Chapter 34 in Friborg

Friborg For Switzerland, I can really say that I have admired it for a long time.Since I was very young, I have seen many photos or drawings of Swiss landscapes.I was very surprised. The mountains and lakes there were so beautiful in color, blue and purple, so colorful and picturesque, just like a fairyland in Langyuan.I always suspect that these are all created by artists and their fantasies. It is impossible to have such unbelievable and beautiful natural scenery in the world. Today I actually came to Switzerland in person.When I first entered the country, I could only sit on the train and watch it from the window.Once again, I was amazed. What surprised me was that the beauty, magic, vagaries, and imagination of the Swiss natural scenery I saw with my own eyes far surpassed the photos or pictures I had seen before.The distant mountains are like daisy, and the snow on the top of the mountain is like silver. In the reflection of the lake, there is a cloud of purple air, which is set off against the thick green of the lake, forming a magical fairyland.I have learned languages ​​for half my life, spoken words for half my life, and read Chinese and Western classics for half my life.However, to this day, none of the languages ​​I learn, the words I speak, or the masterpieces I read can help me.I want to describe the beautiful scenery in front of me with my mouth, but I can't say it; I want to write the beautiful scenery in front of me with my pen, but I can't write it.In the end, as a last resort, I can only beg the spirit of the characters in the book, calling "Nai He" in vain.I now fully understand that this is not the creation of the artists, but their fantasy.Not only that, I can only say that their creations are far from enough, and their fantasies are far from enough.An ancient Chinese poem said: "The origin of the mood cannot be painted, and Mao Yanshou was killed in vain at that time." How can the mood of Swiss landscapes be expressed by ordinary artists in the world? Now I don't blame those artists at all.

When I left Göttingen, I was hungry and afraid. "Once bitten by a snake, I was afraid of well ropes for three years." This is exactly how I felt.I solemnly carried the few pieces of black bread I had saved with me, in case of emergencies on the road.However, although I stayed on the road for two days, the bread was useless.On the train in Switzerland, I feel that the historical mission of black bread has been completed, and Switzerland has become its "useless place", and it can no longer be used.I want to follow our "national law" (Chinese method), throw it out of the car window, and let the ants in Switzerland—I don’t know if they will eat this kind of thing?—Let’s have a meal! So I Looking at the green mountains and green waters outside the window, while looking down at the ground on both sides of the railway, I wanted to find a place with a bit of garbage and uncleanness, to find a home for my bread, but I was looking, looking, looking Ah, looking for it, from the border to Bern, the capital of Switzerland, I couldn't find even a place with a bit of garbage and a bit of paper.Very "disappointed" and very surprised, I got off the train with the piece of German brown bread in my hand.

At the station, my old friends Zhang Tianlin, Niu Xiyuan, their youngest son Zhang Wen, and some people from the embassy came to welcome us.We arrived at Zhangjia, rested for a while, and then reported to the Chinese Embassy in Switzerland.I met Dr. Wang Jiahong, the Political Counselor. He is an old man who studied in Germany, so the conversation was more harmonious and speculative.He sent us the relief money for October and talked about the domestic situation.He was probably the same as the Zhang in Göttingen, with a bit of blueness about him.It's none of our business, let's leave it alone.The Kuomintang government ordered the Swiss embassy to do everything possible to help the Chinese students who were trapped in Europe. Of course, its intention was like Sima Zhao's heart, and everyone knew it.We don't care about it, we are grateful.In order to save money, the embassy introduced us to live in a Catholic apartment in Fribourg, not far from Bern.We have no objection to this, anyway, if we can have a place to live, we are very satisfied.

In the evening, we drove to Friborg. The apartment we live in is called St. Justin Apartment. There are already several Chinese students living here, all of whom are old residents.One of them is a Catholic priest, and the other three are either Catholic or not.Several of them went to the station to meet us.Since then, I have been working as an apartment here for several months. Friborg is a very small city.The population is only tens of thousands, but there is a well-known Catholic University and a library with a rich collection of books. It can also be regarded as a cultural city.Switzerland is a mountain country, and Friborg is a mountain city in the mountain country.The terrain inside the city is relatively flat, but once you leave the city, there are cliffs in some places, some as high as tens of meters or higher.Between two cliffs tens to hundreds of meters apart, a chain bridge is often built, through which both cars and pedestrians can pass.When pedestrians walk, the bridge shakes, and when cars pass by, the whole bridge vibrates, causing the ground to shake.Looking down from the bridge is as dizzying as looking down from an airplane.

The vast majority of the inhabitants of this place are French-speaking.But I saw some old buildings in the countryside, and the carvings on the pillars or windows were German.I guess, this place was originally a German-speaking area, but for some unknown reason, the German-speaking people moved out and the French-speaking people moved in.Switzerland is a multi-ethnic country with three official languages: German, French and Italian.Most Swiss people are therefore able to speak several languages.And because Switzerland is the garden of the world and a popular tourist destination, English is also popular here.The old women who sell flowers on the streets of Bern in the capital can also speak several languages.None of this is new.

