Chapter 3 (1) <Revisiting Border Town>

I had never been to Taiwan before, but after the Pearl Harbor incident, I returned to Shanghai from Hong Kong. The Japanese ship I took was avoiding the bombing, and the route passed through southern Taiwan in a twisty way. There were two or three other passengers leaning on the side of the boat, and they all whispered to their friends to come and see, but they didn't know why they didn't dare to speak loudly. I stood there motionless, didn't dare to take a step away, afraid of missing it, knowing that I would never see a more beautiful scenery in this life... Eileen Chang / text

I'm going back to Hong Kong, and by the way I'm going to Taiwan to have a look.When I got off the plane in Taipei, no one I knew was ready to pick me up.I told Mr. Mai and Mrs. Mai not to come, because they happened to be busy this time.But it's also possible that they've sent someone else to pick them up, so I wasn't surprised to see a clearly dapper man in a dark suit come forward. "You're Mrs. Richard Nixon?" he said in English. I've seen a lot of pictures of Mrs. Nixon with the fair hair, pretty, and looking twenty or thirty years younger than her age.I never thought I looked like her, and this guy should always recognize a Chinese female compatriot, even with sunglasses on.But since a woman can never completely disbelieve a flattery, no matter how obviously untrue, I immediately remembered that Mrs. Nixon was thin, and I was unmistakably thin.Maybe he had put on a black wig for her, to avoid attention?

"No, sorry," I said. He nodded slightly, then turned around and searched among the crowd.He may be in his forties, of medium build, with a dark face, thick eyebrows and low forehead, oily skin, very ordinary and pleasing to the eye. I find it a bit strange that Mrs. Nixon is coming to Taiwan at this time, and she is alone.Former Vice President Nixon had just failed in the election for governor of California. He said angrily at a press conference: "You don't have Nixon from now on so you can kick around." Apparently, he also thought his political life was over.It is the time to hide your strength and bide your time, how can you let your wife come to Taiwan?Even if it's just a tour, avoid suspicion.No matter what was going on, there was always something wrong, and only such a Chinese operator from the embassy came to pick her up.

"Did you know that Mrs. Nixon is coming?" I asked the McGregors.They came after all. "Oh? I don't know. I didn't hear that." I told them the man had mistook me for her joke just now.Mr. Mai didn't smile. "Hmm." Then he said a little shyly, "There's this guy who's always picking up planes at the airport, picking up American celebrities. He's kind of crazy." I laughed, and was swept away by a wave of depression, the island's longing for the camaraderie of the outside world. As soon as you leave the airport, there is a big temple. There is a row of high white concrete steps in front of the main hall. A lady in her fifties and sixties is climbing up with great difficulty. Her feet are half-wrapped, she is wearing a bun, and she is wearing a bloated black cheongsam. back view.Isn't this the mother of my middle school classmate?

Mr. Mai was asking me, "How do you feel when you come back?" I smiled in amazement, and said, "Why are they still here? I think they are all gone!" Except for the feeling of going back in time, the temple almost reaches the airport , also increased the chaos of time and space.At that time, I didn't expect to burn incense and pray for the blessing of the Bodhisattva to see off the plane in case of a plane crash, just like a fishing village must have a Mazu temple in order to go fishing in the sea. I had never been to Taiwan before, but after the Pearl Harbor incident, I returned to Shanghai from Hong Kong. The Japanese ship I took was avoiding the bombing, and the route passed through southern Taiwan in a twisty way.It was a light and cloudy afternoon in early summer, the light emerald green peaks were reflected in the snow-white sky, and near the foot of the mountain was submerged in white mist.It looks like the green landscape of an ancient painting, but the paper is not yellowed.There were two or three other passengers leaning on the side of the boat, and they all whispered to their friends to come and see, but they didn't know why they didn't dare to speak loudly.I stood there motionless and didn't dare to take a step away, afraid of missing it, knowing that I would never see a more beautiful scenery in this life.Of course, there may be more beautiful ones, but in the eyes of Chinese people, they are not as good as they are—it doesn’t look so much like traditional Chinese painting.

