Bianlian

Last night’s bianlian show (face changing) at the year end party scared me, really. Our table was so close to the stage that I could see the actor's face clearly: inscrutable and eerie; his black mantle was intimidating. It ignited my sense of insecurity. I never panic when I watch thrillers, but how can I still be frightened by such a scene when I knew it was FAKE?

Summer's tail

The azure and breeze betoken the approach of autumn. The sun at high noon is warm and cozy. It dispels all the Monday blues.

Summer is receding. If I had a magic axe, I would cut its tail cos I'd had enough of it. But it's a pity the axe only exists in the tale.

I love autumn so much, a season of blue sky, red maples and yellow foliage, a season tinged with melancholy and pathos.

Lost in translation

Thanks to translators, people speaking different languages can share cultural works from all over the world. Unfortunately, there is no such thing as absolute equivalence in translation. Something is lost when east meets west.

Personally I don’t like reading the Chinese version of books written in western languages, especially fictions. Just look at the names: they are so confusing and sometimes like a tongue twister! Not every name is as short as Harry Potter; we still have Aphrodite and Achilles. To translate, Aphrodite takes five Chinese charters, one of which unknown to me. So I gave up and began to learn English.

Translation of movies can be more amusing. When the dubbed version of award winning TV series Desperate Housewives was first broadcast on CCTV, it ignited heated discussion. The dubbing itself had become a comedy. Speaking Chinese with an American accent is not art, but parody. Therefore I never watch dubbed films, though my knowledge of French barely extends beyond “bonjour” and “au revoir”, nor do I know a single German word.

As for fine arts, it’s a unique language without national boundaries. Painting is a feast for the eyes and music a gala for the ears. Any attempt of interpretation may become profanity.

Dog days

Dog days in the year of the dog has begun. It's unbearably loooooong and harsh in China. How to survive the wicked summer is a question that bothers me every year.

My tips: stay in the office with cool air-conditioner and concentrate on your job. It's not a good time to take a holiday unless you're going to the southern hemisphere. Just a glance at the scorching sun may kill all my guts to go out.

Looking forward to autumn. When summer comes, can autumn be far away?

Middle of the year

Rain is so rare in Beijing that I can even remember what I was doing and which umbrella I was holding on those days. The scene after the rain is refreshing: the fragrance in the air, the touch of the raindrops on the leaves, composing a misty landscape painting.

Rainstorms begin to frequent the city in early summer. However heavy the rain is, what follows is always a brilliant sunny day. Half of the year has gone by.

Times passes as quietly as water in a brook.

Gao Kao

June 7 and 8 are two holy days for Chinese high school graduates as this is the time when Gaokao, or college entrance exam is held.

It’s really incredible that an exam can become a sensation in such a big country and the whole society is making a fuss about it. A plausible explanation is that it is too important to be neglected. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for the students to be recruited to universities and change their future.

I have sympathy on Chinese students. From kindergarten, they were forced by their parents to learn all kinds of extracurricular skills, regardless of their interest or gift. Then they will experience over ten years of hard work, which is only a preparation for the Last Judgement.

In spite of all their efforts, they are not in a fair play game. Students in provincial capitals seem to have more priority and their way to success isn’t so strenuous as those in small towns. Some with special talents, or various certificates, or being ethnic minorities, or whose parent is somebody…, are all privileged.

Hope some day every test-taker can be judged more fairly and this exam will not be the front page story.

Soul of a city

Having been back at home for a couple of days, I find myself being somewhat unaccustomed to the old way of life. My hometown, a small tranquil coastal city with fresh air and mild climate, remain unchanged. Then what’s wrong? Something indescribable is missing.

It’s the soul of a city. One thing I like about Beijing is its diversity. From various newspapers, TV programs, to miscellaneous exhibitions and performances, no one would ignore the charm of this metropolis. Many people may have an ambivalent attitude toward Beijing. No matter how much they hate the sandstorm, the forever-grey sky, the terrible traffic… they still like it because they’ve far been used to the life inside it.

To fully explore a city, one must live in it and interact with its people. Rushing from one place to another on a tour bus is hardly enough to scratch the surface.

Cinema-phobia

The conventional way of watching a movie is going to the cinema, but it's not the case in China where pirated DVDs go rampant, to which the incredibly high price of movie tickets may be a contributor.

I love movies, but I don't go to the cinema. The price is one factor; and moreover, I seem to be cinema phobic. I believe modern cinemas are audience friendly, but once the movie begins, everything is different. The surrounding is as dark as pitch, the images on the screen are as huge as giants and the sound effect is intimidating. Under such circumstances, even a comedy can turn into a thriller.

I guess these odd thoughts originate from my childhood experience. I remember once being scared by the bloody scenes in a martial art movie when I was a kid. It was a nightmare! But what I didn't expect is that thriller became one of my favorite genres years later. I never tried in the cinema, which remains strange to me.

Hot wind

Looking around, sexy girls in chic clothes are everywhere, dazzling my eyes. I like watching people in the street or in the subway, just as Amelie does in the cinema.

I'm still drowsy; probably it's the side effect of working on a rotating shift. Standing there waiting for the train, I felt like an icecream melting in the heat. As it gets hot, I also turn sluggish, like a hibernating animal.

I even forgot to write something on mother's day.

For kids, everyday is children's day, but for moms, perhaps only mother's day is their holiday. The saddest thing of being a daughter or son is seeing your parents getting old. When you return home after being away for years pursuing your study, career, or whatever, you suddenly find your parents' hair turn grey, back hunched... And what's worse, you can do nothing but to accept this.