One dinner...

Lately I'm getting my teeth into a quite interesting book named’ No dog, not many Chinese', first edition published in 1998 by a Briton, in which it reveals the life towards foreign traders/officials during 1843 and 1943, the time most of the coastal cities in China have been served as treaty ports for international trade. It was really breathtaking to disclose how spoiled and superior those foreign invaders have been treated, the things they used, the food they ate, the place they stayed were a huge contrast against the Chinese residents' status over that period of time. However, their well-off condition didn't bring them anything more than health; problems occurred from inadequate sanitation, dietary excesses have meant nothing by an ever-lasting need for cemeteries.

I eager to show you one extract which was deemed to be the symbol of their extravagant life-style:

'Unfortunately, most of his patients:

begin dinner with a rich soup, and a glass of sherry; then they partake of one or two side dishes with champagne; then some beef, mutton, or fowls and bacon, with more champagne, or beer; then rice and curry and ham; afterwards game, then pudding, pastry, jelly, custard, or blancmange, and more champagne; then cheese and salad, and bread and butter, and a glass of port wine; then in many cases, oranges, figs, raisins and walnuts are eaten with two or three glasses of claret or some other wine; and this AWFUL repast is finished at last with a cup of strong coffee and cigars.'

Your eyes aren't lying to you, and it's not a weekly recipe, but in one meal... I was stunned in mute after reading this section, in no time my brain turned empty but swiftly got infused with the terrified pictures of massive Chinese victims who were severely suffering from famine and poverty. I believe you might have got the same images popped out of your mind as I do.

The Enchantment of Sign Language

The interest I nurtured on sign language is actually growing with the love of my hometown-Shanghai. In the past I hardly persuaded myself to love this "concrete Jungle", stuffed with all types of populations, unbearable noises, endless dizzy neon lights, and barbaric people till recently. Some very meaning measurements that Shanghai has taken impressed me a load.

As usual, I turn blind eye on the local TV programs except for daily news, but my mum is an absolute TV-goer, or what we say: couch potato, seemingly vegging out in front of the idiot box every day at home is her distinctive way for a pastime. She could recognize almost every domestic pop singer, film star or even paraphrase the scandals/rumors behind the scene, who then turns out to be my only information channel against latest fashion news taking place in Shanghai. I was introduced one entertainment program by her named "Great Man" competition, in which all the nominated good-looking boys, with nearly perfect figures and characters, came to compete against each other for this entitlement. Apparently, that certainly didn't catch my eyes except for one person, who was deaf-mute. All the communication between him and audiences through the whole competition counted on his sign language translator, to a handicapped, he must have spent twice as much as normal while he wants to achieve his target and outshine amongst the normal contestants. Albeit his failure in the finale, he's done his best to prove his excellence in his performance. The time he received a standing ovation and several curtain calls really touched me dearly. So did my mum.

I have no idea if sign language has merely become a fashion or the sympathy of each city dweller towards the handicapped has been arisen due to this program. To my amazement, since then, the increasing numbers of people have immersed themselves in learning sign language. I don't know if it's a bit overacted or something that we should have done ages ago, it is just a matter of time... Whatsoever, this considerable growth in sign language learning to certain extent has acted as a buffer to slow down the shrinking industry of sign-language translation. In addition, as Shanghai had a rehearsal on 2007 Disabled Olympics in the end of last year, the lack of voluntary sign-language translators appeared to be a big worry towards the local committee, which needed to be dissolved urgently before the game takes place this year. For them, it must be so marvelous to see that the positive effect and response towards this TV program as well as the constant celebrities' propaganda has put their heart at more ease than ever.

The whole city is on the run, I witness more and more people devote themselves to the charity activities, the awareness of the cares on the needy and disabled is soaring, to whom they like to give out as much as they could for help. Most of the media corps also switch their attention to how to raise funds for the poor, how to make use of the celebrities' influence to save orphans' life. of all what have been happening, the whole city is fully equipped itself in running a huge benevolent project to improve the overall living standard, due to which each of us seems to have certain responsibility to assume. I feel so excited and grateful to be one of them.

Considering my passable comprehension towards languages, along with my mum's big encouragement, I registered myself to study the basic sign-language in the approaching March, I dare not say how much I will contribute to my city, as well as the country, so long as I try my best, it would be enough to see my family do me proud.

