by Liu, Cynthea
Cece nodded. She’d love to see what a mosque that old looked like.
Soon they approached a narrower street marked by a gate with a banner above written in Chinese and English. Cece read, WELCOME TO BEIYUANMEN ISLAMIC STREET. The Muslim Quarter was a feast of sights and sounds. The main thoroughfare was paved with wide rectangular stones that gave the street an old feel, and it was closed to traffic, allowing visitors to stroll the shops and restaurants on either side. Snack carts dotted the walkways, and vendors called for passersby to taste their offerings. Overhead, Cece noticed a number of wooden birdcages hanging from the trees, each inhabitant singing its song. She took it all in, smiling. It was such an interesting place.
“The Muslim Quarter has some of Xi’an’s best and most authentic cuisine,” James boasted as they approached a restaurant.
Hearing the word “authentic” made Cece feel uncertain, but as they stepped inside, Peter whispered, “Don’t worry. You will like this food—no heads, no eyes.” Cece smiled weakly and entered the restaurant. The place smelled inviting, like a home-cooked meal of pot roast baking in the oven. They took a seat at a long cafeteria-style table, and Peter and James ordered for Cece and Kallyn. Within minutes, giant bowls of a broth soup lay before them. “We are having yangrou paomo,” Peter said. “It is a traditional Xi’an Muslim dish.” The server set down a plate of white bread that looked like pitas.
“The bread is called mo,” James said.
“You break it into your soup, like this.” Peter ripped the bread into bits and dropped them into his bowl.
Cece and Kallyn did the same. Cece watched as the pieces expanded, soaking up the flavors of the soup.
“Now eat,” Peter said.
Following his lead, Cece picked up her chopsticks and loaded her plastic spoon—a little bread, some vegetables, a piece of lamb. Then she scooped it into her mouth. Her tongue tasted an amazing combination of flavors she’d never encountered before. The broth was tangy, spicy, rich.... Maybe she would like some of the food here after all.
Afterward, Cece paid for her share, which came to about twelve yuan, less than a $1.50 in the United States. As they all stepped outside, James said, “Now we will take you to see some history.”
They didn’t have to walk far before they arrived at the Great Mosque. The architectural elements of the mosque were nothing like Cece had expected. She remembered what a mosque was supposed to look like from a global history class she had taken in school, and this wasn’t it. Instead of domes and minarets, this mosque looked very Chinese, with many of the buildings built like pagodas.
In the courtyards, tourists and locals milled about. A prayer hall toward the rear of the mosque was large enough to hold hundreds of worshippers. As Cece took a picture of the courtyard with the hall in the background, something in the corner of the frame caught her eye. She spotted a young Asian girl who reminded her of herself when she was a toddler. The girl had the same blunt hair-cut and was holding a Popsicle. Her mother was resting on a bench, plastic bags of groceries beside her, enjoying the solitude of the area. The girl hopped from one stone tile to the next, like she was playing a game of hopscotch. Cece lowered her camera and suddenly wondered what it would have been like if she had grown up here. With her birth mother looking on. Smiling at her like that.
“Hey, Cece,” Kallyn said, interrupting her thoughts. “Are you ready to move on?”
Cece turned toward Kallyn, who was now standing beside her. Peter and James were by one of the gates as if they were ready to leave.
“Yeah,” Cece said, giving the little girl one last glance. She quickly took a picture of the hall and followed Kallyn toward their hosts.
“Who is up for some bargain shopping?” Peter said as they left the mosque.
“I’m in,” Cece said.
Kallyn rubbed her hands together. “Me, too.”
“Great, then we are in the right place,” James said. “The Muslim District holds the largest souvenir market in Xi’an.”
Peter and James led them to a network of alleys just behind the restaurants they had passed earlier. Cece couldn’t believe what she saw. One minute, they were standing in a peaceful mosque, and the next, every square inch of her visual field was filled with dozens of stalls carrying merchandise—knockoff Gucci and Prada handbags, Polo shirts, jackets, suitcases. In addition to the fakes, every tchotchke imaginable was available, including chops—jade stampers that were used to seal documents with red wax—ivory Buddhas, miniature mahjong sets, and statuettes of the Terra Cotta Warriors.
