by Zoë S. Roy
Later, in bed, her legs wrapped around his, his mouth on hers, she thought of Liya and she shivered. “Honey, is something wrong?” Roger lifted his head.
“I’m a little preoccupied. I was thinking about one of my friends in China.”
“Get the story off your chest. You’ll feel better.” Roger held her in his arms while her head nestled on his chest.
“I think I would like to sing a Chinese folk song instead, and see if you like it.”
“Do you need to dress up for this performance or do you prefer to remain naked?” he asked, a cheeky grin on his face. He stroked her hair playfully.
“Just like this. Since you’re my only audience, I don’t even need to stand up,” she said laughing.
“Wait, let me get my guitar.” He jumped out of bed and rushed upstairs. When he came back, he leaned against the headboard next to her. With his fingers on the strings, he said, “You start. I’ll follow you.”
“The song is called ‘Flowing Stream’ she said, then cleared her throat and started:
The full moon rises high
My admirer is on the mountain
Like the moon shines at night
Age emits sparkling light
At the foot of the hill
A brook bubbles under moonlight
The silver ray blankets the summit
Age brightens my sight
I miss you, my true love
The breeze blows from the heights
My faraway Age,
Can you hear my chant?
Roger’s guitar melody blended easily with Nina’s lyrics and their music filled the room. ““It’s a love song, right?,” he said, putting his guitar by the side of the bed. “Tell me what ‘Age’ means.”
Nina’s face glittered under the glow of the lamps. “‘Age’ literally means ‘brother.’” Sensing Roger’s confusion, she added, “But it has nothing to do with love between brother and sister. In Chinese folklore, a person calls her/his sweetheart ‘brother’ or ‘sister.’”
“Nice, but very odd. How could I tell whether this ‘brother’ is a sibling or a ‘lover’?”
“The word ‘brother’ has a few different meanings. For the most part, in a song or poem, a brother or sister means ‘lover,’” she explained. “If you understood the language and culture, you would understand the meaning of the word from the context.”
He pulled her into his arms. “I can’t imagine calling you ‘sister.’ I don’t feel like thinking of you as my sister.”
Nina giggled. “This is a cultural difference. When I hear a song with the word, ‘Age,’ I envision a girl in love. When I sang this song with my old friends at the military farm, all I could think was how much I missed you.”
“You look beautiful when you sing, my darling. Call me ‘Age’ if that arouses you,” he whispered into her neck as his hands explored her smooth body. Nina sighed as she wrapped her arms around him and met his lips with her own.
November 25 was Thanksgiving Day. Nina took the ferry to Portland to visit with Eileen and Bruce. Nina sat on the old couch in the living room, remembering her time in the house five years earlier. Eileen entered the room with some tea and biscuits, placed them on the coffee table, and then sat down next to Nina. “You look wonderful, Eileen. Your face is so smooth and lovely, and you don’t even have any wrinkles,” Nina said.
Eileen laughed, pleased at the compliment. “My secret is drinking lemon juice.”
Bruce ran his fingers through his greying hair. “I don’t think the same can be said for me,” he chuckled. “I am getting greyer every day, but I think I can still climb up on the roof and repair the shingles.”
Nina pulled some packages from her pack. “These are sticking plasters my mother suggested for you, Bruce. They should relieve some of your joint pain and the ache in your muscles. Inside, I have translated the instructions on how to use the plasters into English.”
“Thanks,” Bruce said and opened the packet with curiosity. “I want to try one right away.”
Nina handed another packet to Eileen. “And this is for you. I hope you like it.”
Eileen opened the packet. “Oh, it’s a beautiful silk blouse,” she said, caressing the smooth fabric with her fingers.
“I hope you like the colour, Eileen. There were only a few choices in the store.” Nina remembered that most of the department stores she had visited in China were half-empty. She had finally found the pretty blue blouse in the Friendship Store.
Eileen asked Nina to tell them more about her trip to China. Fascinated by her experiences, Eileen asked, “Can you come to our church’s party tomorrow? I’d like more people to hear you about your trip.”
“Sure, I can do that,” Nina said. Then, with a delicate sniff, she added. “Is that wonderful aroma coming from a roasting turkey?”
“Yes, dear. It’s almost done,” Eileen said. “By the way, we’ve invited a family to join us for dinner. They are refugees from Laos.”
“Let me help you prepare the dinner.”
“Can you make a stir-fry?” Eileen asked. “I have some green beans, some carrots, and bok choy.”
“Do you have chili?” Nina asked. “I think Laotian people like spicy food.” She followed Eileen into the kitchen and the two busied themselves with the final preparations for their meal.
When the family from Laos arrived, Eileen introduced the Tsheejs to Nina. She was surprised to see their ten-year-old daughter, Nou Kha, dressed in a multi-coloured tubular skirt and top, and wearing a silver neckband that sported several tiny, jingling bells. Nina said, “Your clothes resemble that of the Miao people.”
“‘Clothes’?” Mrs. Tsheej mumbled and turned to her daughter for help. The daughter interpreted for her mother and then replied in English, “Mom said, ‘My daughter’s clothes are homemade.’”
