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NEW AUTHORS SHOWCASE
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26-08-08 6M p6 |
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My Journey with China by Anne Depaulis |
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MY JOURNEY WITH CHINA The book is about my life as a student in China in the mid 80’s and subsequent trips. It is a personal account, through the eyes of an anglicized French woman, now working for the Bank of China.
Did I hear of a Grand Prix in Shanghai? French Luxury goods selling like hot cakes? The world politicians flocking to Beijing to close mega deals? Investment banks fighting for the listing of state-owned enterprises? A far cry from my days in China... I remember how in 1986 I flew to China for the first time, to be a student of Mandarin for six months. The cheapest flight I could find was with a Rumanian airline and the journey took thirty-six hours with several stops. We left London in an old Tupolev on a cold and miserable day, in late February. Fortunately, we boarded a larger plane in Bucharest and, before our final destination, stopped in Karachi. There was just enough time for a cup of tea, the local style with a strong taste of ginger and cardamom. Many hours later, I walked through the deserted airport of Beijing, holding my breath. As soon as I set foot on Chinese soil, there was a feeling of time warp; everything looked bare and desolate. I walked under a large banner, “Welcome to Beijing International” it said in Chinese. I felt proud I could read as much as that. I had done a degree in Chinese in the mid 70’s, in France, but it was long forgotten for lack of practise. I went through Immigration in record time, then to the luggage section to find my suitcase was already there. Shortly afterwards, a good-looking man walked towards me. He introduced himself as Mr. Wang. “I am here on behalf of our college. Welcome to Beijing, Miss Anne”, he said, in a rehearsed manner. Within no time, I was whisked away in a white ‘Shanghai’, a car just like the one I remembered from reading Tintin & The Blue Lotus.
The trip from the Beijing airport to my college took about an hour. The Beijing Teachers’ Training College was located in the North-western part of the capital, home to a lot of universities. It was quite late in the day and staff at the reception immediately took me to my room, spartan to say the least. The floor was bare concrete, the bed extremely hard and the only piece of furniture was a shoddy looking table. Communication proved difficult as my Chinese was rusty. A young American with ‘yellow hair’, ’huang toufa’ came to my rescue and explained the situation. “Things often break down here, so you’d better learn the word “huai le'“, meaning, “it’s broken” in Chinese. My new friend, John, added with a broad smile: “Usually the conversation goes on like this “Zenme ban?”, “What to do?” and the Chinese will inevitably say with a shrug “Meiyou banfa” “Nothing can be done”. I quickly discovered that Classical Chinese does not help much when your shower is not working.
FROM RED NECKS TO RED CHINA LEARNING CHINESE IN FRANCE DURING THE CULTURAL REVOLUTION I was a student of Chinese in the early 70’s in France. In those days, my motivation for learning Chinese, besides Pearl Buck’s novels and “The Blue Lotus”, was the challenge of learning a difficult language. I became quickly fascinated with Chinese characters and, most of all, I liked my classmates, a small group of fun and interesting people. Among our teachers, one lived in China in the early 60’s and our Head of Department, a Frenchman born in Japan, was a prominent Sinologist. Another, also French, had to leave China in the middle of the Cultural Revolution, in the late 60’s, when things got rough. He was banned from playing the piano, a decadent pass-time in China during that period and hadn’t quite recovered from the difficult time he had. I was by far the youngest but this eclectic crowd quickly adopted me. The Cultural Revolution was then in full swing and the books to learn Chinese, from Beijing, were full of political jargon. To this day, I have not forgotten “useful” phrases such as “we must follow the path of Marxism Leninism”...” and “Long live Chairman Mao..” For three years, I learned a lot of political vocabulary and took a course in Classical Chinese but never learned how to say, “My shower is broken, can you please fix it?” One of the highlights of my university days was an extra curriculum activity initiated by one of our teachers. Under Madame Gauthier’s supervision, a few of us started translating a novel and met at her house every other Saturday. The book was “Family” by the famous writer Ba Jin born in the early 1900’s. He lived in Paris, in the late 20’s, and had just been rehabilitated in China. He was in disgrace for many years because of his sympathy with Democracy. “Family” is about the disintegration of a Chinese family with old-fashioned values. The novel gave us a detailed account of everyday life in China in the early part of the century. I can still hear the shuffling of mah-jong tiles – the twittering of sparrows, as they say in Chinese - and the bickering of idle women secluded in that courtyard house. We all enjoyed working on the translation of “Family” and, every time we finished a chapter, our teacher baked a cake to celebrate. Unfortunately, somebody else was working on the same book and, before we knew it, the French translation was published. This is how I found out that life is not always a piece of cake… During that period at university, I went through several culture shocks and one of them was readjusting to France as well as learning Chinese. I had just come back from living with an American family in Texas. My time in Dallas was about the humble experience of learning English and coping with cultural differences. I met people conservative to an extreme, sometimes described as “red necks” by other Americans. I also learned those so-called “red necks” could be warm and helpful. Back in France, the transition from “Red Necks” to “Red China” was not an easy one but I knew that year abroad had transformed my life. It paved the way to the success of my Journey with China as it taught me to deal with differences.
A CHANCE TO GO TO CHINA After I graduated from university, China was on the back burner for many years, as it seemed doubtful I should ever go there. In 1980, I married an Englishman and went to live in London for many years. One day, David looked at me with a stern face and said in his usual collected manner “There is something about you that really upsets me”. It felt like a punch in the stomach and I thought I may have done something wrong. “You said you would pick up Chinese again and you haven’t done anything about it”...to which I laughed nervously, feeling relieved. It was ironic that, shortly after my divorce, the chance to go to China should have come unexpectedly. On a grim rainy evening in January 1986, I was on a London double-decker on my way home, absorbed in my horoscope. It said “something really exciting is going to happen in your life” I shrugged my shoulders and decided to get off the bus to stop by the Youth Organization for which I did voluntary work. The staff was frantic as somebody had just pulled out of a China programme for “mature students”. They did not want to disappoint the Chinese and had to find a replacement quickly. They suddenly all looked at me. “How about going to China for six months? You’ve studied Chinese and, most of all, you have a British passport to fill our quota” To this, they gave me a stiff drink and added I had two days to make up my mind. Needless to say, my decision was made instantly but I felt I had to make a few calls before the final commitment. As expected, my family and close friends were very supportive. My grandmother, then eighty-eight, said on the phone “I may not be around when you come back but it’s not important, you must go to China”. The only hurdle I could see was from my Bank Manager since I had a mortgage for my flat in London. Against all expectations, he was truly supportive. “In all these years, you are my first customer going to China” he said proudly. The following few weeks were busy resigning from my job, packing warm clothes for the winter in Beijing, getting a visa and saying good bye to friends and family... |