“Hey, Cece. . . ” Kallyn stopped by one of the stalls. She held up a very good copy of a North Face windbreaker. “This would be perfect for my boyfriend—Ryan’s so outdoorsy. But do you think if I gave this to him, it would be too much? Like too personal ?”
“How long have you been going out?”
“Only a few months,” Kallyn said.
“Maybe you should get something like this instead?” Cece held up an empty wooden box with a dragon carved into the top. “I think this says, dating with possibilities.”
The sales guy nodded in agreement, even though he probably didn’t understand a word Cece had said.
Kallyn smiled. “I think you’re right.”
After Kallyn paid for the box, they shopped some more, and Cece let Peter bargain down a set of silk place mats for her mother, an antique-looking lock for her father, and a silk-embroidered handbag for Alison.
On the way back to the university, the four of them packed onto a bus, and once again, it was so crowded they had to stand.
“Did you have a good day?” Peter asked.
Cece nodded as she and Kallyn tried to stay on their feet. The bus came to a sudden halt, probably to avoid another bicyclist. “I’ve loved everything but the transportation,” Cece said, trying to dislodge Kallyn’s elbow from her ribs.
Kallyn sighed. “I second that.”
The group grew quiet for a moment, and Cece thought more about the day. She remembered the young girl she had seen at the mosque, and renewed hope welled up within her. Perhaps she would learn something about herself while she was in China. She glanced at Peter and smiled. It had been a good day. A great day, and she still had a whole evening to go.
After a short nap, Cece was ready to go out again and experience more of the city. That night, Jess’s special plans turned out to be going to a club with Will, Lisa, Michael, and Dreyfuss. They hailed two cabs to their destination, and along the way, Cece felt optimistic about the evening. She’d decided she’d listen to Al’s advice and have a little fun. When they got to the club, the energy inside the place was infectious. Techno music thrummed in Cece’s ears as laser lights swept the two-story building. The closest thing to a club she had been to was a teen place in Dallas, and it was so lame, Al and Cece had sworn they’d never go again. But this place was amazing. The people were more sophisticated, and the music was infinitely better.
Though Cece wasn’t as skilled in the art of gyrating as Jess and Lisa, she definitely held her own on the dance floor. She even caught Will’s eye and smiled, hoping that maybe he had managed to put the previous night’s vomiting episode out of his mind. Will smiled back, and Cece felt forgiven. She started to maneuver herself closer, eager to talk to him and maybe get to know him better, but suddenly, Jess was shimmying in front of him, whispering in his ear. Cece felt a twinge of jealousy, but she kept smiling and acted like it didn’t matter. Then she saw Lisa snuggling up to Michael, leaving Cece and Dreyfuss dancing with each other. And Dreyfuss looked just a little too excited by the opportunity. Cece knew she had to do something to ensure they stayed just friends.
“Hey Dreyfuss, I think I’m going to sit this one out.” Dreyfuss nodded, looking crestfallen.
“I guess that’s my cue to get something to drink.” He smiled wanly, then headed to one of the bars.
Cece sat at a nearby table, and soon after the song finished, she saw everyone—except for Will—head for one of the bars. Will
glanced in Cece’s direction, then started walking over.
Cece straightened.
“Hey, Cece,” Will said. “Is everything okay?”
Cece tried to look casual. “Yeah. Just needed a break.”
“I could use a break myself,” Will said. “Do you mind if I sit?” He grabbed the seat beside her, then paused. “Wait a second, you’re not going to throw up on me again, are you?”
Cece laughed. “No, you’re safe. I’m so sorry about that.”
Will sat down, then rubbed his palms against his jeans. “So I know this is going to sound weird,” he began, “but there’s something I wanted to say to you. . . . ”
Cece’s pulse quickened. “Really? What’s that?”
