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A Distant Place

by Mark F. Harris

202 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #02-0208; ISBN 1-55369-395-7; US$20.50, C$26.95, EUR17.60, £12.20

This unique collection of student essays is the result of an American teacher's fascination with the content and quality of stories submitted in his English composition classes at Qingdao University in Qingdao, Shandong, P. R. China. The best and brightest of the country's youth detail family traditions and customs that are rapidly disappearing. Like a time capsule, some stories preserve the history of war, famine, poverty and deprivation. Others describe the personal experiences of childhood, family relationships, school activities, the difficulty of growing up, the pressure of studying to pass the university entrance examination and of optimism when contemplating the future. Essays depicting situations of great seriousness are balanced with those reflecting childhood innocence and humor.

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About the Book

This book is a compilation of the 230 best student essays submitted in English composition classes at the Teachers College of Qingdao University in Qingdao, Shandong, P. R. China, during the spring semester of 2000. The stories were submitted to fulfill assignments given by American instructor, Mark F. Harris, for his students to write about their grandparents, parents, family life and some of their own childhood and school experiences as well as to contemplate the future.
In doing research for the essays, a few of the students had the good fortune to interview their grandparents, while many more were able to question their parents. They wrote about times of hardship, sacrifice and deprivation. They gave brief but graphic accounts of the Japanese invasion and occupation of China, the War of Liberation and the founding of modern China, the Cultural Revolution and of hardships associated with famine and poverty. Some of the essays described the common relationships that exist in the traditional Chinese family.
In writing about themselves, most students related memorable events of their normal, carefree childhood. They also mentioned encountering frustrations in their growing up and changing years and of competing with classmates in school activities. Almost universally, they wrote about the challenge of preparing for and passing the university entrance examination. Many essays conveyed messages portraying strong cultural values, such as honesty, perseverance, loyalty, devotion, justice and responsibility. Stories depicting situations of great seriousness are balanced with those reflecting childhood innocence and humor.
The students wrote in English, which is their second language. Mr. Harris quickly learned there was a unique style to their "Chinese English". They were able to superimpose English over their Chinese language and thought patterns, resulting in writing with less precision and exactness when compared to American usage. Yet, beautiful imagery and poetic expressions seemed to flow naturally. Even though the reader may have no knowledge of the Chinese language, most probably, he will unknowingly be reading "Chinese" when studying these essays.
A good example of this beautiful language is expressed in an essay by Liu Ranji (James), who concluded that "a distant place is not only a concept of space, it is a higher pursuit in spirit. The pursuit will be endless, since a distant place is like a beacon that guides my journey in life." The title of the book comes from this essay, since the "pursuit" described by the writer in many ways parallels the author's "pursuit", even in traveling to "a distant place" called China.
This timely collection of essays, written by some of China's brightest young people, gives clear insight into a way of life that properly needs to be recorded.

About the Author

For thirty-five years, Mark Harris taught high school biology and photography in the San Francisco Bay Area of California. After retiring, he and his wife Luree spent two years in China teaching English to university students who were preparing to be secondary school teachers of English. Mark and Luree were associated with the China Teacher's Program sponsored by the David M. Kennedy Center for International Studies at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah.
Recently, Mark and Luree sold their home in the Bay Area and moved to their new "retirement" home in the Sierra Nevada foothill community of Cameron Park, thirty miles east of Sacramento, California. Both are involved with numerous hobbies. Being a great storyteller, Mark made an audio recording of "Devastating American Jokes" which was marketed in China to university and high school students of English. Even above writing, Mark enjoys nature photography. Soon, he plans to publish a book displaying his one hundred best photographs. Mark and Luree have five children and thirteen grandchildren.

