Since I have started auditing the
Chinese Church History course this Spring semester, every Monday when I left the two and a half hour class, I left with a heavy heart, I would find myself arriving home without knowing how I got there, which is quite scary. Not that Dr. Cook did not do a good job explaining the subject, quite to the contrary, he is doing such a good job that the history comes alive, everything suddenly means so much to me, and THAT is what is weighing on me. The past 200 years of Chinese history was nothing but a vast display of chaos and hopelessness. I can't help but ask where is China going in the future with this much baggage on her back?
I came to partial realization of my identity as a Chinese on
June 4th, 1989, when the tanks rolled into Tienanmen Square, I found myself weeping uncontrollably in front of the TV. I remember my mom looking at me with a strange expression on her face, then she said, "It's OK, the tanks are not in Hong Kong." I was there for every single protest rally and memorial service, until I got married and left Hong Kong in 1996. (There were rumors that some secret service people video-recorded those rallies to see who were in there, so I am not worried that this exposure will cause my name to be listed on a certain blacklist, because if they indeed did that, they already know who I am. If this rumor is just a rumor, then, oh well, as Forrest Gump said, "stupid is as stupid does.")
Growing up in Hong Kong, I never felt oppressed as someone living in a colony. The British has brought countless good things into Hong Kong, an excellent law system, sound civil education,
laissez faire policy, and using English as the official language has no doubt helped Hong Kong advanced to the status of a major international city. One thing that was never stressed in the classroom though, and understandably so, was that we were Chinese. We were taught that we were 'citizens of Hong Kong'. This made perfect sense since those of us who were born in Hong Kong held
British passports with a big old UK seal right in the middle. Inside, where it said 'Nationality', it was printed 'British'.
At the time when I was born, China had just gone through the
Great Leap Forward, where millions and millions of people died of starvation. There was virtually no news coming out from China, except 'rumors' of people dying. Not only did we not know what was going on in China, it did not seem like we cared, even though one of my father's older sisters, whom refused to flee to Hong Kong in 1949, was still in China. It was not until at least 10 years after her death that we learned that she was sent to a labour camp in
Xinjiang. With her being the daughter of a wealthy landlord, I will not be surprised if she was put into the catagory of 'extreme rightist', which guaranteed her life and the lives that were connected to her (her husband's and two sons') extraordinary difficult, however, starvation took her life first. I need to find out more about her life from her two sons, whom eventually fled China by swimming to Hong Kong for days in the South China Sea, fighting off sharks. They are now in their 50s, living comfortably in Hong Kong.
My father often told us that the communists took EVERYTHING away from them. My paternal grandfather was a landlord and a businessman, he was an extremely wealthy man with seven wives, the seventh one being my grandmother. He owned blocks and blocks of prime real estates in Guangzhou, my father still remembers the huge house they lived in. My maternal grandfather was a chic entrepreneur, he owned a construction company in Shanghai, extravagant business luncheons and parties were everyday events for him. (Later while in Hong Kong, he disapproved of my father pursuing my mother, saying, "The tip I give to waiters in a meal is more than what that guy (my father) made in a month!" My mother verifies that it was true. My father at that time worked in my grandfather's construction company. Don't you think it should have prompted my grandfather to consider paying his employees better?
When the communists took over in 1949, both grandfathers lost all that they had. My paternal grandmother fled to Hong Kong on foot with seven kids in tow and with practically no money. At that time, my paternal grandfather had already past away. My father remembers the hardships they had to endure when they struggled just to stay alive after arriving in Hong Kong. My maternal grandfather was able to go to Hong Kong with some money and opened up a construction company again in a much smaller scale. My mother was born in Hong Kong into this relatively well to do family. So she has less things to say about the communist. However, she did go to a
Kuomintang school, so she got some 'education' as to who the communists were also.
When China finally opened up, my father was the first one in his family to go visit. The reason being most of my uncles were in the Royal Police Force, and my oldest uncle was actually in the political section of the police force, namely, they kept the communists' activities in check! They were afraid to go back, I guess the memories of the how everything was seized from them was still fresh in their minds. My parents, my younger brother and I boarded a big ship in Hong Kong, overnight we arrived in a port in Guangzhou, that was August of 1980. In the warm summer morning mist, we stood on the deck overlooking China, it was the first time (except my father) that we saw China. The first words my father said were, "This place has not changed in 30 years!" As I look at the land, I was thinking, 'This is my root. But how can it be? How can it look so different from Hong Kong!"
Did not think too much about that trip after we went back to Hong Kong, I only remembered how inexpensive everything was, how dull their clothing colours were, and how lack of smile everyone was. Though there were 'Friendship Stores' everywhere, people who worked there were hardly 'friendly'. I was not interested in knowing my 'roots', not interested in learning about China at that time. Afterall, my life in Hong Kong was great, there was no need to go back to my roots and explore them. We have a new life in Hong Kong, we are a new generation. I did not consider China as my mother-land until that earth-shaking event in 1989. It was impressed upon my heart from the images on TV that those people in Tienanmen Square and I are both Chinese.
The Chinese Church History class has moved into the time period when my grandparents were adults living in China, and my father was already born. I wonder what they were thinking in this chaotic period of time. Did they see that their lives were going to be changed so drastically? Did they even think for one moment that what they had built up will be yanked right out from their hands soon?
Attending this class has given me an unsettling desire to dig out as much as I can from my father, what happened when he was a teenager in China, what did he experienced, what does it mean for him to live under the communist's rule now in Hong Kong. I wanted to find out from my mother what did her father say about his life as an entrepreneur in Shanghai, what were the definitive events that made him decide that he had to leave Shanghai and everything that he had built up with his own hands. How has all these affect the way my parents live their lives? How does that affect us, their children? And how are we, my sister, my brother and I, are going to teach our children about our family, and about China. I want to be able to understand the past, so I can look into the future.
The future has become a bit complicated though now that I am not a 'British' anymore, rather an 'American'. It's ironical, isn't it? I am never officially a 'Chinese'. Though I know full well my identity in Christ, I have never come to full grasp of my identity on earth.
I never liked history, never understood it, never treasured it. Now I can see why people study history, and why people like Dr. Cook are crazy about it.
We study history because the past is the present, and the future too.
P.S. My dear blog readers who are from Mainland China, it is a privilege to know you, I have learned from you how China has evolved all these years, and what China is like at the present time. This is a lesson that I will never learn from my family since they are not there to witness all the tremendous changes. The purpose of this post is not to criticize China, rather, recording the point of view that my parents have presented to me towards the life under the early communist rule in China.