Memorable childhood-Episode1 (好事多磨 Hao Shi Duo Mo) Good achievenment must go through many trials and tribulations

Opening up my wallet, a small rectangular black and white photo slipped down to the ground, on the back of which was hand-written three Chinese characters in vertical line: Jiu ge yue (third tune, fourth tune, fourth tune), means nine months. I picked up gently and had a close gaze at this little chubby 9 month old baby with a cheeky smile, hardly believe she's me... that might be the reason why I always keep it in my wallet just in case I forget how I look originally. Baby has to grow up, as part of the life process, which is surely unavoidable. However the childhood is always one of the most memorable parts in one's life just like an appetizer which adds a bit savors no matter if it's sweet or bitter to remark the beginning of a brand new start. My childhood was a bit more adventurous than normal, swinging between death and survival. It is really funny to say so, but at that moment, everyone was agonizing and suffocating for what it could have happened.

July 3rd, 1984, another scorching day as usual, my father needed to work from 8:00 to 17:00, 6 days a week, since my mum got pregnant in late 1983, she had spent all her time in my grand-parents' house in order to get intensive care and enough nutrition. In doing so, my grandma had set up a folding bed made out of steel wires in the sitting room for her, my mom's family was ranked as labour class in Mao's era, not rich at all, but they were allowed to have as many babies as they wanted; crammed with many family members, my mum was the second daughter among all, she's also got one elder sister, one baby sister, and two little brothers, which kept my grandparents busy all year long. As No.2, she however was the most hardworking daughter in the family. Tracing back to the early 70's, her elder sister was obliged to relocate herself to the far north of China, working in the farmland in accordance with Chinese Government policy during the Cultural Revolution, my mum at that time had to overtake the responsibility of looking after her whole family, notwithstanding bearing so much tough housework at home, she enjoyed at least the time of being with her family rather than following her elder sister's route.

I was luckily born on such a liberal date (independent day of U.S.), but sadly in a restricted country with little freedom at that period, my expected date of birth was in the end of June the time my mother was informed by the doctor, to everyone's surprise, no slight movement nor hum has ever come out of her womb; besides, this was the first time as well as the last time my mother got pregnant, lack of experience didn't really make her be aware of paying much attention to her stomach. Rather than being hospitalised, she had her whole time at home, having her mum as a company.

Until the seconds of July 3rd ticked away, my mom started to feel a spasm of discomfort coming across her womb, she quickly shaked up my father lying beside, yelling out at the same time. My dad, who swiftly escorted her to the No1 maternity and child care hospital in Jing An District, was perspiring on the whole way, and had no single idea how he could help, after all, that was also the first (and last) time for him to be a father. Everyone was forgivable at that night. 30 minutes later, since my mum was carried to the emergency room she has been staying there for the rest hours. She merely recalled that she was surrounded by a gang of people in white, busy in putting on the drips, preparing the needles, with all the clink-clank echoing around her ears. Unlike any other pregnant women, she could sense anything happened to her but pain. For the following 5 hours, she consumed most of her energy in delivery under the cadent oral instruction from the doctors: ' Yong Li (both fourth tunes; put forth your strength), Yong li, I have seen its head...'

While me and my mum were struggling inside, my father and the rest of my mum's family all of who were kept outside stayed up in anxiety. Time elapsed in an excruciatingly slow mode as if it was stagnant, even the tickering sound from the clock hung on the foyer's wall was considerably unbearable. No one dared to close their eyes in any second in case they missed the baby's first cry. They were all ears, waiting for the news slipped through the inside.

At 6:20a.m. July 4th, 1984, a memorable moment for the Wang family, a 3.7 kg baby girl was smoothly delivered. Different from other infants, I was deemed as the chubbiest baby of the month, unfortunately my mum only took one brief glance at me, and in no time I was carried into another room for first aid for the sake of the anoxia in my mum's womb.

Once my father and my mum's family received the critical illness notice from the doctor, all of them shed tears. Nothing could be done at this moment but just endless waiting. I was still in great danger in semi-consciousness. In addition to the shortage of oxygen, I was pressed a bit too hard by the doctors while being delivered, my head and body were also covered in bruises. On the other hand, my mum was suffering from starvation after using up all her strength during the delivery; she had nothing more than a spoonful of rice last night. My dad wiped away his tears, decided not to tell my mum what my condition was at that time so as for her to be out of worry at least temporarily.