“I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable. On the plane? About you, uh, being adopted?”
“Oh.” Cece fidgeted in her seat.
“I just assumed—”
“No,” Cece said. “There’s no need to apologize. I’m the one who got all weird. I guess I’m a little. . . I don’t know—”
“You don’t have to explain,” Will cut in. “Why don’t we start over instead?” He held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Will.”
Cece took in a cleansing breath, then smiled as they shook. She tried to ignore the tingles that marched up her arm. “Nice to meet you, Will. I’m Cece.”
“So... what do you hope to get out of the program, Cece?”
Cece laughed again. “Now this is a real conversation.”
“Hey, it’s safe, isn’t it?” Will said. “Now spill it.”
Cece looked at him. “You really want to know?”
“Actually, I do.”
“Okay. I guess it’d be nice to learn more about the country I was born in. It’ll be good for me. Plus, I think I might be a curator for a museum one day, and the program seemed like a perfect fit.” She tilted her head at Will. “And what about you? I mean, I know an anthropology program wasn’t exactly your idea, but do you have any hopes for the summer?”
Will smiled. “I have a few. . . . ”
“Such as?”
“I can’t divulge them all.” He looked at her, then glanced away. “At least not yet.”
Whoa. Did one of those hopes have something to do with her? She couldn’t be sure.
“Well, perhaps you can tell me at least one of them.”
“Now we’re getting personal,” Will quipped as he leaned toward her. Their knees accidentally touched for a moment, and a jolt of electricity shot through her.
“I’m listening,” Cece said.
“All right. I’ll play. Remember how I said I needed to get away this summer?”
Cece nodded.
“Well, the truth is, my dad is splitting up with my mom, and he doesn’t want me around when he breaks the news.”
“Oh, no. I wasn’t expecting that.” She got serious for a moment. “So then you’re hoping they stay together?”
Will chuckled. “Uh, not exactly. I’m a realist, not delusional. I just hope things turn out okay in the end, you know?”
“I see,” Cece said. “Will, I’m sorry.”
“Now you don’t have to apologize. Besides, I’m glad to be here. China will be good for me, too.”
They sat there for a moment, and neither of them said anything. Then Cece glanced at Will, and she realized her nervousness had all but disappeared. She was comfortable around him.
“Since we’re getting. . . um. . . personal,” Cece said, “you want to know the other reason I’m here?”
“There’s more?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Shoot.”
“Well. . . ” Cece tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “One of the reasons I came here was to look for my birth parents.”
“Wow,” Will said. “That’s big.”
“Yup.”
“This is sort of interesting, isn’t it? My family is splitting up, and you’re trying to reunite with yours.”
“Yeah,” Cece said.
“So... do you have any idea where you’ll start looking?” Will asked.
“Actually—”
“Will, Will!” Jessica said, interrupting the conversation. “Where have you been?” Her eyes were excited, and her hair looked a little tossed. A drink sloshed in her hand.
“You’ve got to dance another song with us out there. Lisa found a great spot next to the speakers.” She tugged on Will’s arm.
Will gave Cece a quick look, then turned to Jess. “Are you okay?”
“Totally. Come on! Let’s go.”
“All right,” Will said, laughing. “I’ll talk to you later, Cece?”
Cece smiled and nodded as Jess pulled Will onto the floor. As he walked onto the dance floor, she tried to make sense of her conversation with him. He’d seemed honest, for sure. Open and interested. And now, as she watched Jess throw herself at him, she guessed that he was probably dancing with her roommate only out of politeness.
But still, she wished she was the one out there dancing beside him.
Chapter Four
Cece woke up the next morning and immediately groaned. She had slept through her alarm and woke up a half an hour late. She glanced at Jess’s bed, which was empty. Hmm, even Miss Forced-to-Be-Here was up earlier than she was.
