廣州的木棉花

文/Cong Cong ZHU（澳大利亞籍）

我出生長(zhǎng)大在澳大利亞悉尼，祖籍廣州，現(xiàn)在是華南理工大學(xué)管理科學(xué)與工程研究生。

雖然來(lái)過(guò)廣州許多次，但我依舊對(duì)這座城市情有獨(dú)鐘，盼望著可以在我父母的故鄉(xiāng)體驗(yàn)生活。我非常驕傲能夠成為一名華工的學(xué)子，感激被推薦獲得廣東省政府來(lái)粵留學(xué)生獎(jiǎng)學(xué)金。從盼望成為現(xiàn)實(shí)，給我機(jī)會(huì)能夠欣賞到這里獨(dú)有的風(fēng)景和故事。

寫(xiě)這篇文章時(shí)，我來(lái)廣州讀書(shū)剛好半年。

還沒(méi)來(lái)到中國(guó)之前，我的中國(guó)故事早已開(kāi)始了

我是聽(tīng)著媽媽兒時(shí)回憶的睡前故事長(zhǎng)大的。她是今天人們所說(shuō)的老廣州人，住在城市的邊界，界線的另一邊是鄉(xiāng)村，田里散布著稀疏的果樹(shù)。那時(shí)的門(mén)不用鎖，因?yàn)楹馨踩Ｋ梢钥吹今R車(chē)、聽(tīng)到有節(jié)奏的馬蹄聲踏在鋪滿沙子的路面上，帶著鄉(xiāng)村氣息進(jìn)城。那時(shí)候，時(shí)間似乎很慢，簡(jiǎn)單而快樂(lè)的日子就感覺(jué)長(zhǎng)了。聽(tīng)她說(shuō)，她每一天都在玩耍中度過(guò)，放風(fēng)箏、釣田雞、跳皮筋、跳房子，他們過(guò)得無(wú)憂無(wú)慮。有時(shí)候，我也會(huì)在腦海里描繪自己在一片田園自由地奔跑，遠(yuǎn)離喧囂的城市。在18歲——具有獨(dú)特意義的年齡，她下鄉(xiāng)成為“知青”。每天黎明醒來(lái)都是美麗的風(fēng)景：有時(shí)，空中彌漫著薄霧和銀光；有時(shí)，天空如同她兩根小辮子，編織著少女般的粉紅和沙黃色。當(dāng)太陽(yáng)初升時(shí)，每日穿過(guò)微風(fēng)感受濕氣親吻她的皮膚，一天的工作又開(kāi)始了。她的工作每季都輪換：采茶炒茶、犁耕、種花生、挖紅薯、摘菠蘿和荔枝。她還是司磅員，稱牛糞和木頭。我媽媽曾經(jīng)用這些木頭做過(guò)一張桌子和一把椅子，現(xiàn)在還在。每個(gè)星期有一天休息，她和伙伴們會(huì)去爬山或者到工業(yè)區(qū)去吃些美味。夜晚，只有當(dāng)她點(diǎn)著燃煤油燈時(shí)，才有屬于自己的時(shí)間。她想念父母，渴望回家。她把那里的日子描述得如此簡(jiǎn)單和平凡，但所有的汗水和辛勤，只有她知道。

長(zhǎng)大后，每天上班騎著自行車(chē)穿過(guò)人民橋，隨著煙囪的蒸汽進(jìn)入巷子，聞到她最喜歡的牛腩面的味道。在那些日子里，她很忙，但她能夠把她的愛(ài)好和職業(yè)結(jié)合起來(lái)。

I was born and grew up in Sydney, Australia. My parents are from Guangzhou, China. Currently studying a research degree in Management Science and Engineering at South China University of Technology (SCUT).

While I’ve been here in Guangzhou many times, I still have indescribably special feelings for this city, and desire to live and experience my parent’s hometown. I’m proud to be a student from SCUT, and thankful to be recommended as a successful recipient of the Guangdong Provincial Government Outstanding Foreign Student Scholarship. From hope to reality, I’ve been given the opportunity to appreciate the scenery and stories here.

At the time of writing this article, it’s been half a year since I came to in Guangzhou.