Excerpts

Title Story

A Distant Place

By Liu Ranji (James)
    The following story is what I'll tell you about my dream. The story did, does and will exist until the day I lie down and stop breathing.
   I was born in a small village surrounded by a series of hills and mountains. I was seldom taken out of the valley with its terraced fields that angled into the sky. I wondered why the sun and the moon rose from the eastern mountains and set beyond those in the west. Especially, on moonlit nights, I mused about the dreamlike contour of the hills and points beyond. When my father asked me about my thoughts, I said I would climb the mountains to catch the sun and the moon.
    When the day came for me to make the climb, I brimmed over with high spirits. To my surprise, at the top of the mountain, there was no hiding place for the sun. Instead, there were more hills and mountains. But within reach of my sight, loomed the coastline to the east. So, just like the sun and the moon, as one dream sets another rises. Therefore, I would go to the sea. By visiting the sea often, I have learned that the world is large and colorful.
    Soon, I became a student at a high school in my small valley. The town was so small and dull and cramped I was caged like a bird. My dream lay in the distant sky. Now, I have partly fulfilled my dream, attending the university in a big city. I still keep my eyes fixed on the outside world. Certainly, a distant place is not only a concept of space, it is a higher pursuit in spirit. The pursuit will be endless, since a distant place is like a beacon that guides my journey in life.

My Grandmother Was Like A Mirror

By Leng Li Jin (Alice)
     My grandmother was born in 1903 in Tiao Zhou. She died a few years ago. Whenever I think of her full-of-regret life, a feeling of sympathy and sadness arises spontaneously.
    It was from my grandmother's bound feet that I began to have more understanding of her. How shocked I was to see her deformed feet! Only the first toe was able to grow naturally. The other four toes were forced to grow beneath the sole. I asked my grandmother, "Do you feel pain? Who was so cruel to bind your feet? Why didn't you resist?" My grandmother answered slowly and bitterly. "My parents forced me to bind my feet. I rebelled, but it was no use. At that time, it was the tradition for girls to bind their feet." My grandmother's deformed feet made a deep impression on me. I am sure what was deformed was not only her feet, but her whole life.
    My grandmother was uneducated. She was curious about my books, although she could understand nothing. One day, she picked up my English book and asked me what was written in it. I explained to her every word and sentence very carefully, but she did not understand why I liked to learn that awkward-sounding, foolish-looking language. I sighed. A person who is deprived of the right to receive an education is like a bird deprived of wings. Such a bird will never leave the nest or see how wonderful the outside world is.
    My grandmother was married at the age of fifteen. I once asked her why she was married so early. She said it was natural for girls to be married at that age and that usually before the marriage, they did not know their husbands. I often think, although my grandfather was really a good man, if Grandmother had chosen the man she really loved, she could have lived a much happier life.
    Grandmother was like a mirror. She reflected the unfortunate life of her generation and the great differences between her generation and my generation.

Remembering the Past

By Gong Qiao (Echo)
     Today, people don't know much about their ancestors. In our modern society, people look much into the future, but seldom turn back to the tracks our grandparents or even our parents have left. I hardly thought about learning of my grandparents' experiences. So in writing this essay, it's given me a good chance to hand down the history of my family.
    Now, in front of me sits my grandma, who is my only living grandparent. She was a little surprised by my questions regarding events that might be rarely mentioned for so long a time. I am sort of regretful, for I guess it was not a very happy memory for her, but I listened. "It was fifty-one years ago when your grandpa came here." It seems she once again went back to those days while her tones floated around my ears. What did my grandpa look like? It seems rather mysterious to think of a man I never saw, but who had the closest blood flowing inside me. "He was a tall man with deep eyes. Your Grandpa was very intelligent. He could use the abacus with both hands. It was the time our nation was newly founded. In our fledgling country people were struggling to survive. Your great grandfather taught his son to try his luck and lead a better life in the city. So we left our native place."
    "At the beginning, everything was hard for us, but after two years of hard work and diligent study, your grandpa became a successful businessman and an accountant. The financial situation changed for the better and we purchased our own house here. The happy life hadn't lasted long, when the cultural calamity came. It was an era of extreme belief in our country's leaders and in pure communism. Your grandpa, among many tradesmen at that time, was misjudged a Rightist. It resulted in his illness, and he left us before you were born. It is a lifelong pity for me, and also, it was the fault of an era."
    Grandma was lost in thought. I know that it was the deep hurt for her and for our family. But I also know she is a strong woman who holds up the burden bravely which fate had put on her. She got through it perfectly. I'm grateful for this opportunity to learn the history of my family, which is the precious heritage for me.

