I was born in China in 1921, in a city called Chongqing on the upper reaches of the Yangtze River. What about my birth?Hmm, it seems to be going well.Because I've never heard any complaints about it.At that time, except for a French doctor who came from the lower reaches of the Yangtze River, there were no specialized doctors in the city.With the help of the nuns, it was Dr. Weihong who made me come to the world.The characteristic of these nuns is that they never act alone, they are always in pairs in every nursing procedure.At that time, young mothers spent three weeks in bed.These three weeks were a paradise. It is said that all the European and Chinese staff of the consulate brought gifts to little Mary every day.

My mother was supposed to be 19 at the time, she didn't have milk and couldn't nurse me by herself.Dr. Weihong had no choice but to invite a young Chinese mother to be my wet nurse.So I am a Chinese woman with big tits.I keep a picture from my wet nurse Anna.My mother always felt guilty for not being able to feed me herself. Father and his mother have a particularly strong mother-child bond.My grandmother Maria died in 1926.My father used to love her very much, so he brought her to Chongqing to live together, even though it was not easy for the newly married couple.I also love Maria even though she died when I was 5 years old.I still remember her image: always smiling.One day, I was so stuffed, she told me that my stomach would explode, so she tied my stomach with a thin rope...

I was born in the same bed as another French child, Lucien Bordard.Our mothers gave birth in the embassy respectively.I had wanted very much to meet Bodar, but I couldn't.After all, he kept the secret about Chongqing, and I kept my memory.I have read some of his books, especially his memoirs.I think he came back to France when he was 9 and I stayed in China until I was 16.Became his admirer because I wanted to tell everything he said. Two years ago, I went to Chongqing again.There was a strong urge to return to the old places, to find my birthplace to which I never returned.Strangely enough, the desire to rediscover the consulate where I was born, the source of my life, seemed a bit paranoid for my usual personality.Despite all the twists and turns, this trip to Chongqing was extraordinary for me.During the organization of the trip, I had the good fortune to meet a young French female guide who later became friends with a lovely Chinese guide.

I brought a postcard about the French Consulate in Chongqing from my birth time, from which I could recognize a large European-style building sitting on a hillside, surrounded by green trees and scattered houses.However, today's Chongqing has become a big city with a population of several million!After reading the postcard I brought with me, the Chinese tour guide thought that the French consulate was a place by the river that he knew.When we got there at almost 10 o'clock, the two tour guides began to ask the local residents if they knew the former French embassy.Some people, like we always meet in China, waved their arms and gave us very vague directions.As a detailed reference, I also brought a photo of myself when I was 1 year old.In the photo, my grandmother Maria is supporting me, and the table where I put me is placed on a row of small steps.We continued to wander around, and it was already dark in the middle of the night.Suddenly, I stopped in front of a building and shouted: "This is my steps, this is my steps." This is exactly the ridge of the stone steps in the photo!On the lower stone of this beautiful building, I saw this inscription in lime: "French Consulate".Stone steps lead directly to the house, and the large garden is replaced by a path.We saw a faint light in the house, so we knocked on the door to try.A man opened the door and explained to us that what used to be a warehouse is now a flour packing workshop.The man kindly let us in despite the late hour.

There is still a tinge of doubt.I'm not sure, I'm trying to figure it out, is it really here? …Until the inscription carved on the stone was found on the courtyard wall inside the house: "In 1919, Paul Dumer, Governor of Indochina, commanded the construction of the French Consulate here".This is exactly the consulate where I was born, shocking!Both my guide and I were thrilled.In addition, the scene at that time was late at night, and we carried small lanterns for lighting, which added an adventurous flavor to all this.It is a miracle to find the inscription on this stone with a deep foot and a shallow foot.Seventy years later, it was heart-warming to find the consulate where I was born and left when I was 2 years old.This stay in Chongqing has become one of the deepest memories in my life.It seems like Proust said that reminiscing about the past...

In 1923, we came to Hainan Island in southern China. The capital of Hainan at that time was Haikou, which was close to Guangzhou.My two younger brothers were born here.The consulate is beautiful and I still remember the coconut trees as we were constantly dodging the falling coconuts.There are some scorpions there that used to fill the garden.There are also pirates, who have left terrifying rumors in the local area.Once, the pirates were going to the monastery.When the great nun saw these people disembarking, she closed the door of the convent and stood in the doorway with her arms folded.They told the pirates they couldn't get through... Anyway, they didn't go in anyway!

I have very vivid memories of the Saint-Vincent Orphanage run by the nuns.They adopted all the baby girls who were thrown in the gutter, because of poverty people had to keep only boys.I remember that the orphanage was run by three great nuns, wearing unusually baggy skirts and pointed conical hats that hadn't changed since the days of St. Vincent.They walked up and down, always with the baby in their arms.These tasks keep them busy.In my memory, there is still a faint smell from the nursery, mixed with urine and milk, because they really didn't have time to change each baby's diaper in time.