This multilingual, multiethnic phenomenon can also be seen in the apartment where I live.The owner of the apartment is the French-speaking Abbe Charier, and the management of the apartment is an Austrian priest who speaks German.The man was tall and had a great sense of humour.As soon as we met, he said: "When I was young and growing up, I accidentally forgot to stop growing, so I grew so tall!" In Catholicism, male priests have a lot of freedom. He can enjoy food and entertainment in the world, especially wine. Many Catholic monasteries in Europe can brew excellent wine.In contrast, there are quite a lot of restrictions on nuns, and there is a lot of freedom of movement.

Since it is an apartment run by the Catholic Church, some living habits in it are rather religious.The most prominent is the prayer before every meal.I'm not religious, but I have to eat.So every time before eating, the people who eat stand at the table, chanting words in their mouths.I don't know what they read, but I can only stand in silence.Fortunately, the time is very short. After the believers finish thanking God, I, a non-religious believer, can also gobble it up. The abbe Salieret, the proprietor of the flat, was probably quite mobile.Not long after I arrived, he was appointed Archbishop of the three provinces of Switzerland by the Vatican.For the sake of keeping the truth, I am now excerpting a few paragraphs from the diary I wrote at that time:

November 21, 1945 Go out after eating early.Because today is the inauguration day of the new bishop Charriere, I stood in front of the bishop's mansion for a long time and saw the bishops in red get on the car and leave one by one.I went to the department store and bought a small suitcase and came back.Talked with Feng and Huang. At 11 o'clock, we went out together to the city to watch the parade.It wasn't until 12 o'clock that I heard the sound of music in the distance, and soon I saw soldiers and policemen, followed by students, and I don't know how long they passed by.Then came the priests, the government officials, and the bishops of the provinces.Finally, the representative of the Pope, Bishop Sha, wore strange clothes, like the lamas in Beiping who wore colorful clothes and danced to catch ghosts.It was almost 1 o'clock before the ceremony was completed.

More than a month later, on December 25, 1945, I visited Archbishop Sha to preside over the High Mass for the first time.Here is an excerpt from my diary of that day: Bishop Sha presided over the High Mass for the first time today, and we arrived at St. Nicolas Cathedral, there are already many people inside.After a short pause, the ceremony began.A group of priests took Bishop Sha in, played music, sang, kowtowed, and all kinds of tricks.Later, Bishop Sha stepped down from the altar and preached to the believers in a small room like a big cage.After speaking, he went to the altar again.The high mass really started, still bowing, singing, kowtow, all kinds of tricks, until 11:30.

The above are my specific impressions and memories of Swiss Catholicism as a non-religionist.I have had no contact with Catholicism, either before or since.A priest named Tian, ​​who lives in the same apartment in St. Justin, had several long talks with me about religious belief and God, and it seemed that he wanted to "develop" me into religion.It's a pity that I am a layman without any religious cells, and it can be said that I don't have any religious needs, so I failed his kindness.After Liberation, I saw him in Beijing. He had already taken off his monk's attire for a secular one, married and started a business.We didn't talk any longer, didn't ask him what was going on, and didn't ask him.I just lament the dramatic changes in life.