Several days passed away, as my mum gradually recovered from the operation, with her usual rosy cheeks worn on her face, she felt a bit fishy why she couldn't be able to see her baby but the other patients in the same ward. She grabbed a nurse who was almost on her way out desperately longed for an answer. My father had pre-requested all the nurses that were in charge of my mum's ward not to tell my mum my current condition till I was out of danger. Thus, mum didn't really know everyone was telling white-lie to her for the whole time.

After three days, one nurse informed my father who was allowed to see me on the second floor where the incubator house was located. All the infants looked alike; my dad was too puzzled to seek me out, one nurse guided him to finally locate me, and she grinned, "this soprano is your daughter, because she's the one with big voice in the whole incubator. Congratulations!" My father gave an embarrassing smile back and embraced me with his two arms as if holding a meatball, he certainly had no clue how soft an infant would be. My mum missed me dearly, in the following day, after my father handed me to her, she was a bit amazed to see how big her masterpiece was, but delighted with pride to physically feel this love-token. Since then, a new life bumped onto the earth, with her two little fists tightly closed, was prone to fight her way through the years ahead.

Let's hook up with Yoga...

Once upon a time, I happened to watch a documentary which showed a man sitting on a mattress, having his legs crossed with his closing palms in front of the chest acting like a Buddha. He looked so relaxed, as well as amiable as though nothing could ever distract his attention at that moment. Suddenly, he conducted a gigantic frog-hopping with his crossing legs. Which kept amazing me was when he disclosed his age, I hardly believed my eyes and puzzled how he could stay so young and flexible even though he was already up to 50 years old... The secret to this was Yoga, in general, which is a spiritual practice or discipline that helps the individual unify his/her body, mind, and heart.

As more attention has been placed on citizens' health care, Shanghai, as an entrepot, already received latest news quicker than any other city, thus, Yoga, once coming to Shanghai, has made a big boom amongst the total population, at the beginning, due to its unbearably high price, only celebrities or the rich could have this privilege to try themselves. For the sake of rapid popularization, Yoga turns out to be one of the most prevailing exercises attached with a much more affordable price tag at present.

Me, as a member in a nearby fitness club, was entitled to access to any kinds of mechanical workout facilities, as well as various yoga classes. Thanks to the booming membership, undoubtedly this club has made a fortune, albeit creating severe traffic indoor. there is no single space for me to squeeze myself in. Well, rather than having this as an excuse, the true reason could be the lack of understanding towards yoga. Once I was totally in, I could never put my feet out of it. Each movement, each posture, each stretch, even each bend has added more enchantment to me. I have consulted those who have been staying with yoga long enough, they feel like discovering a "spiritual awakening", and eventually finding out that who they are, is not just their body, and not just the conversations in their mind. I was told that through steady practice, you will manifest less self-importance, less material attachment, more capacity for joy, less judgmentalness, and more tolerance toward others. How could I resist such an intelligent practice! Plus, I missed the prime time to have ballet lesson, my body is not as nimble as before which is a bit of shame! Besides yoga's all above advantages, it also realizes my incomplete dream. whenever I manage to stretch my hamstrings and ligaments although with a sense of sore, I enjoy every minute just like the time I was having my ballet lesson 18 years ago. But Yoga is beyond hamstrings, as far as I know. To see is to believe, have a shot then!

Mao's Last Dancer--Two Thumbs Up!!

Just finished reading one book called Mao's Last Dancer, recommended by so many of my friends, I hardly believe how inspiring the story is about this dancer till I finally got the chance to stick my nose in it over the passing week.

Li Cunxin, a Chinese peasant boy, born in a really shabby and poor Li commune in Qingdao, Shandong Province, knowing nothing about Ballet but just his determination of change buried in deep of his heart, he was selected to go to Madame Mao's Ballet Academy in Beijing when he was only 11 years old. Since then, this "Ugly Duckling" has completely changed his life. Better physical environment didn't really bring him too much joyful memory, nor fortune under the control of the communism, he was still a peasant boy except withno physical love from his parents afar.he was alone, agonising, however, never lost his faith in his determined heart, more importantly, he didn't want to be the frog in the well for the rest of his life, but to let his parents do his proud... He worked as hard as he could, practicing pirouettes, Pas de deox, pas de chat as much as he could, he never allowed himself to have excuse of rest, no matter how harsh the weather was, how painful his back felt, he kept spining on his toes which was destinied to be the only way to draw himself closer to his desire.