When these little girls grew up, they became the objects of desire of young men.Because of their good education and their work in embroidery workshops run by nuns, these little girls received many marriage proposals.The nuns have a hand in these marriages.They play the role of mothers, ask the local people about the suitors, and decide the choice of the girls.They can't let the daughters they raised with one hand easily sell. I still remember a bearded priest Juliot in Haikou, as well as Doctor Esseldo and Father Leodai.Father Leoday was an active member of the community, always singing at the top of his voice "Sailor, sail, sailor, sail, ship on the waves..." In my young eyes, all these people, priests, doctors, They are all very old.But in fact they are only 30 to 35 years old.There were also some Brits and some Americans there.There is a Mr. Bertero of Eurasian descent.His father is French and his mother is Chinese.He had seven children, and my parents were their godparents and godmothers.In this way, in our Chinese life, we can always meet one of the seven little Berteros.No matter in Shanghai, Hankou or Guangdong... there is always a Bertero there.

This is a lively and colorful consulate life.There were not many Europeans, we got together a lot, and the food rivaled the best in France at the time.My mother was a little girl who had never cooked, and she armed herself with a cookbook in French.Our Chinese chef, Ah Fa, can make the best western food according to my mother's instructions.So we ate delicious Western and Chinese food prepared by a Chinese chef (who was dismissive of French food). Although we were the only European children, we were not lonely at all.My two little brothers and I, have all kinds of balls and bikes.China has become our big playing field.Parents never let us feel the worries and problems they have.We used to go swimming on a small island off the coast.To get there, you first have to take a boat for a while.To climb to the boat we had to climb a rickety rope ladder from the water.It was hard for the nuns in their big gowns and fat petticoats.

While wandering the field, we were intimidated by the little mounds that were actually graves.I remember later, we also hid behind those mounds to pee.Apart from Shanghai, there are no schools for European children in other places, and it is parents who have taken on the responsibility of educating us.Like other European children, we were raised by a Chinese grandmother and taught grammar and literature by a French priest. After Chongqing and Haikou, we arrived in Guangzhou.These times were particularly turbulent, with the Kuomintang in power and revolutions everywhere... In 1925, I was 6 years old, and from then on I understood what it meant to have a father who was a consul.