The Leaning Umbrella

By Zhang Yi (Lizzy)
    Have you heard of a leaning umbrella? Maybe you'll feel it impossible and strange, but I have one indeed.
    When I was a child, I liked rain very much. Every rainy day, I asked my grandfather to take me out to enjoy the beautiful scenery. When we were walking in the rain, my grandfather was always holding the umbrella. At that moment, I was very happy. But gradually, I found out something strange. Each time we got home, one of my grandpa's shoulders was wet and the other one was dry. I was puzzled and asked him naively, "Grandpa, why is one of your shoulders wet? Was the umbrella leaning?" Grandfather always smiled and answered, "Yes, our umbrella was leaning." So in my childhood memories, I took for granted that the umbrella was leaning.
    Many years later, on another rainy day, my grandfather and I were walking in the rain again. But this time, it was I who held the umbrella, because now grandfather was very old. Unconsciously, I pushed the umbrella toward him all the time. And I didn't notice that one of my shoulders was out of the umbrella's reach. When we got home, I found one of my shoulders was wet. I suddenly discovered the secret of the leaning umbrella. Unconsciously, I did the same thing, just like my grandpa had done. It was love that was condensed in the leaning umbrella. I was so moved by my grandpa's love. In my opinion, he was the best grandfather in the world.

I Dug You out of the Field

By Jiang Jian Li (Tina)
    When I was a child, I asked my mother where I came from. My mother answered me with a gentle smile, "I dug you out of the field." Fantastic! I was excited. A great plan was born from my heart.
    It was a time of sunshine and gentle breeze, of trees and shrubs bursting into glorious blossoms. The blue sky was dotted with white clouds. My brother and I were on the way to the field, with a spade on his shoulder and a basket on my arm. The breeze kissed my face and let my hair fly. I was excited and happy like a rabbit. We were going to carry out our great plan--to dig a baby from the field.
    The field was beautiful, with green trees, a lot of grass and little flowers. "Let's try to find a hole and dig out a little brother or sister, "I said to my brother. We looked for holes carefully. Finally, I found a little hole. I couldn't help being excited and I exclaimed, "Is there a baby in it?" Then my brother began to dig. As the hole became deeper and wider, I was more and more nervous, heart in my throat, blood running faster. My eyes were wide open, waiting for a miracle. Finally, what did I see? Some little, red, bare and sleeping fellows with little ears and a tail! "What! Are they babies? Did we grow up from these fellows? I can't believe it." Then my brother said, "Nonsense silly girl, they are mice."
    At noon, we went back home. My basket was filled with flowers instead of the baby I expected to dig out of the field. At home, I told Mom this experience. Mom burst into laughter.

Hide and Seek

By Qin Shi Tao (Joseph)
    I remember a very interesting affair that occurred in my happy childhood. One day, when I was five years old, my pals and I were playing hide and seek. It was my turn to hide. I had the advantage, since we were playing in my house. I knew a hiding place where I would not be found easily. In a corner of the kitchen was a pail. I decided to sit in it, so I slowly lowered my buttocks into the container. I succeeded. No one found me. I was very excited about not being found but after a while, the house became very quiet. Since my pals couldn't find me--the owner of the house--they went home. I wanted to get out of the pail, but I was wedged in tightly and couldn't move my body at all. I cried for help, but nobody heard me. I was tired and fell asleep.
    It was dark when my mom came home. She couldn't find me. She shouted in the house, "My boy, where are you?" I was awakened as I heard Mum's worried voice, so I responded, loudly, "Mum, I am here." Mum came to the kitchen and found me. She dragged me out of the pail. When she heard my story, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She patted me on the shoulder and said with a smile, "A naughty boy!"

It is Misty Today

By Yang Chen (Kitty)
    It is misty today. All things become dim. The sea ahead and the mountains disappear, just like they have never existed. In the garden, the trees and the flowers are covered with a coat of white silk; very beautiful. On campus, many voices reach us from the playground, but where are the children? It is misty today.

The Shortest and the Longest

By Yu Wei (Rachel)
    They meet each other in the corridor of the train and love each other at first sight. For several seconds, they share the feeling that shocked them all over. They hold still, feeling that they have loved each other some decades long, long ago, somewhere far, far away. For those few seconds, the deep blue sky hangs on the windows, while sleeping valleys, trees, flowers and even couples pass by quickly. Forgotten ages pass by. The future passes by. They themselves soon pass by each other headed toward their own destinies. This might be the shortest event of their lives, but it began the longest memory that will last as long as they remain alive.