My Chinese story began before I had arrived in China

I grew up listening to bedtime stories of my mum’s childhood memories. She is what they call “l(fā)ao Guangzhou people” today. She lived on the periphery of the city, and over the boundary was the countryside, where the field was sparsely scattered with fruit trees.Doors never have to be locked then because it was safe. She would see carriages and horses clip-clopping rhythmically on the sanded pavement carrying a sense of country ambience into the city. Time seemed slower in the past, simple yet happy days were longer.Through her words, her childhood was romp and fun- kite flying,fishing field frogs, hopscotch, jumping elastics were her daily. They were carefree from the anxiety of piled schoolwork unlike what kids today face. I have moments of thought that paints a scenery of myself in an idyllic meadow, away from the impetuous city.

Eighteen, at an age that had a special meaning, she went down to the countryside to become a zhiqing. She woke up every dawn to the beauty of landscape; some days, the air was misty silver, some days, the sky was like her two plaits, braided with blushing pinks and sanded yellows. She started the day’s work when the sun ascended over the mountains and walked through the delicate breeze that kissed her skin with moisture. Her work rotated from season to season; harvesting to pan frying tea leaves, ploughing fields, growing peanuts, digging for sweet potatoes, picking pineapples and lychees. She also logged weigh cow dung and tree logs. My mum has once used the logs to make a wooden table and chair that is still here now. The one day off each week, she and her pals would roam on mountains or go out to the industrial district for some good food.Night, was the time she had for herself, only if she decided to lit the kerosene lamp. She thought of her parents and longed for home. She made the time there sound so simple and ordinary, but all the sweat and hard work, only she would know.

作者走在廣州的老街道

我渴望她的年代，那時(shí)只有馬車(chē)、自行車(chē)和郵件。時(shí)間過(guò)得慢。29年前，我媽媽獨(dú)自離開(kāi)家到異國(guó)他鄉(xiāng)，記憶里只受到一群海鷗的歡迎。她深深地品味著故鄉(xiāng)的每一段記憶，幾乎想再經(jīng)歷一次。

我聽(tīng)著她的鄉(xiāng)愁，試著去感受她對(duì)這個(gè)地方的向往，尤其是對(duì)某些人，但這種感覺(jué)是不可替代的。

人們總是問(wèn)我媽媽為什么每年都回中國(guó)

不像我這一代的大多數(shù)人，我陪伴外公外婆的機(jī)會(huì)很少，尤其是和外婆。但許多睡前故事讓這些回憶似乎重生。

在夏日花朵的芬芳中，外婆會(huì)經(jīng)常在我媽媽和她兄妹小的時(shí)候帶他們?nèi)ネ?。常去高大街吃餛飩面，新豐冰室吃紅豆冰，更少不了兒童公園和三元宮。而外公會(huì)帶他們?nèi)ピ叫愎珗@劃船。

出生在20世紀(jì)20年代的外公外婆，都認(rèn)為夫妻關(guān)系是建立在平等努力的基礎(chǔ)上，性別并不決定誰(shuí)在家里做什么。我外婆不是傳統(tǒng)、刻板的家庭主婦，她認(rèn)為女性需要獨(dú)立，因此，她在家庭和工作之間都兼顧。她無(wú)私地、不知疲倦地生活著，以確保她的三個(gè)孩子在那個(gè)時(shí)代擁有他們所需要和想要的一切。我的外公是一個(gè)先進(jìn)和開(kāi)明的人，他對(duì)三個(gè)孩子的愛(ài)是不分性別的。我媽媽記得每個(gè)星期六，外公會(huì)給他們每個(gè)人五分錢(qián)的零花錢(qián)。他們通常用兩分買(mǎi)一根冰棍，用三分買(mǎi)六個(gè)欖角——這種味道只屬于他們的童年。

When she grew up, she would bike daily over Renmin Bridge into the alley in the morning before work, to the sight of steam pluming through chimney and the smell of beef brisket noodles, her favourite breakfast. Those days, she was busy, but she was able to combine her hobby with her occupation.

I desire her era, when it was just carriage, bicycle and mail. It was when time felt slower.

