The Two Sides of a Coin(1)

One thing impressed me most in my visit to Changsha City, Hunan Province was the day when I was sightseeing Yuelu Hill. The hill was not very high, and was covered by various trees and plants with some old-fashioned gloriettes dotting among them, quite a view from distance. The hill embraced the Hunan University, whose history could be traced back to Song Dynasty. The original site was still a part of the campus and becomes a tourist attraction nowadays. When I entered the grand gate of the school, I found there were few tourists there, a situation I found both rare and pleasant, for almost every Chinese interesting spot seemed to be filled with enthusiastic tourists. I like to sightsee some less crowded places, where I can take my time and enjoy the view leisurely, without missing something important or worrying about how to fight my way to the sight or out of the crowd. So I strolled around the yard, read the craved words, examined the Chinese paintings on the wall, and studied various ancient buildings, imaging hundreds of years ago, students in the old time might study, work in the same place, I felt close to them. The buildings were beautiful and sparkling new, but if you had seen a lot of them, they would not attract you any more, these ancient buildings looked like each other. In the main hall of school I found an introduction of this site, which said all the buildings in this place were rebuilt around 1980s. If they were the source of the inspiration and thought you just had, it was a very strange feeling to know all these old things just came into being about 20 years ago.

When I was appreciating the highest pavilion, through the moon-shaped door on the left came out a group of westerners. They scattered around, talking, resting, and taking photos. It’s not unusual to see westerners in historical spots, but one thing attracted my attention was the way some of them carried their baby: they didn’t hold the baby in arms like Chinese parents, but used some special bag to keep it in front of the chest like a kangaroo mother. With a closer look, all the babies they were carrying looked like Chinese. I was curious and tried to observe them without being rude. They looked like four couples, aged from late 20s to early 40s, each couple had a baby to care. They listened to the English guide, attended the baby with love and gentleness. The babies were quite, some of them were dozing and some just looked around and listened. I was dying to know why they had a Chinese baby, but I was not bold enough to come up to one of the parents and ask the question. When I was hesitating about whether or not I should ask and find the answer, the guide mentioned them to move to the next place, my chance slipped away. I also had other place to see, so I went on with my tour. The following time was not as enjoyable as before, I was haunted by what I had just seen, wondering the reason, regretting about my shyness. It seemed like I always thought too much, weighted too much possibilities when I made a decision. Sometimes the chance just passed by.

I finished the sightseeing quickly, with all kinds of thoughts in mind, I did not have the right mood to the enjoy myself. On my way to the exit, I came across those couples again. Apparently they were taking a long rest. Some were sitting on chair; some were walking around with the baby in arms. Now or never, I gathered up my nerve and approached them. I came to the nearest man who looked very friendly, bended down to watched closely the baby in his arm. He was much cooperated, adjusted his arms so I could get a better look. He smiled warmly, proudly demonstrating the baby. The baby was very lovely with an angelic face, lying comfortably, peacefully in the strong, protecting arms, staring at me attentively. You know the feeling you have when you are looking into the eyes of little babies, you seem to find the answer to everything, or you maybe don’t see anything in their easy. Naturally I started with the praise of the baby.

“Your baby is lovely.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“Is it a he or she?”

“She.”

“How old is she?”

“Ten months old.”

“It looks like she is a Chinese girl.”

“Yeah, ----”

“So you adopt her?”

“Yeah, we adopt her through an agent, we find her in an orphanage in Changsha City. You know orphanage? It is a place for the children abandoned by their parents. ”

The man talking with me was tall and strong, I guess he might be in his thirties. But the gray hairs in his sidebums made me believe that he was older, about 40 perhaps. Seeing us talking, a woman came up to us and took the baby from the man, swaying her tenderly and told me,

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