The ship was not moving fast, and the mountain on the sea maintained its fixed posture. Did it last for a long time, or did it only last for a while? Watching, I don’t know whether to inject or pour out, as if drinking it all at once, but I am still drinking, still drinking, but I may find that I have an empty cup in my mouth all the time.In the end, I don't remember how it went away or disappeared. It was just that impression that I will never forget.When I came to Taiwan after all these years, I never even asked what kind of mountain it was.I'm not a climber and don't want to see the backside of it on land.It's still good.

"Taipei isn't beautiful, but it's very beautiful once you leave the city," Mr. Mai said in the car. There are arcades everywhere. Like Hong Kong, it is also a subtropical city that needs shade and shelter from the rain.The old bungalows and big trees on Roosevelt Road are also a bit like Hong Kong.There were groups of male and female students waiting for the bus, wearing uniforms that at first glance looked like Boy Scouts.I have only seen red brick sidewalks in Washington DC, and they are also dilapidated, with bricks often missing.However, the streets in Washington are too wide, and often the two-storey storefronts on the side of the road are too wretched and overwhelming, and the surrounding area is desolate, like a square without the atmosphere of a square, unlike the red brick roads in Taipei that have a sense of warmth.

Knowing my temper, the Mais and his wife didn't specially treat me to dinner, but only made some arrangements.To see a strange city, other than walking, it is all about walking around.It's best to go alone, but of course I can't walk alone if I don't know the direction. In the afternoon, Mrs. Mai drove Mr. Mai to work first, and then took me to the painter Xi Dejin.Mrs. Mai is an American. She threw her head lively and said angrily, "He's my favorite person." She yelled at the foot of the stairs at the gate, and Mr. Xi looked shirtless, put on his shirt a little embarrassedly, and then called us upstairs.Although the upstairs is stuffy, the layout is simple and elegant. I have the impression that there are many wooden walls painted in primary colors, which are the best backgrounds for hanging pictures.A hallway is a gallery.I looked at it for a while, but it was too hot, and Mrs. Mai left without sitting down. Mr. Xi sent her out and went shopping with me.

Having Shiy De-jin lead him around the streets and alleys is a rare blessing.He was silent, just like you are walking freely alone, but without the panic of getting lost.Drilling into the narrow alley full of clothes drying poles, the wet clothes were almost dry in the afternoon, and the corners of the clothes were occasionally cool, and there was no water dripping on the head.Looking through the golden iron window with coiled flowers, you can see the single bed, tables and chairs in the small room at a glance, and the light pink printed hanging pockets are not available in the United States.As if it wasn't close enough, a little girl stood on the window sill, clinging to the iron bars, watching us pass by without moving.Maybe it's because the house is newly built, and it's as crowded as an elevator, which seems to be also temporary.

Walking past a garden house, there is a fairly large open space surrounded by gray brick walls, and there are two big trees. "There's a storyteller here. It's not yet," he said. It must be an open-air bookstore, and the wicker chairs haven't been moved out yet.Compared with the bookstores in Shanghai, it is closer to Liu Jingting's original storytelling under the tree or in the teahouse.Without zongzi and Suzhou tea food, there is always tea to drink?It took such a big turmoil to get rid of these adherents──snacks: Under the bright lights, large gold-framed mirrors of the same size and position as the windows on the walls on both sides hang all the way to the back seat, not only reflecting the smiles on the stage , Even the audience can clearly see it.Probably for the sake of fashionable prostitutes and aunts and wives, Tingting got up and left just after the end of the first show. The whole audience was watching, both showing off and acting as an advertisement.