Four Seasons

By Cheng Dong Mei (Helen)
    The pageantry of the four seasons is a thrilling and an unending drama. Each season has her own features that give me enjoyment. I like the pale green grasses in spring, the dark green trees in summer, the fine golden wheat in fall and the white snow in winter. They present me with the various spectacles of nature. Of the four seasons, I prefer spring, because it's the resurrection time and everything in it shows me that life goes on.

Echo's Face

By Yu Hai Yan (Petrel)
    Echo's face is very beautiful. It has regular features: her limpid eyes are the most attractive feature according to our Chinese aesthetic standards; her nose is small and clear; her mouth is middle-size; the color of her lips is just like that of a fresh, red rose. Besides, her skin is very clear, smooth like a peeled peach and as white as snow. So in brief, her face is so beautiful that I regard her as the Snow Princess of our class.

To My Future Daughter

By Chai Xin (Christine)
    My Dear Daughter: Welcome to this world and to our family. You're so wonderful and cute, just like the angel I dreamed of. For many times when you sleep, I gaze at your delicate face with rapture. How fortunate I am to own you.
    Since the curtain of your life has lifted, I feel I have a duty to tell you something that will do you good in your future life. Love is the essence of this world, so first and foremost, you should long for love. In the union of love you can see, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined.
    Knowledge is considered as one of the most valuable riches. Do your best to pursue it. By and by, you'll be intelligent and graceful 'til you become a full girl.
    Mama takes a fancy to this saying, "Give me a fish and I will eat today. Teach me to fish and I will eat for a lifetime." It partly means no one can give you what you do for yourself. I hope you will understand the simple message of self-reliance. Never attempt to count upon anyone: your parents will die, your husband might leave you, only you can accompany yourself throughout your life.
    My dear, maybe you don't look pretty in common people's eyes, but, please don't be sad about it. Anyhow, looks are not everything. Remember, every flower gives pleasure in its own way, and that's true of people too. You're always an apple in Mama's eye.
    I assure you, I will provide you with the best conditions possible. I hope you would accept and be grateful for what you have, whether it be much or little. There is so much I cannot control, but I'll try to make things better.
    Little angel, I want you to feel loved and lovable, creative and imaginative, imbued with a sense that there is magic in the world and beauty even in the face of adversity. In truth, Mama wants you to see yourself much like a gardenia--lovely, strong and perfect--with an aura of magic and perhaps a bit of mystery.
    And also, feel pity for the suffering of mankind: children of famine, victims tortured by oppressors, helpless old people. Try to help them, comfort them. In return, you'll feel great happiness. Spend your life lifting people up, not putting them down. Do as you would be done by.
    In a word my dear, Mama hopes you fully enjoy yourself in the world and that you please others. Because of how you live, our world will be a much better and nobler place.

A Great Pity

By Dong Tai (Gill)

     Once I climbed a hill with a beautiful girl. On our way down, I had a strong urge to kiss her. I was in love with her when I first met her in college. I didn't know whether she loved me or not. I only knew that she was very kind to me and was concerned for me. I didn't know whether she would mind if I kissed her, but I wanted to try. I pretended to fall to the ground, injured seriously. So she came back and bent down to lift me up. I wanted to snatch a kiss very much, but I was confused. Eventually, I failed to kiss her. What a nice idea, and what a great pity!

A Boy in Trouble

By Gao Xiang (Guy)

    My Chinese name is Gao Xiang. My English name is Guy. I'm twenty-two years old, which means I'm an adult. But, I like others to say that I'm still young. I have curly hair, a long face, small eyes, a high nose and a big mouth. That's not a handsome face. It's even a bit ugly, but I don't feel sorry for it, because in recent years, some have said that ugly men are popular.
    My family lives in the countryside. During my childhood, I experienced a hard life. I made up my mind to stand out among my fellows. I succeeded. I was a good student, at least in primary school and middle school. However, with my age increasing, I couldn't refuse the lure of society. I degenerated. I'm no longer a good student.
    When someone asks what I like most about myself, it's difficult to answer. Thus far, I haven't found any virtues that are worth naming. That's not to say that I look down upon myself, but it is a fact. I also want to make progress to gain respect, to achieve some good grades and to be a good student. I'm not by nature a bad student. I just lose my direction. That's me, a boy who is in trouble.

Catalogue Information