Archive for the 'China' Category

Jun 04 2009

杨雷

Published by Forager under China, history, people

前一段突然想起在科大时的一个朋友,叫杨雷。他在89年学运后吃了不少苦。虽然有些人受的打击比他要大,但他们都熬过来了。可杨雷却不幸早逝。

杨雷也是科大的,比我高几届。我们认识得很晚。第一次认识是在一个学习小组会上。那时几个积极分子经常聚在一起,谈论时事和新的思想。有一个朋友知道我在读一本美国史(William Manchester: The Glory and the Dream A Narrative History of America), 就叫我过去“给大家说说”。

我早听说杨雷是那个小组的发起人之一,见到他时,先头倒是没看出来他是个带头的。整个过程中,他很安静,似乎一直在沉思。直到讨论快结束,要准备以后的活动时,我才感到好像大家的意见都很自然地要经过他。那次我讲得十分的糟糕,越说越没底。我想大家都看出来了。杨雷不仅没怪我,还邀请我继续参加他们的活动。

等学运开始后,我们交往反而少了。我们不在一个校园上,我又经常往北京跑,所以彼此很少见到。只是在北京开枪以后的第二天,我们几个领头的带着大家去合肥钢铁厂组织罢工,轰轰烈烈地折腾了一天。在工厂里游行时,他几乎是个旁观者。我见到他时,他站在路边树荫下。当时,我是full of myself,可杨雷好像还是那么安静。当时的印象是杨雷不是那种举起拳头喊口号的人。

之后的一年是最无聊的:杨雷,龙波和李亚都被抓去上学习班。不知怎么没有我的事。于是我就专心准备出国。我一边考着TOEFL,一边消息传来说不少人受了处分。后来龙波和杨雷都被勒令退学了。当时杨雷还有一年就要毕业了,离开学校,没机会拿到文凭,又没关系出国,他一下子就成了上海上万的待业青年之一了。

我和杨雷谈得最多的一次是我第二次去上海签证的时候。签证批下来了,我知道总算走成了。但不知道为什么要走。1984年是我”coming to age”的一年。当时35周年大庆,又是阅兵又是普天同庆,把我搞成一个热血的国家主义者。似乎我活着的目的是”经世治国“。不到五年,我的世界好像倒了一个个儿。我虽然也愤怒,也漫骂,但心里我知道我走错了路。可是为什么错了,怎么是对的,我一点没有谱。好像又回到了那次在学习小组上发言时的感觉,越想越没底。

我本没想见杨雷。但杨雷对我却十分的热情,拉我去他们家坐。好像他那时已经结婚了。可还没有工作,加上身上背着个诺大的政治包袱,要是我担心还来不及。他倒好,和我谈了好久,说了不少事情,只可惜我已经都不记得了。后来从他们家出来,路过一家小酒吧,他拉我进去了。

那时上海的酒吧和街上的小餐馆差不多。里面放满了桌子,铺着桌布,上面再压块玻璃。虽然是大白天,但里面黑得很,照明靠墙上混合在一起的霓虹灯和点亮的广告牌。我们挑了一张桌子坐下来之后,杨雷问我要些什么,说他请客。我竟然答应了。

我记得我点的是”施格兰冰酒露”,没意识到里面有烈酒。所以一会儿就头晕脑胀。记得好像谈到在来上海以前,我刚在电影院里看了个电影,其中有直升飞机的镜头。我说我当时叫了出来:“这不是运尸体的飞机吗”。我的朋友马上掐住我叫我住嘴。可周围坐得满满的人,没有一个出声。好像我真是在说给我自己听的。

也许酒喝的太多了,我们渐渐地都说不下去了。等从酒吧出来时,竟然仍天光大亮。我们都意识到是分手的时候了,杨雷突然说了一句,“出去吧,这样也好。你在外头见见世面,学些东西,等你回来的时候,好多事情也许会变了。那时正好需要你这样的人。”