Cece hurried to get ready to make it to class on time, and when she left her room, she noticed Jessica on the phone in the hall. She was speaking Chinese. Cece paused and signaled to Jess, wondering if she should wait so they could head out together. Jess covered the phone with her hand and whispered. “Go on without me. It’s my dad. Classes haven’t even started, and he’s already on my case.” She rolled her eyes, then went back to speaking on the phone.
Cece nodded and made her way to the academic building to her Chinese I language class. When she stepped inside, she realized she was actually early. The teacher hadn’t arrived yet, and only a handful of students were there. She spotted Kallyn and sat in the seat behind her.
“Hey, Kallyn,” Cece said.
“Hey. You look pretty wiped. What did you do last night?”
Cece took out her notebook from her backpack. “We just went clubbing.”
“Oh?” Kallyn said. “With Jess and Lisa?”
“Yeah, and a few guys.”
Kallyn smiled. “Sounds exciting.”
Cece thought about her conversation with Will. “It was fun. What did you do?”
“Enh. . . ” Kallyn played with the pen in her hand. “I just grabbed dinner in the dining hall and met a few people from the program. Nothing mind-blowing.”
More students filtered in.
“Maybe next time you’ll come with me,” Cece said.
“Clubbing? Nah, that sorta thing is lost on me. Now that I’m with Ryan it seems kinda pointless, you know?”
“Then something else.”
“Sure.”
At that moment, the language professor strolled in with a mug of coffee in his hand and an arm loaded with files. He set down his things on a nearby desk and surveyed the room. “. . . jiu, shi, shi yi, shi er. Twelve. Good. Everyone is here. Let me start off by saying, Zao.”
The professor waited as though the class was supposed to respond. No one said a word.
“Okay, I see we’ve got lots of work to do. I am Professor Sutton, your Chinese I instructor. You all have been assigned to this section because, as you might have guessed, you failed the language portion of the proficiency exam.”
A couple of sighs could be heard throughout the room.
“Oh no,” Professor Sutton said, “don’t be disappointed. This is good. You are clean slates. Unlike some of your Americanized counterparts in the other sections, you actually have a shot of having a perfect accent .”
At this, Cece brightened. Maybe there was an upside to being as clueless as she was. She reveled at the idea of speaking Chinese flawlessly.
“But let me be clear,” Professor Sutton continued. “Over the course of this summer, you will not only learn ho
w to order food or hail a cab, you will also learn about the origin of the Chinese language and how the language distinguishes itself from others around the world. By taking this class, you will get a basic understanding of how to describe written and spoken communication in the context of the study of humanity—that is anthropology. Does everyone understand?”
“So basically,” a girl said, “we’re going to learn why Chinese uses characters and why other languages use letters?”
“Something like that,” Professor Sutton said.
A couple of the students nodded. Someone yawned.
“All right, let’s start off with phonology. . . . ”
When class was over, Cece’s head was swimming. She had just been told that in a few days, she needed to learn pinyin, a Romanized system designed to help students learn Chinese pronunciation using alphabetic letters. Then to learn how to read and write, Cece would have to practice writing the individual strokes that made up each zi, or character, until it was committed to memory. Finally, each day they’d be assigned a new vocabulary list. She would have to stay on top of it all, or there would be no way she’d pass.
Cece attended her next two classes, evolution and archaeology, where she felt much more comfortable. In fact, she was familiar with most of the basic material, but she’d still have to put in some effort to do well—there’d be papers to write and plenty more to memorize. But when she got to her culture class, she immediately knew it would be a much tougher challenge. Without even a greeting, Professor Hu paced the aisle and suddenly stopped in front of Cece’s desk. “Tell me. Where fortune cookie come from?” she asked, peering at Cece through her Coke-bottle glasses.
Cece was completely caught off guard. “Um. . . ”
“Wrong,” Professor Hu said. “America. How many of you know this already?”
No one raised his hand.
Professor Hu smiled, but her grin looked kind of evil. “And this is why you are in my class.”
She got right down to business, returning to the chalkboard and writing two words: Final paper.
Cece turned to Kallyn and mouthed, She’s talking about finals already?