild and free spirit.As the founder, vocalist and songwriter of the Heavy Metal band Medusa`s Child (1999-present), Crow toured through Europe and Asia, and his artwork was exhibited in China, Japan, Switzerland, Finland, Germany, and the USA. Alternating between microphone and brush, Crow follows his artistic credo – “You can also paint a song.“

 

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现代人 The Modern People

—听老家村里唯一一位活了将近百岁的裹脚老奶奶“唠叨” （照片拍摄：Mike, 福建槽坑村，2014.8 | Fujian） A nearly 100-year-old and the only woman Yu with bound-feet in my home village.

 

—西方周游过世界的Mike 与东方从未离过村的裹脚老奶奶之间的对话。 （照片拍摄：Heather, 福建槽坑村，2014.8 | Fujian） A conversation between the western Mike, who has travelled all over the world, and the eastern Yu, who has never left the village.

 

—一双裹脚鞋，摄于美国作家Amanda的深圳公寓，2014 | Writer Amanda’s, Shenzhen

 

请问谁没有听过老一輩的人說，我們那個年代有多苦多苦，現在的人應該懂得知足？

 

—摄于福建寿宁，2014.8 | Shouning Town, Fujian Province

 

時代在突飞猛进，为什么还没有一项科技可以完全消除人类的烦恼呢？

 

—摄于广东深圳，2014.11 | Shenzhen, Guangdong

 

物欲持续横流，钢筋水泥下人心不乏孤独，请问现在的人都在焦虑什么呢？有人会忧国忧民吗？有人感到怀才不遇吗？有人买不到好房好车吗？有人找不到真爱吗？有人认为工作压力太大工作收入太少吗？有人害怕世界末日资源能源快要耗竭吗？有人怀疑社会不公平生活毫无乐趣吗？有人觉得自己太少受关注吗？有人叹息这人生没有目标没有成就感吗？

 

—摄于福建寿宁，2014.8 | Shouning Town, Fujian Province

 

既然人类如此焦虑，那我们跟上时代的步伐了吗？还是跟着时代的机器一个轮子一个齿子的滚着？那我们还算是现代人吗？

 

—摄于福建老家，2013.12 | My home village, Fujian Province

 

维基百科生物学上有提到，現代人類是在約20萬年前的東非大裂谷演化成形的。我很好奇，这20万年到底积淀了人类多少的智慧与烦恼呢？我也很好奇，这20万年过去了，现代人是不是比古代人更聪明呢？请问有谁能够认为自己是铁铮铮的现代人呢？有谁能够站出来称自己是现代社会主义的接班人呢？又有谁能够考虑人类的生存条件而当一名真正的现代人呢？

 

—摄于广东深圳荔枝公园，2014.6 | Litchi Park, Shenzhen

 

半年前，带着这些令人抓狂的问题，我写下了这一篇日记：
彼时的我在生命的长河正顺流醉入声势磅礴的瀑布之中。这纵然一跃是蜕变，也是解开一个千缠百绕的扭结。那扭结缠绕的松紧是人和环境的摩擦与交融。因为一次偶然的机缘，加入大都会后，更觉得环境是自己的血肉之躯，而人就是多巴胺。

 

—摄于福建老家房顶，2013.12 | The rooftop of my home dirt house, Fujian Province

 

在上海一个缘故也没有，却决然选择做保险，就是想要在不可能中创造一种可能！
好比如当初笃定自己一个人死了就死了，不可能会有“杂念”。但自从落地这个大魔都后，发现越是迷恋一座城市，越是向往一种新生活，对求生的欲望就越强，从而危机感便油然而生， 成为了可能。
正是如此，我开始领悟从不可能到可能只要一个想法或观念的转变，开始反思自己过去对保险的无视，开始追问为什么国人都不大爱投保，开始明白为什么国家近年重视保险教育了，也开始相信保险其实能解决社会很多问题。想想，要是人人都有了保障，这个社会不就更安定更和谐了吗？有了保障，还会焦头烂额可怜兮兮的搞轻松筹吗？有了保障，还会怕一个人病塌一个家吗？有了保障，还担心要是顶梁柱倒下了剩下家人该怎么办吗？有了保障，面对风险还会手足无措吗？

 

—摄于广东深圳荔枝公园，2014.6 | Litchi Park, Shenzhen

 

我很喜欢这份工作！它不仅充满爱与责任，让我学到很多东西，认识很多有趣的人，还能在极限中挑战和突破自己，做一些不喜欢做的事情却可以带来意外的惊喜。

 

—摄于福建老家，2013.12 | Inside my home dirt house in Caokeng Village, Fujian Province

 

假如参加活动是一艘帆船要启航了，那认识人就是乘风破浪。这是一次冒险的旅行。旅行的目的就是大胆地传播爱，传播福音，传播正能量。请记住，船长不是倭寇，也不是加勒比海盗，而是一个敬畏生命、连只蚂蚁都舍不得踩的小女人。她的名字叫蔡太莲！

 

—摄于福建老家，2013.12 | My home village, Fujian Province

 

很坦诚的说，历经一个蜕变的过程犹如在一个黑暗的瓶颈里奋力求生。此时此刻，我特别感谢并珍惜跟我见面的人！

 

—福建老家：最左边那栋土房，2013.12 | My home – the left house, Fujian Province

 

记得胡适先生有说过：“保险的意义只是今天做明天的准备；生时做死时的准备；父母做儿女的准备；儿女幼时做儿女长大的准备。今天预备明天，这是真稳健；生时预备死时，这是真豁达；父母预备儿女，这是真慈爱。能做到这三步的人，才能算作是现代人。”

 

—摄于广东深圳荔枝公园，2014.6 | Litchi Park, Shenzhen

 

敢问我们究竟有多少人堪称自己是“现代人”呢？

 

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Home of Glory

 

These are the things left by my grandfather. A Revolutionary Soldiers Certificate, a diary with the cover of Chairman Mao, a medal from the War to Resist US Aggression and Aid Korea.

