China 2023

This blog is originally written in Chinese. The English translation may have slight differences from the original text.

2023年1月9日凌晨，我没睡着。曾经每次飞回新加坡开学的前夜我都会因为思绪万千而失眠，这次却是不一样的缘由。

I could not sleep at the midnight of 9th Jan 2023. I used to suffer from insomnia at nights before my return to Singapore for school, but this time the cause is different.

我打开一罐金汤力mocktail。我曾经无比惧怕憎恨汤力水，而这一刻含有奎宁的碳酸液体滑入我的喉咙时，苦味从舌头的尖端开始绽放、萦绕、蔓延，传导到脑中。

I opened a can of Gin Tonic mocktail. I used to loathe tonic water, but now when the carbonated liquid containing quinine flowed through my throat, the sense of bitterness exploded and lingered at the tip of my tongue, communicated to my brain though my nerves.

过去一年我迎来了国籍、社会、家庭角色的巨变，虽然对于国籍认同的切换于我并没有什么问题，我在外也早就以新加坡人的身份自居，但在重临故土的当儿我依旧感受到了文化的冲击。

Last year I went through major changes regarding my citizenship, employment and marital status. The change of nationality is not difficult at all for me, and I have been enjoying being Singaporean for a long time, but still at this moment before I set foot on China, I feel a culture shock.

我已经远离大陆和大陆社交媒体数年，对大陆只有零星而模糊且不全面的认知。在这样一个庞然巨物面前，我更多感到的是恐惧而不是亲切，是陌生而不是熟悉。作为一个外国人，我知道要去到有些边陲地方需要额外的手续，住宿的选择也只剩下具有接待外宾资质的四五星级酒店。

I have left China and have stopped using Chinese social media sites for many years, and my remaining understanding of China is blurry and incomprehensive. Confronting such a regime, I feel more fear than affinity, more strangeness than familiarity. Now as a foreigner to China, I am aware that I will need some clearances before I can travel to remote frontiers, and I will only be able to stay at hotels approved to accommodate foreign visitors.

好像我每次到中国都倾向于到去过的地方继续转悠。已知的事物让我安心，我知道我能见到期待的景象；而未知的地域也许有惊喜但更可能失望。这两端达成了微妙的平衡，让我在别处探索新世界，而在中国止步舒适区。

I realised that I tended to visit the same cities in China again and again. I feel reassured that I have been to those places, and I will see the scenery that I once saw. Going to places not visited yet, may bring me surprises but more likely disappointment. I have striked a delicate balance between these two options: I stay inside my comfort zone in China and explore the rest of the untouched world.

机场看起来还是那个机场，只是人都变了，我也变了。倒是不需要按指纹，我填得密密麻麻的入境表让移民官吃了一惊。沿着熟悉的标牌向机场巴士处走去，价格从25元涨到了36元，却被告知下一班在一个半小时后，无奈拖着大箱子去搭我早已熟知8块钱票价的地铁。地铁里的乞讨者不见了，一日游的广告传单消失了，地铁轨道旁的动态广告也熄灭了，是否侧面印证了经济的低迷？

Pudong airport still felt the same, but everything had changed. Once being a Chinese citizen, I did not have to record my fingerprints like other foreigners. My completed arrival card, which required to declare countries visited in the last two years, caught the immiy officer by surprise. Walking to the airport bus station, the ticket price went up from CN¥25 to CN¥36. I was told the next bus would depart in 1h30m. Out of options, I had to take underground which cost the same at CN¥8. I no longer saw beggars in the train, nor people throwing day-tour flyers at passengers, even the dynamic advertisement boards stopped flashing. What happened? Bad time it is.

我来到这条可以载入史册的道路。路南端尽头是伊朗领事馆，而更往南不远就是美国领事馆。911路公交车从我身旁驶过。我不是个阴谋论者，但这一系列的巧合总让人感到刻意。街角有一座聂耳的雕像，创作后来成为国歌的音乐家的英年早逝难免让人扼腕，但同他合作的作词者的死则更令人唏嘘。这里靠近旧租界，街边有许多挂着外文名字招牌的餐馆和酒吧，但此时这条路却安静如斯，只有偶然驶过的外卖骑手的电动单车的尖厉的哀鸣。一辆警车掩着窗藏在一个路口。

I came to this road which had become a history. The southern end of the road is where the consulate of Iran is located, and the consulate of USA is just a yard down the road. Bus no. 911 drove past me. All those coincidences made me feel suspicious even though I am not a conspiracy theory lover. The statue of Nie Er sits at the corner of the street, who died at his 20s made people feel sorry for this musician who composed the song which then become the national anthem of PRC, if they don't know what happened to the man who wrote the lyrics of that song (he died during the Cultural Revolution). Here was part of concession areas from late 19th century to the first half of 20th century, there are many restaurants and bars on this road, but it was an unusually quiet day. I saw a police vehicle lurking around at the junction of South Urumqi Rd and Anfu Rd.