For us, having a father who represents France is a very serious matter.With the French flag flying on the roof of the consulate, the idea of ​​loving and respecting one's own country is very strong in my heart.I consider my own parents to be patriots too.My mother lost six of her nine brothers in World War I, and because of their devotion, my maternal grandfather was exempted from military service when he was drafted into the army.So, in 1916, he was able to go to Indochina as an engineer to build a railway. In 1919, my maternal grandparents returned to France with their two daughters, and they happened to be on the same ship as my father who was returning home for vacation.We spent January together on the boat, and I remember they told me the name of the boat: "Paul Lega".Father and mother met for the first time, and on the boat, they confirmed their union for life. The political situation in Guangzhou was very tense.The Chinese insurgents surrounded the French Concession and we couldn't get out.A Frenchman trying to get out was shot and killed.People from the consulate dug trenches to store food.French warships docked on the Pearl River brought us food supplies.No Chinese is allowed to work in European embassies or consulates.With so few hands, we had to maintain the day-to-day work ourselves.Our chef Ah Fa is an exception.As a Chinese, he was ordered to leave, but he crept back along the Pearl River.His parents greeted him with surprise.He was with us from 1923 to 1945 and returned to France with us on vacation.His real family is us. In the first uprising in Guangzhou, the concession was broken, and we clashed with the rebels.I was 5 years old at the time and vividly remember a frantic run across the consulate's large gardens.It was so that we three children could hide in the vault of the bank next door.My father is always dressed neatly when he goes out (ready to encounter accidents at any time), and he joked that his head has been marked with a price, which is no more expensive than a calf's head! Later, I went back to France for vacation.During my vacation, I underwent appendix surgery. In order to praise my bravery, the doctor specially invited the then big singer Lulu for me. After returning from vacation in France, we headed to another new city: Hankou.Before going to Hankou, we went back to Haikou.At that time, warlords and gangsters who fought in war tried every means to transport arms and medicinal materials from the concession... During a trip from Chongqing to Tianjin, my mother naively accepted a package that she was asked to carry.When disembarking, British customs found that the bag was full of opium.This sparked a diplomatic incident between Britain and France.The newspaper headline read: "French Consul's Wife Smuggles Opium"!The matter was settled by my father's protest.But you can imagine the dramatic effect. From 1933 to 1935 we lived in Shanghai, where I completed my primary school studies. In 2001, I happily returned to the old place.While the school no longer exists, the exterior of the building remains unchanged.I found the Shanghai French Concession to be almost the same as it was back then: a real town within a city.French artists, troupes and musicians come here to create performances.The French Concession had all the grandeur of the thirties... The consulate had been torn down, but I found the eight-story building (one of the tallest at the time) where it once lived - 525 Rue Pétain.The building has been surrounded by new buildings and streets. I was over 12 at the time, and with girlfriends my age, we socialized like adults.There are always "big parties", special chefs, organized dances... lots of kids parties.Unfortunately, I didn't make any Chinese friends.My father, on the contrary, knew many Chinese and could communicate with them freely.Our environment is relatively closed.In the French school in Shanghai, there are only Europeans, Russians and a few mixed Chinese. From 1936 to 1937, I reached my last stop in China: Hong Kong.Hong Kong, very british (note: British), very beautiful... Then I went back to France.On the transoceanic ship Felix Rousseau, I met Maurice Decombra.He pretended to court me just to please everyone.I still have his signature.Because of my parents, I was able to meet many famous people of the time. There are third-class cabins on board, and we are from the consulate, so we are treated as first-class cabins.One can imagine how we are always in a state of being watched.On the boat, I change clothes several times a day.In the morning we went down to the deck in our baggy satin underwear.Until noon we change into culottes or short tracksuits for an afternoon game of badminton or cricket.At dinner, the men wear tuxedos and the women change into evening dresses.In that era, people in the upper class always wanted to show off their charm... What a splendid childhood I had!Even though we had quite a few servants, my parents insisted that I make my own bed and room every day.Thanks to them, I have truly received a full aristocratic education.Through them, I also learned what an unbreakable partnership is.My relationship with my parents was great, and a lot of my childhood happiness came from a father who was open-minded, funny and versatile.He played the violin, the piano, wrote poems, drew pictures...with love for all.Look, this is my father, a kind and honest man.My mother is much younger than my father. When they first met on the boat, my father was 32 and my mother was only 18.The first was my grandmother's fascination with this young man who cared so much for her. We often talked about China with my mother, and it really became a part of our lives.It seems that we have two personalities, one in France and one in China... It must be said that life in the diplomatic circle was not leisure not only for men, but also for women and children.Consul's wife has very important representative work: dinner, tea party, opening ceremony, communication with missionaries and businessmen... When playing these roles, mother pays great attention to showing France's etiquette and style in soft diplomatic occasions such as reception banquets and festivals .Sometimes, she would get very tired after playing mahjong with the ladies all afternoon, but it was a part of life that had to be dealt with.Life is still full of hardships, and parents are always worried that they have not done their duty for the country.The passing of French warships from Shanghai or Hong Kong has also become a reason for holding receptions, and even the passing of planes has to be celebrated.Because it was an era that worshiped long-distance flying, and the voyage from France to Japan became a classic representative.These gave me the opportunity to meet such famous pilots as Max Hertz and Andrea Gabi in Hong Kong, and even made a trip from Hong Kong to Shanghai with Duohe and his mechanics.We are very proud that France has had the honor of being a pioneer in this field.From the newspapers at the time we can read that it took Gabi 39 hours to travel from Paris to Tokyo (where he crashed shortly thereafter)!It was an era where people were amazed everywhere. Unfortunately, it is not easy for us now, and we don’t look for this kind of amazement anymore.Now that you can go to the moon at will, everything is so much easier... It is my luck to see all this change in eighty-two years!this is life. The Chinese people I meet often ask me if I am half-Chinese, and this question delights me.There is a strange phenomenon that can be seen at a glance: my brother Zavi, who was born in Chongqing like me, Lucien Bordard, the missionaries I met...these people have wrinkled and narrowed eyelids, just like my own .Maybe it's the different lighting in China that makes us all lower our eyebrows? …Young Chinese are now having their eyelids surgically cut open (this is what I saw on a French TV show).It seems that the world is being unified, and I don't know what it will look like in a hundred years. When I returned to Paris in 1937, I didn't know it was decisive.We were supposed to go back to China in 1939, but seeing the serious political situation, my father went back alone.War broke out (Note: World War II), and because there were too many submarines under the sea, the families of diplomats were forbidden to leave France.My mother, brother and I stayed in France throughout the war, while my father stayed alone in Harbin.Because of the system changes in Manchuria, he had nothing to do, and stayed alone in the consulate until the end of his life. There have been questions about his death.Some people say that he was poisoned to death by the Japanese.The one who said this was Father Shaleyer, an Orthodox priest. In 1948, this priest was kidnapped in Manchuria and appeared again in 1955.The incident made headlines in French newspapers.My mother saw him shortly after, and Father Shaleyer thought it prudent to say that my father had died of a heart attack.He once witnessed his father's sudden collapse in amazement.Was the father poisoned slowly over a long period of time?It's always been a mystery... After the war, my mother tried her best to get my father's remains back to France, but to no avail.We buried his uniform and command sword.Mr. Kottak, who had participated in the revolution and was originally from Russia, told us that my father had lost thirty-two boxes of property.There is not much left of our father, except the things and letters he sent during his lifetime... The letters sat in boxes in the attic for thirty or forty years.I have only rediscovered these letters due to the request of the head of the household to restore the attic room.This spiritual wealth made me both shocked and painful.The mother put it on the shelf and never wanted to publish it to the world, it must be because she didn't want to go back to the pain of losing a loved one.And I, who live on spirits and rich memories, want to organize them.Especially from the point of view of personal memory, a young French consul went there at a critical stage in Chinese history, and he proved his career as a diplomat until his death.His career and spiritual journey lie before our eyes.This is truly extraordinary.Yes, his testimony is historically and personally important, because the father was always a man of integrity. mary le hogan