本文发表在 rolia.net 枫下论坛There wasn’t much fun in the final year of the high school. There were two groups of students in school: those who knew what they were doing and those who had no idea what to do with their lives. There were a dozen of students whose paths were paved by their parents who were well-educated, well connected and highly resourceful. Those students were mysterious, setting their eyes on universities in USA, and were busy with something called TOFFLE. It was from the shreds of information accidentally leaked from them, did I know there was a possibility that some people could make their way to USA, but for me, relocating to a different city was already an insurmountable barrier, let alone getting a passport to get out of the country. Their paths were adventurous, exciting and methodical. Their parents were either professor, or elite military officer, or government official, and who were in such important positions that, in a contrast to the rest of ignorant population, they knew what they were doing. Unfortunately, I belonged to the other group - the dominant and ignorant one.

Spring was such a mating season for all animals. I still played table tennis with Xie and innocently wasted our time on listening to music. Inexplicably, I was particularly interested in women that year, especially older women, and always wondered what their bodies look like. But it never dawned on me that I was so close to a girl all the time, Xie, that it could be most convenient to ask her. However, I never looked at her in an erotic way; besides, no matter how close we were, I couldn’t just ask, “since we are so close and share all the secrets, can we educate each other on this thing?” So, I had to find another source to satisfy my curiosity.

Everyone has sex fantasies. My fantasies were always hazy, dreamy, but based on real persons in real world. There were several women stepped into my fantasies, who were invariably 5 – 10 years older. Probably because, subconsciously, I had assumed they were more experienced and in full bloom, it would be nice to have an intercourse guidance of some kind from them. There was someone in my neighbourhood, who was in her mid twenties, plump in a voluptuous way, a pair of eyes very inviting (or I had imagined), came into my fantasies constantly. But her reputation was beyond repair. The whole neighbourhood despised her, spitting on and trashing her whenever possible, for none other reason but one that she was said to have slept with someone and then been dumped.

Men talked about her in a derogative way that always sounded sour-grape to me, more ruefully than reproachfully, as if blaming why they were not that lucky asshole who had banged her. Men loved to talk about sex and women. But since they were brought up in a culture in which sex was depicted as a dirty and immoral thing, they had to show correspondingly “correct” reaction to the topic. So, they verbally abused, insulted and mocked women whom they thought were immoral, in great details and a juicy way; and at the same time, satisfying their own curiosities. However, the most venomous remarks were from women as if her conducts had brought great shame to women as a whole and devalued the virginity, like a price-cutting house resetting the market prices of all the other houses on the same street. I overheard some gossip among a group of women, “she is a whore!” One woman said indignantly.

“Bitch!” another woman agreed eagerly.

“Shameless!”

“Second-hand shoes!” - A popular term at the time being used on those women who had sex before getting married.

“She should have killed herself for bringing such a shame to her family.”

But these remarks only made her even more appealing to me. I imagined someday, she would take my hand and lead me to her room, and stand in front of me and say, “little brother, I know you want to see my body and I am ready to show it; I am going to teach you everything about women and make you a real man.” I did not know it was my desire or sympathy that I wanted to tell her that I liked her and would like to take her away. I did not care her reputation. But there was one problem: I had neither the guts nor means to take her, not to mention the fact that I did not know any other places but the city in which I was living. So, I kept the fantasy to myself. There was one political event occurred in 1989 that was so historic that I was glad something could take my mind away from sex fantasies.

Without a clear goal in mind, Xie and I once again became loners, ping-ponging away some wonderful afternoons. Xie was very accommodating. I never saw her upset, irritable, glum or anything. She was always cheerful, laughing at all my jokes, listening intently to whatever I was talking about. She was like a safe harbour, quiet and unobtrusive, but safe and comfy, always there for me to moor, recharge and recover. Sometimes, I took it for granted that she was always there for me, until when we split on our paths to different cities after high school, did I realize how valuable our friendship was.