After passing a temple, go in and rejoice.This is probably the most homely temple in the world, with fluorescent lamps and calendars.Egg cups are offered on the incense table—a tall, small white porcelain cup for eating boiled eggs, presumably in place of a wine cup.The cushions are also cushioned with ruffles on the sofa, and there is no futon.There is a wooden sign on the wall with rows of names written on it. If you don't have time to look carefully, you don't know if it is the benefactor who donated money to build the temple. Among the gods enshrined is Shennong, who is half naked and has dark brown skin. He is obviously a resident of South China in ancient times and a distant ancestor of Southeast Asians.Shennong tasted all kinds of herbs. Originally, most of the herbs were produced in the south, and many of them were not available in the north.The inventor of herbal medicine should have been from South China. ──Is it the "King of Southern Medicine"? ──As for how the folks knew that the prehistoric South China people were so dark, it can only be attributed to racial memories, which are vast and confused.Looking at Shennong, who sat cross-legged with a long body and long body, who was so dark that his eyes could not be seen clearly, and Chi You's predecessor who was defeated by the Yellow Emperor, I couldn't help but feel a sense of mystery, almost fear. Hollow flowers made of plastic wires are inserted in the vase on the divine table.There is also a large vase of colored paper banners, which was only seen on incense buckets during the Mid-Autumn Festival in the past.It should be the influence of Taoism on Buddhist temples.A corner of the temple leaned against the timber used for the stage. The next temple is an ancient temple—of course not too old in Taipei.The gray roof tiles are pale and slightly purplish-blue, with subtle tones, which make them different from others.The god statue inside is surprisingly modern, with a big head and a ferocious face, a big pompom on the hat is slanted horizontally, and a Wusheng costume; the figure is extremely short, compressed from the perspective of looking down.The one sitting next to him had no lower body at all.The same hands are resting on the table, and the one whose lower limbs are omitted is a tall man with an elongated torso and long eyebrows that hang down to his cheeks.This is by no means a modern sculpture influenced by Post-Impressionism, but a cousin or ancestor of the Japanese prints that influenced Matisse.Japan absorbed Chinese culture, for example, a large part of Chinese characters were passed down from Fujian.If this characteristic of Fujian statues was lost later, it would be because the transportation became more convenient and they were submerged by the mainstream of the Central Plains. (Note) ※Note: Longshan Temple in Lukang has not been renovated, and it is still the original appearance of simplicity.In November 1982, Guanghua magazine had a color photo of its patron saint, with a ferocious scarlet face, his mouth curled up in disdain, and thick lips covering his entire chin.In the 251st issue of "Times Weekly" in December of the same year, there was a photo titled "Wait for me to rest", photographed by Shi An'an: two god generals who were lifted out of the parade leaned against the wall for a rest in the middle, one white and one black, one tall and one short.The one in a long white robe has long eyebrows covering a pair of dark skull eyes like a brush; it is a character-splayed eyebrow, and the one of the character-sighted eyebrows is turned downwards, hanging vertically on the cheeks, like sideburns.The short black one, with a shiny black face, curled his mouth and sneered, revealing a row of small white teeth, but two thin red lips were tightly pressed under the teeth——moved upside down and moved inconceivably.Partial distortion must be the unique style of southern Fujian statues.The outstanding development of local art is often not noticed by people. For example, in recent years, Nanguan went abroad and won the drama award of the French music circle. It is also because of the unprecedented changes in Chinese history that the mercury lamp of the times was turned on it. ※ In the lower large glass cabinet is another pale yellow magnetosaurus with a strangely long upper chin, which looks like an anteater. If it had a chin, it would be a crocodile, but without a chin, it just sticks out a tongue.It has wings on its back, and its body is as short as a four-legged snake.Creation of monsters seems to have never happened since Yin Zhou's bronze ware? There are so many questions, and there are experts on hand, why don't you ask them?It seems that someone said that you have to learn to ask questions.I couldn't turn my mind around for a while, but it looked a little strange, so I couldn't ask anything.I didn't even see the name of the temple clearly, and I didn't ask what temple it was.Many years later, I wrote this article based on my notes at the time. Mr. Shiy De-jin has passed away, and there is no place to ask.That day was like a sleepwalker, taking a nap and traveling to Taipei.Anyway, the temple won't be too far from Mr. Xi's residence, otherwise I wouldn't be able to walk. In the past two days, Mai’s family had a visitor staying at their house, and they reserved a room for me in a Japanese-style hotel on the mountain.To enter the house, you have to pass through a series of small courtyards, all of which are rockery and lotus ponds, and there is no one in the quiet.In the room, I only heard the drizzle hitting plantains at dusk, and the