I still have many memories in Friborg, the most prominent of which is the acquaintance of several German and Austrian scholars, all of whom spoke German.The first thing to mention is Professor Fritz Kern.He turned out to be a professor of history at a university in Germany—I remember the University of Bonn—with progressive thinking and opposition to the Nazis. He could no longer stay in the motherland and was forced to flee to Switzerland.But he couldn't find a university chair here, and Switzerland is a place where Mizhu earns a lot of money. His wife had no choice but to work as a nanny at the home of a rural priest near Fribourg.The priest had a very strange and bad temper. The villagers nicknamed him Tempate, which vividly explained his characteristics. When he lost his temper, he was like a storm.What it is like to be a nurse in such a master's house, you can understand when you think about it.However, in order to support the family, the professor's wife, who generally does not work in Germany, has to bow her head and swallow humiliation when she arrives in Switzerland under the eaves of others.The professor is over fifty years old, but he is energetic and forthright, fully showing the characteristics of the Germans.We met by chance, it can be said that we hit it off.For a period of time, the two of us met almost every day to jointly translate and read "The Doctrine of the Mean".He has an extremely large writing plan. He wants to write a "History of the World" with dozens of volumes, which will thoroughly discuss the history and culture of Chinese and Western countries from the perspective of comparative history and comparative culture.The study of Chinese classics also serves this huge project.His style of study often reminds me of those Universalgenie (multidisciplinary masters) in German history.I sometimes joked with him that he fantasized too much, but he laughed it off.He sometimes said that I was too Kritisch (strictly critical), but of course I didn't think it was disobedient.This shows the harmony of our relationship.He and his wife are very concerned about my life.I lived in Germany for ten years and had no money for a good coat.It was winter when I arrived in Switzerland, and I was still wearing the coat I bought in China eleven years ago, which was thin and tattered.They mockingly call it Mnatelchen (little coat).The professor's wife saw that my clothes were torn, and she mended them several times, and even knit a sweater for me.You will know what emotions all these have produced in my heart, a wanderer who has left his hometown and wandered in a foreign land for more than ten years.In the diary on November 20, 1945, there is the following passage: Prof． Kern (Professor Kern) advised me to stay anyway.I have only known him for a short time, but there has been a relationship between us that almost surpasses that of a teacher and a student, so I can't help but miss him.He didn't want me to go either.I'm just sentimental and of course there is pain.I don't know why God made me such a person? It can be seen that I have a deep relationship with them.The couple became people I will never forget.After I returned to my country, I passed several letters, and then I was "in the middle of nowhere."So far, every time I think of them, I feel excited, nostalgic, happy and painful at the same time. Secondly, I think of several Austrian scholars W.Schmidt and Koppers are all Catholic priests.Both were anthropologists, leaders of the so-called Vienna School.When the Second World War broke out, Austria was annexed by the German Nazis very early. In order to avoid the fierce flames, they fled to Switzerland and established a base in a small village called Froideville near Fribourg. There is a collection of books. Pretty rich library.Many important figures of this school also come here to gather, and at the same time receive foreign scholars to come here to do research work.I met Professor Kern for the first time on October 23, 1945, at a banquet given by Neuwirth, the director of St. Justin's apartment.The second meeting was two days later at this institute in Frois-de-Ville.I met Professor Cobbs both times, and Professor Schmidt and a Japanese scholar named Marsh the second time.Schmidt once taught at Fu Jen Catholic University in Beijing, China. He seems to be the leader of the Vienna School of Anthropology. He has written many books and has his own system for classifying human languages ​​in the world. He is well-known among scholars around the world.When I interacted with these people, what impressed me the most was that although they were priests, they were not "God-like", and they could hold an objective attitude when studying other religions.I thought they were scholars. Thanks to Professor Kern's introduction, I also got to know Sarasin, a Swiss banker and scholar.He is a billionaire, but he loves learning and is especially interested in Indology. Therefore, he has established a considerable Indology library and welcomes scholars to use his books.Probably for this reason, Professor Kern introduced me to visit him.He lives in Basel, not far from Fribourg.I hitchhiked around and arrived in Basel, where Professor Kern was waiting for me.We visited Sarrazan together and looked at his collection of books.In the garden of the world, it is quite rare to have such a field of Indology.He invited us to have tea and snacks.Then we left and went to the home of a pastor named Gelzer who had lived in China for many years, and he invited us to dinner.It was quite late when I left his house, and I rushed to the station. After inquiring, I found out that there was no direct train to Friborg at this time.I had no choice but to board a car casually.Anyway, Switzerland is a very small country, whichever train you take can reach your destination.However, I am new here and I am not familiar with Switzerland.After getting in the car, I couldn't distinguish north from south, east from east, and I was dizzy.It was dark outside the car window, and nothing could be seen.However, I know that those magical mountains, forests and lakes still exist, perhaps more beautiful than in the daytime, but people can't see it.The interior of the carriage was brightly lit, and there was endless laughter.I myself seem to have become Alice in Wonderland, not like being in a human world.It happened that there was a middle-aged German-speaking man sitting next to me. I didn't even have time to ask his name and nationality, so we started talking enthusiastically: with a few words, it seemed as if we had become friends.I did not know how to mention that the Abbe Salière of Fribourg had been made Archbishop of the three provinces.It felt like a corn on the foot of my new friend, who immediately became excited, called himself a Protestant, and hurled insults at Catholicism that shook the roof of the car.I don't believe in any religion, and I am an outsider to Catholicism and Protestantism.I can't comment.Seeing that I did not object, he was even more excited.The train finally stopped at Fribourg Station after traveling around Switzerland for most of the night.I don't know where my new friend is going.He must get off with me, go to a hotel, and insist on buying me a drink.I can't drink, but it's hard to give up the hospitality. After drinking a few glasses with him, I was already quite drunk, and somehow I returned to the room with my head in a daze, so I fell asleep with my head.When I woke up and opened my eyes, "the red sun is already three feet high", my friend disappeared to nowhere like a dragon with no head and no tail.I went back to the apartment of St. Justin, recalling the experience of the night, which seems to be nothing, seems real and false. Could it be that I had a dream?