路过已经关闭被栏杆围起来的核酸亭。同地铁站里的一样，令人生畏的散发着金属寒光的不锈钢栏杆象征着权力与傲慢，而被它分割指定的路线则象征着畏惧和服从。而在时代匆匆刮过的大风下，核酸亭作为一种昨日的遗物已经愈发显得不合时宜，需要赶尽杀绝、再不提起，似乎从未存在过。

I walked past a barricaded shut PCR testing kiosk. Barricades seen at underground stations, made of stainless steel, are formidable symbols of power and arrogance, whereas the paths they demarcate signify fear and obedience. Political orders were backtracked overnight, and PCR testing kiosk as a symbol of the past, were no longer wanted to be seen as they had never existed.

下了地铁走向江边。步行街上不时有人上来试图吸引注意。我通通无视了。他们的面相并不和善，从他们的语气里我嗅出一丝骗局的味道。生于这片肮脏的土地，或许我永远无法摆脱的就是这饱经教训习得的多疑和警觉，对陌生人先入为主的有罪推定。

Off the train, I walked towards the Bund. Random people came up to attract attention but I ignored all of them. I smelled a sense of scam here. Born in this land, something that I could never get away is being cautious and vigilant after learning my lessons, and presuming people are malevonent by nature.

我想要一种不鹤立鸡群的特立独行，藏匿人海的健步如飞。我摘下口罩，来到江边。不戴口罩一方面象征反抗强权力的压迫，另一方面戴口罩又是在国家机器无孔不入的监视和窥探下心理上的最后一块遮羞布。这两边的论据似乎都令人信服，我最后还是没有屈服于江边的寒风。

I want to be unique but not distinctive. I want to hide in the crowd yet rushing through people. I took off my mask. Not wearing a mask can be seen as civil disobedience, but wearing a mask provides a fake sense of privacy against the widespread surveillance. I decided to embrace the harsh wind at night.

在欧洲旅行时我会早起，因为日落在四点多让人不得不珍惜宝贵的日光。听在德国的朋友说重要的大部头的课都会安排在秋季学期，因为春季学期大家都出去玩了。可我在中国却没有选择早起。我想着吃过早餐，避开早高峰，再慢悠悠地出门。也许是因为在中国在到过的城市我没有目的性所以才能如此悠闲自得。

I woke up early in the morning during my recent trip to Europe, as to maximise the day given the sun set around 4pm. I heard from my friend in Germany that universities would schedule those intellectually challenging courses for winter, as no one will stay in during the summer. I chose the opposite this time in China. I wanted to have breakfast and start the day after the morning rush hours. This may be the result of not having a cause in cities I once visited.

我走在干净整洁的街上。要说的话很多事物是在发展的，电动车、智慧路牌、联网公交信息，但我为什么感觉不到呢？想到中国，脑海里首先泛起的是极权统治、种族灭绝、性别歧视、无法无天。但对生活与其中的人来说，他们好像都看不到这些，他们只感受到手机扫码的方便，外卖网购的便捷。而我艰难地先将行李箱推过闸机，始终加载不出乘车码最后发现是必须要授予“发现附近设备”权限，乘车码公交上刷不出来又与手机的Google Pay互相干扰最后拿了钱包里的银联卡才得以付费，买火车票只能到窗口排队还要忍着农民工们不停的插队的这些事是他们感受不到的。

I walked on the streets which were clean. There are some good things happening in China: EVs, smart traffic lights, real-time bus information. For some reasons, I could not relate. When I think of China, I think of a totalitarian regime, genocide against Uyghurs and Tibetans, sexual discrimination (and so many other forms of discrimination), a place where laws are not honoured. But for people living in China, they seem to neglect all those things. They speak highly of QR code payment, food delivery and online shopping. What I experienced was different: I need to push my luggage through the gate before tapping in to the underground, when I found out I could not initiate the QR code for entry, only to realise I had to grant "nearby devices" access to WeChat. I had issues with flashing the QR code on a bus whilst my Google Pay was detected through NFC, in the end I tapped with a UnionPay card. As a foreigner, I had to proceed to manned counters to buy railway ticket, and fight with peasants who were cutting the line at all times.

我来到湖边。淤积的河道形成了湖，水的命运不再滔滔汹涌直奔大海而在此处流连。而这一汪湖水见证了王朝的覆灭，文人的抱负，烈士的诤言。而我想令肉身处在同一空间，这样在冥冥之中就与几百年几千年前的人和事产生了连接和交集。

I came to West Lake, Hangzhou. It was formed due to deposits of sand and mud at this old course of Qiantang River. This lake is old enough to witness endings of dynasties, ambitions of aspiring government officials and last words of martyrs. I wanted to be here physically, so that I felt connected to the people and events in the history.