Finally, last Saturday, my family moved into a new home we bought in 2014. For days I have been busy decorating the apartment.  One of the things was collecting some memorable photos to hang on the wall. Like this one,  the belongings of my grandfather who was the only one in our home village who returned from the war.

Born as farmers, my parents never knew how to protect or use them, nor could they read much. When I was little and my grandfather still alive, they were all put in a metal box without a lock under his bed. After his death, the box was abandoned in a dark corner under the stairs. So gradually, the Certificate was eaten by bugs and the diary torn up by someone little by little. When I was studying in primary school, the Certificate wasn’t broken, the diary was complete and I would read it time and again. For some reason, they mean a lot more to me than anyone in my family. So in December 2013, I brought them to Shenzhen and they are now safe with me.

The only photo of my grandfather, sitting on a rock outside our house.

My grandfather was half blind half deaf, with one leg disabled due to the bombs and bullets. He used to tell war stories, sing military songs, give us riddles and make us laugh. He was so strange as whatever the season he would wear the same uniforms  and bathe himself in the river from time to time. Where there was a shadow of him, there were kids laughing as he raised his voice like thunder and laughed like a storm.

The Revolutionary Soldiers Certificate – In April 1949, Comrade Zhongxin Cai became a soldier of PLA.

 

According to the Certificate, as the family of a soldier, we should have been given some favored treatment. But after the war, my grandfather returned home as he was told and had written in his diary – “A soldier should obey the orders, go home and make productions.” 

Yet, it seemed only a piece of paper buried in the darkness and my grandfather a forgotten soldier. Even when I had shown one copy to the related people in college, no one took it seriously or they just said coldly, “Out of time, useless”. Thus we still have no idea about the “favored treatment”. 

As our home village is dying and even the villagers stopped celebrating Dragon Boat Festival and other things two years ago, about my grandfather, seemingly only the glory of his life and some memories are left. 

PS:The commander was Chen Yi and the political commissar was Rao Shushi.

My Birthplace Stays Green Green

You know? Since ever China opened the door to the world, many of the poorest and the most remote Chinese villages began to die one after another. So has my home village.

This is the house which was built exactly the year I was born in 1986. It still looks new from the outside, doesn’t it? It was built up with rough mud and stones with black tiled roof. Outside the house, is a small shelter without a door. It’s the toilet made of two giant wooden buckets with only one short stepladder, and two pigsties. Between them, there is small space to store the pig shit and any other shit that could be used for fertilizer. Beside it in a small corner, there was a home for many lovely rabbits. But not now, not when I visited back in September 2014.

There are only my uncle and my auntie still living inside the house. All my side of the family moved out in 2008. Now all the wooden furniture has been eaten by bugs, all the metal farm tools rust in the damp, all the wooden floors are spread with rat shit and dead bodies of cockroaches, all the rooms are covered with a certain smell of dust, all the doors, windows, poles, beds and each corner have spider webs with different spiders building their homes. And because of frequant strong windy storms coming with big floods in summer, the mud walls gradually lean towards the right side. God knows when, the house will break and collapse to the ground, and if ever anybody would afford to build another one or just let the village completely die in silence.

No matter what season and no matter where, there are always many places with dark green, light green, grass green or pure green. But due to less and less people using the wood burning stove, the chimney with the purple smoke gradually becomes more and more attractive to me. Living for about 15 years in a house surrounded by green fields growing rice, green trees rising to the sky, green wild plants and flowers and green wild fruits, with the smoke moving freely in the air, I feel the conception of freedom, much like a baby coming to the world naked. Unfortunately, it’s the high technology and money that drives the villagers away from their original place. They live far away from their birthplace. They now mostly live somewhere in a city with pollution, sighing to the cold wall made of concrete with grey or white paint falling now and again. They would question themselves, “Where do I belong?” Maybe many out there have some money, own a house out of downtown, buy a car driving around, marry to someone blindly and carry their family lines by having another son or even another illegal child. But really, are they all happy in the city? Happier than the old time when there was no single bridge to connect to the big cities?

See the road? It’s a place located at Xiadang Township(This link -released old photos reveal Xi’s experience in Fujian, my hometown),where the current chairman, Xi Jinping, had work experiences before and visited again last summer, there is still corruption and corrupted feudal thinking. It has taken so long to build a proper road and it is still not finished. It’s definitely not lack of money but where the money has gone.

As a village on the edge of China, any idea for the good of its own might go nowhere. Just like no one knows how the cock communicates with the hen and how it is possible that the oldest woman still survives in my home village with her bound feet. Look at her, isn’t she like a model or something for a painter or photographer?

Look at the chickens, it seems they don’t even bother to talk to each other. They are the victims, just like those villagers who have moved to big cities and who also don’t bother to talk like they did before in the village.