When he was selected to go to America Houston Ballet Academy as an exchange student by Ben Stevenson, his valued this chance dearly but he was stunned and felt being trapped once he saw the so called filthy, poor, nusty capitalistic land developing so well with friendly & civilized residents, advanced infrastructure, which was totally opposite to what Chinese communists said about this country. The most important thing he has noticed in these landers' eyes was freedom, which he never ever had in China. His decision of staying in US has finally turned out to be the criticism of him being a defector. Chinese Consul aggressive interrogation, failure of marriage, emotional trauma didn't shake his determination, however what deeply saddened him was the cut-off from his parents. Till 1988, he was eventually allowed to go back to his hometown to reunite with his family...

Mao's Last Dancer is a great hit, not only is it an auto-biography of Li, but it's more of a story to inspire the readers. Once you pick up this book, your heart beat will be in line with the rhythm of the author, being sad while he was suffering, being haunted while he was struggling, being angry while he was denounced by the Chinese government. With the flow of the story, you never want to put it away, that's how it held me up till 3:00a.m. and I absolutely enjoyed every second of it...

Is it real or am i dreaming?

Jan 6th, 2007, a clear weather with crisp air, I got completely perplexed with the missed call shown on my mobile in the midday, I almost dropped my jaw with hundreds of puzzles coming out of my mind once I pressed into the phone book, the missed call was from my passing bf Ben... I rubbed my eyes again and again just in case I misread the mobile phone number revealed on the screen. I was not in the wrong this time. Even though my eye didn't lie to me, I couldn't figure out how that could happen...

If I remember clearly, his Chinese SIM card has left in UK one year ago. As he didn't apply global roaming that time, there would be no way that sb could call me through his SIM card. My heart was bumping with a gust of coldness creeping immediately up to my back spine. I took a deep breath, trying not to think anything spooky, actually i didn't really feel bad about this, but just had no clue of how to respond to this case... I asked my mum to pinch my arm hard, I knew I wasn't in any dreams, was he really calling me from the ninth heaven? Under the communism system, we were being nurtured to believe in science only... But I believe certain type of natural force does exist, which guides you to the road you will walk through sooner or later. There is also something called fate which is deemed to be out of human's control.

This astounding call was definitely caught my attention for the rest of my day, I gripped my cell phone as though I was tightly holding a stack of cash while walking in the crowds. I even had a certain time flashing back to last year, which made me feel excrusiatingly heart-twisted. I wished to receive his call dearly, but if it happened to be a dream, then don't wake me up...

My New Cork board with postcards

After experiencing several humid days with heavy cloud, blue sky and bright sunshine has its veil takn off, which sent a slice of warmth to the earth. Such a beautiful day can't be wasted by just keeping myself at home, though I'm always told that clear sky indicates a nippy day, I put on as many clothes as I could to keep myself warm before I left home.

Once I started to walk around, coldness has seemingly slipped away from my side, taking a deep breath, crispy air was filled with my lung. I made up my mind to head for IKEA to check out if they've got the cork board that I was lately searching for.

After wandering off around for a while in the mart, my heart almost sunk as if I was totally buried in the massive crowds. thousands of people came and went in a really slow mode, and paused several times which created severe traffic congestion. I had no idea how to get through it, but merely managed to keep myself afloat.

Queque, queue, queue... no matter where you went, walking up to the check-out, there was always a ridiculously long line behind, many times you could see several queue-jumpers massing around which got rise to an even worse situation. Sigh... the huge amount of population is already an unavoidable burden of this city, so is the residents' civilization.

Anyway, I have bought nothing in IKEA but a piece of cork board with the price of 39rmb (4.8USD). I have been thinking of buying sth to better display my postcards rather than getting them covered in dust. Eventually all my half-day effort wasn't in vain, now this cool cork board is placed behind my bed that serves as a display case for all my postcards.

The meaning of life...

Looking up to the sky, dreaming of the bright future ahead of me... the most crucial element of all has surprisingly lied beside me, regardless of what and how I will do in any aspects: 信(Xin, fourth tone), which can be translated as integrity, faith, sincerity, trust. Doesn't this Chinese character summarise the factors of success in life, study and work, as well as the virtue of being a real good person?!