“What you are wearing is very pretty.” Nina said slowly. “I saw similar clothes being worn by the Miao people in Yunnan and Hainan provinces. The Miao also live in other southern provinces of China. Girls and women wear many pleated skirts one over the other.” After Nou Kha interpreted this for her mother, Nina asked another question: “Do Hmong men play music with reed pipes?”
“Yes, we play,” Mr. Tsheej said in broken English. “Our ancestors are from China. Perhaps, the Hmong and Miao are the same people.”
The host and guests began their meal and talked amiably about the similarities between the two cultures. Nina’s stir-fried vegetables and Mrs. Tsheej’s sticky rice cakes added some exotic flavours to the traditional American turkey dinner that Eileen had prepared. When the Tsheejs learned that Nina had recently graduated from a university, Mr. Tsheej said, “We hope our daughter can go university.”
“I’m sure she can if she is willing,” Nina said.
Mr. Tsheej told them about his parents who had helped the Americans in the Vietnam War, and a year later were killed when the communists, Pathet Lao, occupied Laos. Like many of the Hmong people, the Tsheejs went to Thailand to the refugee camp there. Many Western countries, like Canada, had accepted them as refugees and they had chosen the United States. “I was a child and I saw the Americans. I hear about their country, so I was very happy about moving here,” Mr. Tsheej said.
That’s very interesting. You should write about it someday.”
“I wish I could,” Mr. Tsheej said. He made a gesture of holding a pen. “I need to learn to write.”
Before the family left, Nina gave her pen to Mr. Tsheej, and said, “Please accept this pen as my gift to you. You can learn how to write, and I will look forward to reading your work.”
“Thank you and see you all again soon,” Nuo Kha said, waving goodbye.
Back from her visit to Maine, Nina continued to write about her experiences in China, and Roger helped her polish her writing. She was hoping to sell several other personal pieces to the lo
cal newspapers. She had sent a couple of pieces that she turned into travel articles to various travel magazines in the United States and in Canada, and was thrilled when they were accepted. When she wasn’t writing, she poured through newspapers and journals looking for news and information on China and its political affairs. Her life was simple, but she found it fulfilling and she was content.
Just before Christmas, Nina was delighted to receive a letter from her mother.
Nov. 28, 1976
Dear daughter,
I’m writing to you even though I haven’t yet received a letter from you. I hope you will get mine.
You may’ve heard from the news that the “Gang of Four” — Wang Hongwen, Zhang Chunqiao, Jiang Qing, and Yao Wenyuan — was thrown out of the Chinese Communist Party. Everything looks up now. Smiles appear on everybody’s faces.
In short, thanks to the TV you bought for me, I watch the news daily, no matter how busy I am.
Does Roger like the sweater I knitted for him?
Merry Christmas!
Love,
Your mother
Even if her own letters were still going astray, at last, the first letter from her mother in China had arrived! A breath of air had finally managed to slip out of that tightly closed door. Nina was certain now that her letters would reach her mother someday soon, too.
A year slipped away. In November, 1977, Nina learned that the Chinese government had reinstated university entrance examinations. After years of absence from school, the youth who had gone through the government’s arranged re-education in the countryside, would now have the opportunity to study at college or university. She remembered Huguo’s words: “Maybe the sun will rise from the west someday.” His odd dream is coming true. The sun rises in the West. Something that was once impossible, that was once just a dream, is now happening, Nina thought.
Several months later, she received a thick envelope with some photographs from her mother, including a letter from Dongfang.
Her mother’s letter read:
March 5, 1978
Dear Nina,
I’m glad to know you’ve published some articles in newspapers and journals. However, as a freelance writer, you must not have a regular income. Why don’t you find a permanent position that can secure your financial future? Writing could be your hobby but not a real job. Don’t you think so?
I have some good news. After passing the entrance exams, Rei was accepted at Peking University. He is studying in the Law Department.
Dr. Tang’s children have both started school, one at college, and the other at university. Many of my colleagues are extremely excited and busy these days. Almost each family has a child that has been accepted to a college this year. One family even has all three children going to university. The age difference between the oldest and the youngest is ten years.
Many young people didn’t get a chance for higher education during the past ten years. All of them took the exams at the same time! You can imagine how keen the competition was!
Tang and I have decided to get married on June 17. We’ll have a simple wedding ceremony. A couple of relatives and close friends will come over for happy candy. I assume you can join us.
I have also heard some news through the grapevine. It seems that wronged cases during the Cultural Revolution may get corrected. Hopefully, this means your father’s name will be cleared.
I’m awaiting good news from you and Roger.
Enclosed is a letter from the Number Five Military Farm. It arrived here last month. I hope I didn’t delay it for too long.
Love,
Your mother
Nina opened the second enclosed letter and smoothed it out before reading.
Jan. 28, 1978
Dear Nina,
How was your trip back to Canada? I should’ve written to you earlier. In fact, I started a letter before but didn’t finish it.
You might be interested to know a little more about the American spy incident during your recent visit.
