Smeared Type

By Jian Ping

Mary and me at Franz Josef Glacier in New Zealand last December

Mary drove Karen and me to Suzie’s, a book club member who was hosting the event starting at 10 A.M. The contemporary house was open and bright, with its backyard facing another lake. Many members had arrived, and among them, two brought their adult daughters. I soon learned several of them had visited China and one had an adopted granddaughter from China. Since they had already read my book Mulberry Child: A Memoir of China, I proceeded to show them some images of the Cultural Revolution and invited them to ask questions at any time. We had a lively discussion. Eventually, Karen had to cut in and reminded everyone that it was a quarter to noon and we needed to wrap up. I signed copies of Mulberry Child for the members and continued to chat with a few until Karen and Mary urged me to leave—we planned to grab a few sandwiches on our way back and have lunch over the lake. We didn’t have much time left since I wanted to take the 3 P.M. Amtrak train back to Chicago.

I was impressed that Karen, at 80, walked down the slope to the boat with us without any difficulties. Mary skillfully steered the boat out of the docking area and cruised at leisure around the lake. A young man was waterskiing in the middle of the lake, gracefully jumping and turning at high speed, and another man was riding a jet ski, leaving waves of splashes behind him. Other than that, no one else was on the water.

“School is still off,” Mary said. “I’m surprised not many people are out on the lake.”

I was glad the lake was not crowded with people and boats. The sun was shining, yet on the water, it felt cool. A gentle breeze created small ripples on the surface of the water, making it sparkle as if beckoning to us. It dawned on me why so many people preferred to have a second home in the country. The beauty of nature and the peace of the surroundings were so soothing and serene.

What a wonderful treat I had—receiving the warm hospitality from Mary’s parents, indulging in the friendship of my friend, and making connections with my readers! 

Thank you! Thank you all!

Jian Ping, author of Mulberry China: A Memoir of China. Visit www.moraquest.com, www.mulberrychild.com.

By Jian Ping

The time we spent in Baicheng, the small town where I grew up, was the most difficult.

The week before our arrival, my sister Yan had made a special trip to Baicheng, checking out the sites we needed to film and selecting a hotel (after visiting most of the reputable hotels in town) for us. Minutes after we checked into the hotel, Susan and Quyen started coughing, and my eyes began tearing up—I had been coughing all along because of a cold. There was no non-smoking room in the hotel and the chemicals used in the construction (it was a newer hotel) lingered in the rooms and hallways. Susan, who had athma, took out her inhaler immediately.

Mushroom for Hot Pot

We started working early the next day. The moment we were outdoor, the sand and dust swirled up by the strong wind whipped at us. Quyen had to replace her contact lens with her regular glasses. Memories of fighting against the wind as a child flashed back—I used to use a thin scarf to wrap around my head to prevent sand from getting into my eyes. I looked around and saw one girl wearing a silk scarf in the same manner.  

“We have two winds here each year,” Yan said to Susan. “Each lasts for six months.”

Susan laughed despite herself.   

We filmed late into the night that day, and treated ourselves to a good hot pot dinner, with a variety of green vegetables, mushroom and two large plates of thinly sliced beef.

We filmed two more days in Baicheng and Changchun and received warm reception and help from many locals. A number of incidents worked out so well that we couldn’t have planned better! Both Susan and Quyen were touched by the openness and friendliness of the people we met and filmed.

“This trip has changed my view on China,” Susan said. “I was dumb to believe in the biased opinions about China before.”

I was very happy about the result of our trip!

Yan, Wen and me play mahjong with Mother

I stayed with my mother for one more day after the departure of the crew. My mother loved playing mahjong and usually, there were not enough people to set up the game. That evening, my sisters and I played with her. She was as quick and sharp as ever before. I made her laugh throughout the evening by making faces and desperate gestures—I lost nearly all my chips to her.

It was an evening of fun and joy with family that I knew I would relish for a long time.

To prevent Mother from feeling sad about my departure, I promised her that I would visit her again before the end of the year.

I will.

Jian Ping, author of Mulberry Child: A Memoir of China. Visit www.moraquest.com, www.mulberrychild.com