In 1992 my American born Chinese wife visited her ancestral home for the first time. Stepping off the plane, she was greeted by an official who noted that her family had come from Guangzhou, or what we used to call "Canton." Surprised, Jadyne realized for the first time how the facial features of the Chinese reflected that part of the homeland where they had been born.
A couple of weeks later we were privileged to meet up with "her family", relatives she'd never met, people whose home showed photographs of her, Teeny, and Greg, but people whose existence was a shadow in her youth. Jadyne's grandmother, Rose, had married Harry Lee later in life, and Harry had always wanted to go back to China to visit his family, his relatives, his sister, but because his birth certificate was "out of order" he was denied travel. We were able to make contact with his relatives, though, and we spent one day with them in Guangzhou.
We had hoped to meet them at home, but Harry's sister was in the hospital, having been struck by a bicycle. Nevertheless, we were able to visit.
The photo doesn't show it, but the floor of the "hospital" room was a filthy linoleum. There were several beds in the room and no privacy. Harry's sister is reading a letter that Jadyne brought from her grandfather.
We had been invited to visit Jadyne's cousins, again, people she'd never met. I don't know their Chinese names, but we met them at Guangzhou's White Swan Hotel, then drove to their apartment, several blocks away. Both University Professors, he taught architecture, she taught Math.
We had afternoon tea together, and with the help of a translator (talking), were able to share family stories and history. Recognizing that they were both college educated professionals, I wanted to ask them how they had managed to endure the Chinese Cultural Revolution. They politely indicated that neither one of them "wanted to talk about it." They had survived, when so many had not.
Relics from Mao's Great Leap Forward, from the Red Guard, from the violent Cultural Revolution, still remain in souvenir shops. Here's one of them, a windup alarm clock:
Mao's face is flanked by three guided missiles between the 10 and 11. The second hand is a jet plane trailing a silver jet stream. To the left of the jet is a disembodied arm from one of the Red Guards. He's waving one of Mao's Little Red Books, a bible for behavior. Between the hour and minute hands two Red Guards, each with a red armband, shout revolutionary slogans to the masses.
The Kitchen and bathroom
Yes, this was twenty-five years ago, and times do change. The modest apartment that Jadyne's cousins lived in, has no doubt been updated. The professors have retired. We have lost touch. China 2017 is no longer China 1992. There was no free press during the Cultural Revolution, none in 1992. The press was the enemy, and those who criticized the government did not live to tell about it. I haven't asked my friend Haoyun about China today, how free he would feel to criticize or point out faults. We need to tend our own garden.