Twenty nine years ago, my Mum left her hometown to a foreign land all alone, she was welcomed by none but a flock of seagulls.She savours each memory of her hometown so deeply that it will almost live once more.

I hear her nostalgia, I try to feel the yearning she has for the place,especially, of particular people, but this feeling is irreplaceable.

People used to ask my mum all the time why she returns to China every year

Unlike most people of my generation, I didn’t have the chance to spend much time with my grandparents, especially with my grandma. But many bedtime stories made it felt alive.

Amid the fragrance of summer blooms, when the sun decided to rest later, my grandma would often take my mum and her siblings out when they were little kids. Their regular stops were Gaoda Street to eat wonton noodles, Xinfeng icehouse to eat red bean ice,Children’s Park and Three Yuan Palace. And my grandpa would take them to Yuexiu Park to row boats.

Both believed that relationships are built on equal effort, and that gender does not decide who does what in the household. My grandma was not the traditional and stereotypical housewife. She believed that women needed to be independent, thus, she juggled between family and work. She lived selflessly and tirelessly to ensure her three children had everything they would possibly need and want in that era. My grandpa was a forward and openminded man. He loved his three children regardless of gender.My mum remembered that every Saturday, Grandpa would give five fen pocket money to each of them. They usually bought an ice block with two fen and six canarium pimela with three fen, a taste that belonged to their childhood.

My grandma always welcomed me with the most gentle and warm smile that no other people got. I enjoyed going into her room because it was different with mysteriously dark, classic vintage look and an earthy smell. She would sit on her wooden bedside and make me sit on the more comfortable armchair opposite to her,but I would always squeeze beside her. Even under the dim light, I could see her face endured by weather, her hands rough and wrinkled, but I love her every crease, because it is part of who she is. It is the face of someone who has lived, experienced and loved. We are like friends, she would tell me many things, such as Chinese history, but one thing she told me the most was to express filial to my parents. This was all that I could faintly reminisce of her more than nine years ago.

外婆總是用別人沒(méi)有的溫柔和溫暖的微笑歡迎我。我喜歡走進(jìn)她的房間，因?yàn)樗c眾不同——神秘的黑暗，復(fù)古的風(fēng)格，帶有泥土的味道。她會(huì)坐在木床邊，而讓我坐在對(duì)面那張更舒服的扶手椅上，但我總會(huì)擠到她的身邊。即使在昏暗的燈光下，我也能看到她過(guò)度操勞的臉龐，粗糙起皺的雙手，但我愛(ài)她的每一條皺紋，因?yàn)檫@是屬于她的一部分。這是一個(gè)生活過(guò)、經(jīng)歷過(guò)、愛(ài)過(guò)的人。我們就像朋友，她會(huì)跟我說(shuō)很多事，如中國(guó)歷史。有一件事她經(jīng)常跟我說(shuō)，要對(duì)父母有孝心。這是我對(duì)她一個(gè)重要的回憶。

人們總是問(wèn)我媽媽為什么每年都回中國(guó)。他們常常開(kāi)玩笑說(shuō)她在航空公司工作。陪伴是珍貴的，因?yàn)橛行┨澢窡o(wú)法彌補(bǔ)，而這些遺憾將會(huì)藏在心里。

如果時(shí)間慢一點(diǎn)，如果外婆還在。

外公房間里的空氣潮濕還帶有一點(diǎn)霉味。每次打開(kāi)前門(mén)，看到他彎彎地靠坐在椅子上，戴著眼鏡，一手拿著放大鏡，一手拿著報(bào)紙。所有這些都擺放在我媽媽幾十年前做的木桌上。“你嚟咗?。ɑ浾Z(yǔ)：你來(lái)啦），小朱女？”外公見(jiàn)到我時(shí)常說(shuō)的一句，瞇瞇笑著跟我打招呼。

96歲的他，不管刮風(fēng)下雨，每天早晨五點(diǎn)半起床去飲茶。他自己做飯、買(mǎi)菜、洗衣服、在公園散步，他相信這是保持強(qiáng)壯和健康的方法。許多家庭羨慕我們，因?yàn)橥夤偸菫樗⒆又?，但我們和他在一起的時(shí)間總是不夠的。