mineral spring flowing from the mouth of the stone lion in the bathroom, overflowing from the mouth of the square cement bathtub, and splashing on the ground.Rattan furniture is placed on the tatami in the room.The sheets on the bed hadn't been changed, and there were large pieces of yellow-white hard water stains.Obviously the general was unwilling to be left alone.If the last stay here was military.I told myself not to be too picky, and found a piece of clean soil at the top of my feet to curl up and sleep, but there were bedbugs.I still have to get up in the middle of the night and sleep on the floor of the alcove—a shallow rectangular hole in the wall of the Japanese-style living room, where the best paintings hang and the best vases are placed.The smooth wooden boards along the lower edge are very comfortable and not too cold.I slept until the sun was up, and the waitress came in to make the bed, but she couldn't find me, and I was shocked. Luckily only stayed one night.Mai Jia asked one of their children to take me to his hometown Hualien for sightseeing. It is also a famous city and there are Gaoshan people. As soon as you go to the countryside, the skin of Taiwan is half-rolled, revealing the older strata below.It seems that all the long-distance buses are from the province.An old woman was wearing a Mediterranean-style black cloth headscarf, a bulky clear coat, and a gray-white jade bracelet—Taiwan jade?My complex mood of returning home has turned into a pure tourist pleasure. The young man who was my guide pushed me with his elbow from time to time, and whispered hurriedly, "Mountains, mountains!" I only had a quick glance, and saw a thin gray female ghost with tattoos on her cheeks and a blue beard carved up high, with a child on her back, lingering in front of a shop by the road. "Mountain and mountain!" Gypsy-like children in battered T-shirts and Western-style skirts, holding smaller children. "They all come to town when there's a Japanese movie showing," he said. "Oh? They understand Japanese?" "Very well said." Many passengers on the bus speak Japanese.These are all early Chinese immigrants, and it is surprising how many of their young people can speak Japanese. The bus stopped suddenly, at a place where "Buba village in front and Buba shop in back".A burly young man jumped out of the car, and the palm of the car followed.Suddenly a fight broke out, and the two rolled on the ground.Under the blue sky, the crops beside the road are like pale white reed stalks and Qi Zhenzhen is about two feet high. "Qigaru! Qigaru! (Mistake!)" the young man shouted. The driver also went down and helped beat him. Probably the folk customs here are strong.They are also Chinese. In Hong Kong, I once saw a car driver follow a man who was riding a tram for nothing, and grabbed his suit and tie to replace the old braids, which were the first to be pulled when fighting.But that was just pushing, shoving, insulting and intimidating, not real use of force.This time I went to Hong Kong from Taiwan. A bus driver was arrested and sent to the police station because a woman accused him of beating her with a ticket punching machine. ──They have always rattled that heavy iron in the air to remind everyone to buy tickets. ──That was not a sparring.This point in Hong Kong is consistent with the mainland, at least the mainland before advocating "fighting". The Taiwanese driver and driver finally released the young man and returned to the car. "They said that this person never buys a ticket and always jumps here," my young friend translated to me from their Hokkien dialect. The young man who was beaten stood up and patted the dust off his body.His tawny shirt of American surplus was torn.The bus drove away, and he stood at attention as it passed him.He wouldn't have been a soldier during the Japanese occupation, he wasn't old enough, but that kind of strange respect can only be had in Japan. Most tourists just look at a church, which is a temple in China.The temples in Hualien are more family-style than those in Taipei. There is a bicycle leaning in front of the divine table, and there is a feather duster in the vase.Highly mounted relay radios blasted popular music.In the backyard, the red brick railings are built with I-shaped empty flower lattices, lining the banana leaves, and occasionally there are half a piece of green banana leaves in the shadow of the lights.Under the dim light in the kitchen at the back, a string of exquisite bamboo chains hung on the wall, used for steaming steamed buns.I can't imagine how to use it in a steamer, and I can't wait to take it back to a high-end fashion company to promote it and use it as a belt.If the pure cotton Swiss calico is as red as the rain with a touch of bamboo green, corresponding to the bamboo belt, it will be so new and gratifying! The dark red lacquer cups on the altar table of Hualien City God Temple resemble a pair of pork kidneys.White tile wall in the bathroom.The pillars and seat in front of the hall are also white tiles.A piece of faded lacquer carved wooden board stands in front of the sleeve table, but it looks like a fine piece of antiques.There is another pair of cement square pillars engraved with couplets in red letters.Suddenly, I looked up and saw half a cool moon in the dark sky—it turned out that I was already standing in a small courtyard.The buildings in southern China are so compact and winding, which is quite different from the square courtyards.The other courtyard under the moon can't help but remind people of the story of countless reunions in the nunnery.