After you and Huguo left, we cleaned the garage. The brigade leader with his militia arrived shortly afterward. They asked where the American spy was. We told them we didn’t even see one hair belonging to any American, but we had a visitor from Guangzhou who had come to Kunming for an important meeting with the municipal government. Then we explained that our visitor had just left for the meeting.
The leader asked, “Why did she ride on the tractor without her own car and driver if she is that important?’
Our answer was, “She didn’t intend to show off. Remember, Chairman Mao rode a horse in Yan’an. Dare you think he isn’t important?”
The leader hesitated. He might have remembered seeing Mao on a horse in a movie. But he still asked, “Why did people say she was from America?”
We said, “Rumours always make things intriguing and mysterious. You’re very knowledgeable and have a wonderful memory. Do you remember Chairman Mao shaking hands with the American President Nixon?”
At this moment, Kali’s hubby — you may still remember that local peasant — knelt down. He said, “My wife’s friend is gone. Could you let my wife go? I swear I heard them sing the songs of Mao’s quotations yesterday. If my wife leaves me because of you, my children will have to call your wife, ‘Grandma,’ and they’ll go live with you.”
The leader then looked at him, dismissed his group, and they went away. It was a miracle.
Since Mao’s death, earth-shaking changes have taken place. The Gang of Four was arrested. Many of us sent-down youths had a chance to take the entrance exams last December. Huguo got accepted to a college in Kunming. I’ll try next year.
By the way, we’ve heard that Wang lives in Hong Kong now. It is said he’s been doing foreign trade business in Shek O. He may become a millionaire. That’ll be our pride.
I’m sending the letter to your mother’s address. Hopefully, you’ll read it someday.
Yours truly,
Dongfang and Huguo
That evening, Nina and Roger sat in the living room. She interpreted the letters for him, and he listened with interest. He commented on the story from the letter. “It’s interesting about his kids calling the leader’s wife, ‘Grandma.’ Is that a kind of curse to make a woman older?”
Nina smiled. “In rural areas, a grandmother has a duty to take care of motherless kids. The leader didn’t want his wife to take on the responsibility of raising the offspring of that peasant.
“A very smart guy,” Roger nodded. “And what does ‘happy candy’ mean?”
“It’s some nicely wrapped candy that people use to treat guests at a wedding. Offering it means to tie the knot.”
Roger remembered reading something about Chinese wedding traditions, so he asked, “As a bride, will your mother sit in a palanquin?”
“No, that’s an old tradition. Mao and his Party abolished that custom.”
“Will she hold a wedding reception?”
“No.”
Roger grinned. “Well, then, I guess your mother is having a hippie wedding, simple and informal.”
“Maybe,” Nina smirked. “I’m thinking about going back to China for my mother’s wedding. Also, I can do some more research for my book.”
“China is at an important historical turning point,” said Roger. “It is probably an exciting time to go. If I understood and spoke Chinese, I’d go with you.”
Nina sensed Roger’s concern. “I’ll be okay.”
“Is your book going to be a memoir?” he asked
“No, not really. I want to write about my generation’s ups and downs more than about myself. Many of those who lived in Mao’s society are still not free enough to write about their lives during that regime. Still today, people are not allowed to complain about the Cultural Revolution or the Communist Party. But I have the op
portunity to do so and these human stories must be told.” Nina softened her voice. “I’m sure someday you will see China in person.”
“Maybe it’s not too late for a thirty-three-year-old man to learn the language.”
“Where there’s a will there’s a way,” Nina said. “I can teach you if you’re interested.”
“Don’t expect me to write in Chinese.” He chuckled. “I’d be thrilled if I could understand some basic Chinese. In case…” He paused and looked at her.
“In case what?”
“So, I won’t be in the dark when you speak Chinese to your child.”
“What child? Where?” Puzzled, she looked into his face.
“Will you marry me?” Roger asked, getting down on one knee. “In other words, shall we give out our own happy candy?”
“Oh, Roger, of course I will marry you,” Nina said, throwing her arms around his neck. “But I need to go back to China first,” she said, holding both his hands. “I would like to collect the firsthand information I need for my book. I hope that’s okay with you.”
“Well, I don’t want there to be any chance of me losing you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You know, just in case you meet a male hippie during your trip. At least you will travel as my fiancée.” With a smile, he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom.
19.
BROKEN-DOWN SHOE AND FRACTURED LEG
NINA ARRIVED IN Guangzhou two days before her mother’s wedding, but the following day, Dr. Tang and her mother would still go to work. There were some changes in her mother’s apartment. The walls had been repainted limestone white; two new wicker chairs flanked a small rosewood table; a framed photograph of the couple lay on the dressing table.
Nina’s present to the newlyweds was a microwave, which she had brought with her. When her mother returned from work, Nina helped pack the happy candy in small plastic bags, which the couple would pass along to their colleagues when they returned to work after a three-day wedding leave.
On Saturday evening of the wedding day, Nina’s mother invited her nephew, Rei with his wife, and Rei’s grandmother — her only relatives in the city — to join them. The other guests were Dr. Tang’s two children, his sister, and her husband. Both Nina’s mother and Tang did not intend to make a fuss over their wedding, so they had each invited only two friends. It would be a simple celebration with family and close friends.