這是2019年的第一個(gè)星期六，在多日的陰霾之后，黎明的太陽(yáng)透過(guò)朦朧的云層。我從來(lái)沒(méi)有對(duì)太陽(yáng)如此地感激過(guò)，因?yàn)樗笳髦行碌囊惶欤蛘呦胂腙?yáng)光是如何給予我溫暖，讓我對(duì)新的一天充滿著期待。在我參加第一學(xué)期最后的研討會(huì)之前，我和媽媽去看了外公。早晨，廣州的街道上依然空空如也，但有我們沉重的腳步聲。我站在外公的身邊，許久沒(méi)有仔細(xì)地觀察過(guò)他：皮膚留下歲月的痕跡、頭發(fā)是銀灰色。當(dāng)我握住他的手時(shí)，他睜開(kāi)疲憊的眼睛，搖了幾次頭。那一刻靜止了。我控制我的眼淚，不想讓媽媽看到，所以我轉(zhuǎn)身離開(kāi)去往學(xué)校。那天仿佛又是一個(gè)平常的日子；坐了地鐵，去了學(xué)校，做了演講，但臉上沒(méi)有平時(shí)的笑容。幾年前，外公告訴我們，當(dāng)有一天生命即將結(jié)束的時(shí)候，他會(huì)讓我們知道，而那搖頭就是他道別的方式。盡管生老病死都是自然規(guī)律，但去面對(duì)現(xiàn)實(shí)卻是一種難以言喻的情感。

People use to ask my mum all the time why she returns to China every year. They use to joke with my mum that she works for the airlines. Because companion is precious and she didn’t want to leave regrets until they are irreparable, or these regrets can only be locked within the heart.

If time was slower, if Grandma was still here.

The air in Grandpa’s room is damp with a tinge of mildew. Every time I open the front door, I see he sits back hunched with glasses on, on one hand he holds a magnifying glass and the other holding the newspaper. All this was rested upon the wooden table my mum made decades ago. “You are here, xiao Zhu nü (小朱女) ? ” as he usually says when I visit him, and greets me with a chuckle.

At the age of ninety six, regardless of wind or rain, he would wake up at five thirty every morning to go to yum cha. He cooks for himself, buys groceries, wash clothing and walks in the park. He believed that this was the way to stay strong and healthy. Many families envy us having such person as a father and grandfather.Grandpa always thought about his children, but the time we spend with him was not enough.

It was the first Saturday of the year 2019, after days of gloominess,has the dawn sun decided to peek through the hazy screen of clouds. Never have I felt so thankful of the sun, because it epitomised a new day in life, or to think of how the light warms me,and gives me anticipation for the day. Before I attended my final weekly morning seminar of my first semester here, I went with my mum to see Grandpa. The morning streets of Guangzhou was still fairly empty, but not the sound of our heavy footsteps. I was by his side while he laid, I haven’t looked at him so closely in a while. His hair was river-silver and skin was timeworn. When I held his hand in mine, he opened his fatigued eyes and shook his head several times. That moment stood still. My tears were to fall but I didn’t want my mum to see, and so, I turned and left for uni. That day seemed as if it was another ordinary day. I took the metro, I did my presentation but the usual smile was not there. A few years ago,grandpa told us, when one day life was near the end, he would let us know, and that head shake was his way to say goodbye. While birth, senility, illness, death is a natural law, as much prepared as we were, to witness it is indescribably emotional.

Dusk in winter is greeted by early moonlight. It came to the time of reflection for the day, and when the stars bid farewell, a new day is welcomed by the ray of sunlight.

