阿里拿着修好的鞋， 到菜店里买土豆。 土豆挑好了， 放在菜店门口的鞋却不见了， 被一个收破烂的瞎眼老人拿走了。 阿里回家对妹妹说， 这事儿不能告诉爸妈， 否则咱俩都挨打。 阿里歉意地看着妹妹， 眼里含着泪水。 妹妹只有这一双鞋， 每天上学都穿着它。
妹妹只能穿阿里的鞋上学了， 一放学就拼命往家跑， 把鞋脱下来还给阿里。 阿里穿上鞋再跑着去他的学校。 两个孩子知道， 妈生着病， 家里还欠着房租甚至菜店的帐， 爸不可能有钱买新鞋， 所以每天只能这么瞒着大人， 疲于奔命地跑着。
妹妹在学校里看到了自己的鞋， 粉红色的， 咧着口打着补丁， 穿在一个小女孩的脚上。 妹妹跟踪小女孩到她的家， 然后拉着阿里去要鞋， 却发现小女孩的父亲是个盲人。 小女孩领着父亲， 到街上贩卖小商品为生。 兄妹俩什么也没说， 默默离开了。
《天堂的孩子》， 伊朗电影， 摄于德黑兰， 1998年曾获奥斯卡提名。 这几天， 我脑子里总是晃着小阿里的影子。 那种贫穷， 对我并不陌生。 阿里让我想起山里小镇上的那些孩子， 想起小学时的某个同学。
阿里的父亲在清真寺倒茶水赚取微薄收入。 他在家里为清真寺敲碎喝茶用的冰糖。 阿里的妹妹为父亲倒了一杯茶。 父亲要糖。 妹妹说你手里就有很多糖啊。 父亲说，人家信任我们， 这糖不能动。
那种善良和诚实， 已经在那片给过我贫穷记忆的土地上， 变得越来越稀有。 中国的父亲们如唐俊之流现今都财大气粗， 骗术了得。 不畏瞒天昧地， 还能理直气壮， 自鸣得意。 没有对天地神灵的敬畏， 精神的圣殿坍塌了， 哪里还会有天堂般的孩子？ 哪里还有安然无愧的心境？
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
My first Lesson in Democracy
Several years ago when J was in elementary school, he had this Pokemon fever and was obsessed with collecting Pokemon cards. Often after his school, I found myself driving him around the town to try to find a store that had Pokemon cards for sell. It was one of those afternoons when we were on our card-hunting trip, J, sitting in the back of the car, started to talk about a book he had just finished reading.
“They have such a perfect world.” J was apparently amazed by the book. He leaned over the front seat in his safety belt to make sure I heard his voice. “It is so perfect that life in the community is always pleasant and predictable because everything is carefully planned and organized. People look the same, act the same, live in the same way, and talk in precisely chosen language so that they do not have to worry about something like competitions, differences, or choices. There are no such things as pain, fear, grief, war, or hatred.”
The traffic noise sometimes drowned out one or two of his words. I concentrated on my driving and strained my ears to listen to him as well. A perfect world, I pondered, isn’t that the ideal we were all taught to crave when I was an elementary kid in China?
“The boy, who is the main character of this book, receives his assignment when he becomes twelve – Everyone in the community must be assigned a field of profession, you know, as everyone’s life is planned by the Committee of Elders. Marriages are also assigned. Each couple are allowed to have exactly two children, one boy, one girl. – The boy’s profession is Receiver of Memories. A Receiver has access to all the memories of the community. So the boy gets to know all the good things and bad things happened in the past.”
“What is the Committee of Elders?” I interrupted, looking straight ahead as the car rattled toward a busy intersection.
“The Committee of Elders is responsible for making all of the decisions. It is like their government. The elders make sure the community stays in harmony and peacefulness. People who are different from others, who break rules, would be released. In the community, “release” means death. The community doesn’t even have seasons, animals, colors, or music since those can bring emotions and disturbances.” J raised his voice a bit and passionately resumed his narration, “OK, so now that the boy has been selected to be Receiver. He has received memories of humanity, going way back. The memories are from before their community was established, back when there were bright colors, extreme cold weathers, and rays of warm sunshine. He then realizes he starts to have feelings, pleasure, love, loneliness. You know, feelings are not allowed in the community.”
“Oh mine. In a perfect world that has no grief, no hatred, there is of course no love, no pleasure.” I chimed in, “I haven’t realized that until right now.”
“The boy starts to have passion for people around him. But you know what?” J sounded extremely frustrated, “These people do not have the ability to love him back, because they do not have their own feelings!”
Years have passed by. J grows up and becomes more interested in facts than fictions. He is a little embarrassed whenever I mention his early Pokemon fever and card collecting enthusiasm. But what I haven’t mentioned to him is how, in that one ordinary afternoon, he enlightened me with this unique story and his chaste perception - A perfect society would have no room for individual liberties and personal developments. I have realized since then that how much I appreciate this beautifully imperfect thing called life, and how much I appericiate my life in this gorgeously flawed society.
“They have such a perfect world.” J was apparently amazed by the book. He leaned over the front seat in his safety belt to make sure I heard his voice. “It is so perfect that life in the community is always pleasant and predictable because everything is carefully planned and organized. People look the same, act the same, live in the same way, and talk in precisely chosen language so that they do not have to worry about something like competitions, differences, or choices. There are no such things as pain, fear, grief, war, or hatred.”
The traffic noise sometimes drowned out one or two of his words. I concentrated on my driving and strained my ears to listen to him as well. A perfect world, I pondered, isn’t that the ideal we were all taught to crave when I was an elementary kid in China?
“The boy, who is the main character of this book, receives his assignment when he becomes twelve – Everyone in the community must be assigned a field of profession, you know, as everyone’s life is planned by the Committee of Elders. Marriages are also assigned. Each couple are allowed to have exactly two children, one boy, one girl. – The boy’s profession is Receiver of Memories. A Receiver has access to all the memories of the community. So the boy gets to know all the good things and bad things happened in the past.”
“What is the Committee of Elders?” I interrupted, looking straight ahead as the car rattled toward a busy intersection.
“The Committee of Elders is responsible for making all of the decisions. It is like their government. The elders make sure the community stays in harmony and peacefulness. People who are different from others, who break rules, would be released. In the community, “release” means death. The community doesn’t even have seasons, animals, colors, or music since those can bring emotions and disturbances.” J raised his voice a bit and passionately resumed his narration, “OK, so now that the boy has been selected to be Receiver. He has received memories of humanity, going way back. The memories are from before their community was established, back when there were bright colors, extreme cold weathers, and rays of warm sunshine. He then realizes he starts to have feelings, pleasure, love, loneliness. You know, feelings are not allowed in the community.”
“Oh mine. In a perfect world that has no grief, no hatred, there is of course no love, no pleasure.” I chimed in, “I haven’t realized that until right now.”
“The boy starts to have passion for people around him. But you know what?” J sounded extremely frustrated, “These people do not have the ability to love him back, because they do not have their own feelings!”
Years have passed by. J grows up and becomes more interested in facts than fictions. He is a little embarrassed whenever I mention his early Pokemon fever and card collecting enthusiasm. But what I haven’t mentioned to him is how, in that one ordinary afternoon, he enlightened me with this unique story and his chaste perception - A perfect society would have no room for individual liberties and personal developments. I have realized since then that how much I appreciate this beautifully imperfect thing called life, and how much I appericiate my life in this gorgeously flawed society.
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