我关掉手机充电。带的水瓶瓶盖设计不足，在包里颠簸着翻滚着自己就松开了。疑似进水的充电宝接触不良，关了手机充电的的进度轮才能一步一停地缓慢蠕动。我凭着最后看的地图和路牌摸索着前进。没有了电子地图、社交媒体和手机时钟，我抬头看着太阳确定方向。北纬三十度冬季的正午太阳角度也并不高，只有温暖而全无刺眼。在这无垠的见证过无数人与事的湖水面前，似乎时间的意义被极大削弱，甚至不足以作为编年史的一个小刻度。而我意识到我心里始终有一只钟，计算着时差、日落、回到酒店的时间、起床的闹钟的时间。包里装着一只笔而没有便笺纸，关掉手机的我无从记录此刻的万千心绪。也许电子设备随时随地的availability的便利并不是一件好事：我们高速运转的大脑每时每刻都是新的想法迸发，而并不是所有的想法都值得记录成文，只有那些日后漫长岁月里还能忆起的深刻在脑海的想法才是对自己最重要的。

Water leaked inside my backpack, causing issue with my power bank, so that only when powered off my phone could charge its battery. Without online maps, Instagram or clock, I relied on the sun to navigate. The sun at winter is warm but not too bright. Facing the lake which witnessed history, the significance of time becomes weakened and irrelevant. Meanwhile, I have always had a clock in my mind, keeping time differences, time of sunset, time for me to come back to my hotel room, and time when I should wake up. Without paper or phone I could not note down my thoughts, which enlightened me that not every thought is worthwhile to be recorded when my ever-functioning brain is sparking up ideas every minute. Only those thoughts that remain even after a long while are important to us.

也许我曾经不愿意分享我的想法也是因为我的想法如同火花稍纵即逝而又难以捕捉。而我现在刚刚开始表达，我总想捕捉所有的想法记录成文，就像收集癖一样积累了太多杂乱无章的想法，而在搬家时又把这些收集品一一放逐。也许人际关系亦是这样，你无法永远留住所有，只得看着曾经熟悉的人渐渐远去。

My reluctance to share was probably due to the difficulty of capturing my ephemeral thoughts. Now I finally start to express myself, and I want to record every thought of mine, like a collector collecting even the weirdest object who was forced to let go all of them. It applies to friendship as well, not every friend we make will stay friend forever, and what we can do is just to let go.

小女孩和妈妈找到湖边一座亭子坐下，妈妈开始抽查小女孩背诗，然后掏出手机给背诗的小女孩录像发给老师。她们不关心振翅降落在水面的银鸥，不关心枯枝间悠然游水的鸳鸯，不关心水里反射的太阳的日晕，不关心微风中轻轻摇曳的嫩黄柳枝。枯萎的莲蓬像黑颈鹤的背影，孤傲地站立在水中央。

A mother and her daughter sit at a lakeside pavilion. The mother asked her daughter to recite Chinese poems for her to take a video. They were focused on what they were doing, rather than a gull landing on water, or a mandarin duck swimming in the weeds, or the reflection of sun corona, or willow branchings dancing in the breeze. Withered lotus pods, which looked like black-necked cranes, stood in water in solitude.

每个人的眼睛都只能看到他们聚焦的部分，每个人心中都有自己的那幅景。当我在暗自窃喜游客们只关注中间的圆形门洞而忽略了另两座石潭也恰好落进旁边两扇花形窗洞时，也许亦有人在笑我在石桥上站了那么久忽略了边缘清晰的橙红落日和闪着细碎金光的水波。我站在石桥上早已勘测确定的那个我觉得完美的点，静静地等待人群散去留给我那幅我早已在心里确定的温暖宁静的画面按下快门。等待的过程中无数人从我身边穿过，有拘谨地等前面没有人才举起手机的学生，有急不可耐钻到我面前抢着喀嚓的北方口音中年游客，有花钱租了清代服饰给小朋友穿上摆拍的父母和围绕着小朋友左拍右拍的颈挂着低端单反的景区摄影工。

People only see where their eyes are focused on, which is already in their mind. When I sneered at people who only focused on the central doorway of Hearts Together Pavilion while neglected the two side window openings, through which the other two stone pagodas can be seen, someone could be laughing at me as well who stood there like a stone and ignored the gorgeous sunset and glittering waves. I waited there, standing on the point I carefully measured, for a scene I conceived with no others in the frame. All sorts of people walked past me, including students who were like me and wanted to take a perfect shot, tourists from the North who rushed in front of me and could not wait to take a photo, children dressed in Qing dynasty costumes posing for the photographer on-hire carrying old DSLR model to take some shots of them.

我踏上拥挤的游船返回市区。我来了不为实现什么，也不为带走什么。人的一生为什么一定要有一个崇高的伟大的意义？活着就是活着，而我自己永远不是其他人。

There was nothing I came for, nothing I left with. Why must people achieve something remarkable in life? Life is life only and I want to be no others.

我收拾行囊准备踏上旅程，回到市侩、关系、利益错综交织的我曾经成长和生活的那个家中。

I started my journey back to my hometown where family relationships, worldly matters and monetary interests are intertwined.