深冬的黃昏是由早出的月光迎接，來(lái)到了一天沉思的時(shí)間。當(dāng)星星告別的時(shí)候，新的一天被一縷陽(yáng)光歡迎。

媽媽第一次帶我來(lái)中國(guó)是在我三個(gè)月大的時(shí)候

雖然每年都來(lái)廣州，但花了一段時(shí)間才記起這個(gè)地方。幸運(yùn)的是，16年前我在這里留下了一段短暫而難忘的童年記憶，希望有一天可以和我的孩子們分享。九月的到來(lái)，清晨的街道被饅頭和豆?jié){的味道喚醒，父母帶著緊張又好奇的孩子去開(kāi)學(xué)，我就是其中之一。我上的是一所私立學(xué)校，離我家最近的恰好在一個(gè)城中村。這是一個(gè)我從未見(jiàn)過(guò)的地方：街道很窄，彎彎曲曲，電線像蜘蛛網(wǎng)一樣懸著，兩輛車(chē)勉強(qiáng)從相反的方向通過(guò)；一座座樓之間的距離不超過(guò)半米，兩邊的底層是小商鋪，上層是住宅。那里很擁擠，因此鍛煉了許多開(kāi)車(chē)高手，摩托車(chē)、三輪車(chē)和自行車(chē)會(huì)在汽車(chē)之間穿梭。很快，空氣就像水一樣在這個(gè)壓縮的空間里打旋，我們別無(wú)選擇，只能把它呼吸。

我有三個(gè)同桌——兩個(gè)男孩兒和一個(gè)女孩兒，這個(gè)女孩兒每天都梳著兩個(gè)丸子盤(pán)在發(fā)網(wǎng)里。我們常常一起玩，一起吃飯。我的腦海中有關(guān)于他們的一個(gè)模糊的畫(huà)面就是他們微笑的樣子，這是我永遠(yuǎn)不會(huì)忘記的。有時(shí)我會(huì)想起他們，想知道他們現(xiàn)在在哪里、做什么。

我二年級(jí)的班主任劉老師是一位溫柔、有耐心的老師。我仍然記得她給我們布置了很多抄寫(xiě)漢字的家庭作業(yè)，但我仍然喜歡她，如果不是她，我今天就不會(huì)有堅(jiān)實(shí)的中文基礎(chǔ)。晚上9點(diǎn)，當(dāng)我盡了最大的努力后，媽媽會(huì)讓我睡覺(jué)，并模仿抄寫(xiě)我歪歪斜斜的字。我的記憶力不算好，但至今有一件事不明白，為什么我還能逐字逐句地記住我們閱讀的第一篇語(yǔ)文課文。我想這就是所謂的情懷吧。

最快樂(lè)的時(shí)光總是下午下課的時(shí)候，街上熙熙攘攘，熱鬧非凡。孩子們會(huì)擠在小吃攤周?chē)恍〕越o誘惑。這些都是我零散而不完整的記憶，就像一本故事書(shū)缺失了幾頁(yè)。

我的記憶慢慢地消逝，如同時(shí)間。如果我回去，或許某些片刻會(huì)點(diǎn)亮起來(lái)。

16年后，我回來(lái)追尋這些回憶

當(dāng)時(shí)才7點(diǎn)鐘，但在黑暗的天幕下，街道幾乎陷入了意想不到的寂靜之中。我意識(shí)到是春運(yùn)，大多數(shù)來(lái)廣州打工的外地人都回到家鄉(xiāng)與家人團(tuán)聚。離開(kāi)家并不容易，它意味著離開(kāi)熟悉和你所愛(ài)的人，去迎接即將面臨的未知。我看到了和媽媽的相似之處，但從今年開(kāi)始不一樣了。琥珀色的街燈為我引路。

The first time my mum brought me to China was when I was three months old

While Mum brings me to Guangzhou every year, it took time before I could remember this place. Luckily, I left a short yet unforgettable memory of my childhood here sixteen years ago, and that one day, I could share with my children. September has come,the early morning streets woke to the smell of steaming buns and soymilk, parents taking some nervous and curious children to the beginning of a new school year, and I was one of them. I had to attend a private school, and the closest one happened to be in an urban village. It’s a place that I’ve never seen before. The streets were very narrow and curvy, electric wires dangled like cobwebs and was barely enough for two cars to pass in opposite directions.Block of buildings were no more than half a metre apart. The ground floor of both sides was stores, and the upper levels were stacked with small dwellings. It was crowded; motorbikes, tricycles and bikes would weave between cars, hence, trained many good drivers. Soon, the air could be seen to swirl and eddy like water around this compacted space, and we had no choice but to breathe it in.