我带着这句话离开了中国,带着这希望过起了打工求学的日子。毕业后万幸找到了一个工作。之后又熬啊熬地等到了绿卡。年薪一下涨了一倍。又从一个穷人中的公寓搬到自己家的房子,渐渐地在他乡异地扎下了根。89年,学运,坦克,游行,罢工,都在记忆中淡漠。杨雷的话也渐渐忘了。

过了七八年,有一次下班回家,突然接到龙波从广东打来的电话。告诉我杨雷刚刚去世。我愣了一下,好像一切突然又回到眼前。

20年了。我一直觉得生死之间不过像在悬崖边上往下看:活着的人只要仔细找,总能找到他想找的灵魂。我并没好好找过杨雷,但是20年以来我觉得我有些地方倒是和杨雷无意中越来越像了。我不会再在电影院里叫出声了,更不会去组织罢工了。

前一段,当我想起杨雷的时候,我曾经在Google,Baidu上猛搜索了一把,想找出点蛛丝马迹来证明他的存在。可是一点线索也没找到。这里写下几笔,替他在历史上留个存根。龙波报丧的时候提到杨雷夫妇有一个孩子。也许有一天他的孩子想起父亲,但愿他能找到这篇博客。

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May 15 2009

24 City, Jia Zhang-Ke

Published by Forager under China, culture, movies, reviews

Watched the 24 Cities with the Boston couple.

Never want to watch Jia’s movie sitting in a confined seat again. The movie was so repetitive, raw and edgy that when I can’t move around, I felt a dread of claustrophobia.

The movie tells close to a dozen personal stories, some warm, some sad, some funny and some inspiring. Therefore, I can’t tell what Jia is trying to express just by listening to the stories alone.

Art, particularly the abstract kind, is meant to be a mirror for the beholder. Different people can read into this movie thousands of different ways, each a reflection of one’s own neurosis.

What resonated with me was the claustrophobic life in China, the Hegemony of Others, so to speak. The fear of being just another of the 1 billion was suffocating. Other than the few pure suffering-tales in the beginning, the rest of them all tell a story of trying to find significance in one’s own being.

Xiao Hua, the Joan Chen’s character, chooses loneliness on principal. The manager’s assistant remembered not how he ascended from the bottom (to where he is today), but why he was spared a certain beating in the hands of a bully (because Zhou Enlai died on that day). The last girl (personal shopper) is perhaps the most telling: she suddenly “grew up” when she saw her mom working in a mass factory like the characters in Apple’s 1984 commercial.

Yet in the uber-materialistic contemporary China, what is considered “significant” is by no means a consensus. Maybe that is why the personal stories are so varied yet feel so familiar.

New Yorker ran a good article on Jia’s career and style: his roots in Shanxi, Martin Scoresesse’ praise, his anti-establishment credentials. Also met a movie critic Jay who lamented that Jia has become just another “Chinese director”.   One thing he pointed out was how dressy his storytelling has become versus the raw emotion, the bold expression used in his earlier days.

I guess I have to watch a couple of more his earlier works to make up my mind.

No idea who coined the poem that gives the movie its title. But it is quite beautiful: 二十四城芙蓉花,锦官自昔称繁华. But the movie reminded me more of “巴山夜雨涨秋池” kind of nostalgia.

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May 06 2009

Are They Ghouls?

Published by Forager under China

Try not to write too much in one day … very distracting. But this piece hit me pretty hard: In China, Quake Tourism Becoming Big Business

In short, parts of the quake area have become theme parks of sorts for laser tag games, water parks (the quake-dammed lakes), survivor museums, and–perhaps the most egregious–an earthquake simulation project that re-created the horrors. Although the developer said it was for educational purposes, being a wealthy real estate man apparently didn’t lend him much credit with me.

Also, learned a new word, Ghoul (”An evil spirit or demon in Muslim folklore believed to plunder graves and feed on corpses”), as one listener used it to described those developers.

Are they? Either yes or no answer makes me cringe. Like many many things happening in China.

I wonder if any American expat in the Europe in the 19th century had similar experience?

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