Xie and I often snuck into the nearby university to play table tennis. We were quite envious of those university students who were far away from parents, totally free of constraints, and their lives were so interesting. We believed the real romance should be happening in university, because I witnessed a couple nervously grouping each other at the foot of a small hill. I hate to say that scene instantly brought back my own fantasies. But what I did not know was the fate had cruelly played a joke on them, and destroyed idealism and creativeness of those students and students coming after them. Some of them lost their lives that year, but what they did in that summer, had tremendously inspired others, including me.

In June, 1989, my memory of China was quite easy-going, colorful, on a path to a modern and open society. University campus was full of clubs and debates, and lectures were posted on the walls. Those thinking on politics, philosophy and economics had opened my eyes, changed me forever. Xie and I went to that university virtually every day. Free mind and free will was indeed a dangerous thing to the ruling autocrats. To tightly control people, they needed to control minds, while university was such a place that tended to break such control on minds. Thus, a clash was inevitable. What I did not expect was someone had to die, and those who had died were later mocked by the same people for whose rights and dignity they had been fighting.

In China of 1989, people were discontent, about inequality, injustice and corruption. But they were not trained to think the regime was doomed to produce these things. The odd thing was they were “allowed” to express themselves freely, especially on campuses. The direct result of people being “allowed” to think and speak relatively freely was that famous parade on the street, initially led by students, then followed by the people of all walks. Xie wasn’t very interested in what was going on. So, I sometimes snuck onto the streets alone. There wasn’t much news on the TV. People were so confused by the utter silent government that they were fooled into believing, like several times in history, it was ok to protest. We all turned to the Voice of America for news about China. Foreign journalists were not “allowed” to report the events in China, and the joke was Chinese government kept coming out denouncing those foreign journalists who were having a hard time piecing bits of information together for producing inaccurate news on China. I remembered every day I glued my ears to a radio, trying to make out the Voice of America amid electronic disturbances and disruptions from Chinese government since the radio was branded as illegal. As I started to believe the country had been built on piles of lies, I wasn’t too concerned about how much of news from Voice of America was true.

June 4th, 1989, some people died, for the benefits of someone else. What saddens me is, even today, those mothers who have lost their sons are still not “allowed” to mourn over their loss, all in the name of the “greater good” of the country, a concept I have learned to ignore. I was horrified by what had happened and first time in my life, I had a clear view of my future: to leave the country.

Following the aftermath of the 1989 crackdown on China’s budding democracy was a massive political purge. Everyone in my school was required to sign a declaration that basically to declare that we did not participate in the movement. Of course, I lied as I figured the country was built on lies wouldn’t mind adding one more from me. Magically, millions of people who had played a role in the event, all but mysteriously disappeared - all claiming having nothing to do with the movement and sincerely condemning this “anti-revolutionary” riot. What a pervert country! I guess that is how China has become the largest knock-off products manufacturer in the world because anything authentic would be smashed miserably by knock-offs.

Xie was the first one who knew my depression and my ambition to get out of the country. I solemnly declare my “decision” to her which was very funny, because I wasn’t directly involved in the movement.

“I want to go to USA.”

“Why?”

“I can’t accept that they could kill their own people and force everyone else to believe it is ok.”

“How?” As usual, Xie never judged me.

“I don’t know yet, but at least I have a goal.” All of sudden, I felt I belong to the group who knew what they were doing.

It was the final year of the high school, both of us knew we would end up in a different city. We would miss each other. Tears started rolling down on her cheeks and I looked away. To fight the tears in my own eyes, I started singing Qi Qin’s song, Outside World:

(http://youtu.be/rmPWR9Szmig)

Long time ago, long time ago,

You had me, I had you;

Long time ago, long time ago,

You left me to explore the edge of the world;

Outside world is exciting, outside world is frustrating,

If you feel the outside world is exciting,

Keep in mind I will be here and pray for you,

Every sun down, twilight time,

I am always here waiting for you,

There is drifting rain in the sky,

I am still here waiting for the day when you come back.
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“You know, we are like a pair of parallel lines.” She said without looking at me.更多精彩文章及讨论，请光临枫下论坛 rolia.net