I had three desk mates- two boys and a girl. The girl always had double buns fixed in a hair net. We use to play together and eat together. There’s a vague image of them in mind that I won’t forget,it was the way they smiled. Sometimes I think of them and wonder what they are doing, and where they are.

My year two class adviser, Ms Liu, was a gentle and patient lady who taught us Chinese. I still remember how much Chinese characters she assigned us to copy for homework, but I still like her, if it was not her, I would not have the solid foundation today. I tried my best, but nine o’clock at night, Mum would tell me to go to bed and she would finish copying the characters for me but made sure that it was a little messy to imitate mine. My memory isn’t good,but one thing I don’t get is why I could still remember the first Chinese text of our reading book word for word. I suppose this could only be explained by feelings.

The happiest time were afternoons when the streets were bustling with noise and joy that class was over for the day. The kids would crowd around the snack vendors all tempted for a treat. These were the scattered and incomplete memories I had, like missing pages of a story book.

Time gradually dissolves itself, and so is my memories. If I return,some moments might alight.

Sixteen years later, I return to chase these memories

It was only seven o’clock, but the streets have almost rested in unexpected silence under the canopy of darkness. I realised it was Chunyun, when most migrant workers have left Guangzhou to go back to their hometowns to reunite with their parents, kids and family. Leaving home is not easy- it means to leave the familiarity and your beloved ones for the looming unknown. I see similarities of my mum, but from this year, things have changed. The glow of amber streetlights lit the way for me.

The streets must have seen so many transitions. My favourite steamed rice rolls store was not there anymore, motorbikes were replaced with village buses and the market is rebuilding. But the school still looked the same, and the two school buses parked in the same spots as it did sixteen years ago. Time felt slower, the pace was slower, and slowly, I lucidly recall some of the past.

When holiday came, my mum decided to take me to retrace the bedtime stories she once told. She was once a regular visitor of these lanes and alleys, but now, only a by-passer of this city. But nevertheless, she wanted me to open up new knowledge of this city, and to create memories that belong to myself. Almost every street and lane here have a beautiful legend and story behind it.We rowed a boat in Yuexiu Park, we ate wonton noodles at Gaoda Street, and prayed at Three Yuan Palace, but all this was different.

I’ve never been so firm to make a choice to come to this place I’ve longed for. I’ve only been here half a year, but this place has already given me memories and experiences－from comfort to challenges,adaptation, separation, happiness and tears. I am thankful. I’m here,in the hometown of my closest and beloved ones.

While we continued strolling through the streets, the wind blew countless kapok flowers on the ground, they came for every child,and now, they come as childhood memories.

這條街一定看到過(guò)許多的變化。我最喜歡的腸粉店不在那里了、摩托車(chē)被村里的巴士取代，而市場(chǎng)正在重建。但學(xué)?？雌饋?lái)還像16年前一樣，兩輛校車(chē)停在同樣的地方。時(shí)間感覺(jué)慢了，腳步也慢了，慢慢地，我清晰地回憶起一些往事。

假期時(shí)，媽媽決定帶我去重走她曾經(jīng)講過(guò)的睡前故事。她曾經(jīng)是這些小巷的?？停F(xiàn)在，只是這座城市的一個(gè)過(guò)客。但無(wú)論如何，她想讓我對(duì)這座城市有新的認(rèn)識(shí)，創(chuàng)造屬于我自己的記憶。這里幾乎每條街道和小巷的背后都有一個(gè)美麗的傳說(shuō)和故事。我們?nèi)サ皆叫愎珗@劃船，走到高大街吃餛飩面，在三元宮祈福，但這一切都不一樣了。

我從未如此堅(jiān)定地選擇來(lái)到這個(gè)渴望已久的地方。我來(lái)這里才半年，但這個(gè)地方已經(jīng)給了我很多回憶和經(jīng)歷——舒適、挑戰(zhàn)、適應(yīng)、分離、快樂(lè)、眼淚，我很感恩。我在這里，就是我至親至愛(ài)的人的家。

當(dāng)我們繼續(xù)在街上散步時(shí)，風(fēng)把無(wú)數(shù)的木棉花吹到地上，它們?cè)?jīng)為每一個(gè)孩子而落下，現(xiàn)在，它們作為童年的回憶而來(lái)。