Fanghuzhai 于 1999/12/20 14:16:23 发表在 汉英
中国领养了我
[加拿大] 李莎著, Translated by Fanghuzhai
作者简介： Lisa Carducci， 意裔加拿大双语作家， 诗人。 原北京第二外语学院法语系外籍专家.
Using inforseek.com, key in "Lisa Carducci" and you will find this article.
1 住在北京是一种不同寻常的经历。我认识一个在这儿工作的美国人。 她并不是 我们 所说的“疯狂地爱着”中国的那种人。 她从美国度假回来后， 我问她：“你假期过得好吗？” 她说：“哦， 烦－－－透了； 那儿什么事都是意料之中的， 太没意思了！”
2 就是从那天起， 从那件事起， 她开始珍惜在这儿生活的机会， 开始一天一天地注意 中国的不断发展。
3 要是你才来中国一个多星期， 你一定知道“老外”是什么意思。 我1985年头一次 去中国的时候， 我们在长城饭店住了一晚上。 第二天早上， 有一百多个中国人 呆在大门那儿等着。 等谁呢？ 等我们 ！中国人看外国人上汽车在中国是一大景观。 我们旅途所到之处， 都有中国人围着， 看我们的穿戴， 看我们买的东西 和想要买的东西。 如果有哪个老外做笔记， 他们也会伸着脖子看他在纸上写的外国字儿， 如果我们筷子用得很熟练， 他们也会 评头品足 一番， 如果我们有谁是一头“黄”发， 他们也会伸手去摸一摸。
4 六年过去以后， 好象还有一些中国人没看够老外。 有一天我在街上走着。 一个骑车的 男人从我身边 过去， 回过头来看我。 他前边有一辆装满白菜的卡车。 我指着卡车， 拼命想让他 明白他面临的 危险境地， 可是－－－白搭！车上的白菜倒是没事， 可他却要花几分钟擦掉 额头上的血。
5 那天我是出门买红糖的， 可是我忘了中文怎么说。 我知道 “sugar”是 “糖”，“brown” 是 “咖啡色”。 我走进一家挺大的国营商店， 东瞧西瞧。 我不知道糖在什么柜台， 有个女店员和颜悦色地问我买什么。 “咖啡色糖，”我说。 她看了同事一眼， 然后告诉我到下一个柜台去。 在那个柜台， 服务员给我拿来的是三合一速溶咖啡。 “不不不， 我不是要加糖和奶粉的咖啡， 只要糖， 咖啡色的糖。” 她们又研究了一会儿， 这回给我拿来的是咖啡和糖。 还是不对！我正要走， 另一个店员已经想出了一个绝妙的答案。 她很自豪地发现了我这个老外要买的东西是什么： 咖啡味儿的块儿糖！ （中文里“糖” 也指 块儿糖）。我真不知道是该笑还是该哭， 不过我还是谢了她们， 用法语告诉她们我第二天再来。
6 我出门时， 无意中看到一些装着可能是红糖的深色东西的袋子。 我问服务员： “那是什么？”
7 “红糖，” 那个女人说。 真是天无绝人之路！谁会想到 brown sugar 和 black tea 在中国变成了红糖和红茶？
8 我也记得去农贸市场买姜的事。 市场里的农民都笑我 ， 还招呼别的人过来 凑热闹。他们说我 至少得买半磅， 可是我坚持说我只是一个人做饭， 一小块儿就够了。 最后他们决定收我一毛钱， 连约 [yao1] 都没约。 我回家拿刀一切才知道怎么回事儿， 我买的是一个土豆， 一种我从没见过的 土豆。
9 那天回家的时候我也顺便买了鸡蛋。 我会说“鸡蛋”， 但是我根本用不着说。 我只是指着 鸡 蛋说 ：“一斤”。 回到家把鸡蛋往冰箱里放的时候把一个掉在了地上。 奇怪， 居然一点儿 事儿都没 有！ 因为我买的不是鸡蛋， 而是“咸鸭蛋”。这回我的生活中真正开始有了中国经验了。
10 我来中国时一个词儿都不会， 整个儿一个文盲。 中国的建筑从外表看都差不多， 几年以前 尤其如此。 电影院， 商店， 医院， 大学， 食品店， 五金店之间的区别大不到哪儿去。 我不认 字， 所以到处都得不耻下问。 有时候在城里为了确保我没走错路， 我常常这样问：“ 去天安门 是这条路还是那条路？”可是常常马上就会出现一个能说四个英文字 （May I help you) 的热心人， 用中文告诉我坐几路车， 到哪儿下。 有时我得问清楚到我去的地方有多少站。 车上有些人只是 指着车上的路线图而不回答我的问题。 他们想不到一个能说 中文的我却认不得中国字！
11 我最离奇， 最可笑， 最难过的经历往往是在公共汽车上 。我觉得从来不坐公共汽车 的外国人 错过了一个增进社会知识的机会。有一次， 我正朝着某路车的起点站走， 一辆公汽 停到我身边。 门开了， 售票员让我上车。 这是给我这个大鼻子留的又一种优待。 我上了车， 站在售票员面前， 马上掏出钱包准备买票， 可是她却着急地说：“先坐， 快！ 快坐！” 为什么 她要我没买票 就先 坐？为什么她那么紧张？ 三秒钟后我们到了起点站。 车门一开， 我就看见有 百十来号人 争着 抢坐位。 这种情形是我在人群后面司空见惯的， 也是我曾亲身参与的， 但是今天从人群前头看他 们挤车直让我觉得好笑。 要不是我先坐下了， 售票员给老外留 坐位的 好心就白费了。
12 就这样一天又一天， 一年又一年， 通过大大小小的各种经历， 这里的人民成了我自己的 人民， 这个城市成了我自己的城市， 我选择了这个国家， 而这个国家也领养了我。 我先后17次 参加献血， 我的血现在流淌在我的中国“弟兄”的血脉里。 通过希望工程， 我也成了七个孩子 的“妈妈”。我每次去加拿大 或是去欧洲， 我都想家， 想尽快回来。 有一次在石家庄， 一个老人要我买他的花盆。 他说这些花盆回家送朋友再好不过了。 我说我是要回家， 我说我现在住在北京。 他说：“ 我就是这个意思。 北京不是你的家么？” 他说得很对， 北京的确是我的家。
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Well done! Thanks! Here is the English version of "China adopts me."
作者：online nanny - 1999/12/20 23:18:06
***
By Lisa Carducci
Digested from Beijing Weekend
Living in Beijing is an extraordinary experience. I know an American who
was working here. She was not what we can call "madly in love"with China.
When she came back from her holidays in the United States, I asked
her,"Have you had a good time?" She said, "Oh, It was so booooooring;
everything there is so predictable!"
It's only from that day on that she started to appreciate the chance she had
living here and watching the continuous development of China, day by day.
If you have landed in China more than one week ago, you know what" Lao
Way" means. (Just in case, it means "old foreigner.") At my first trip to China
in 1985, we spent one night at the Great Wall Hotel. The next morning, there
were more than one hundred Chinese people at the gate, waiting for ...us!
Looking at foreigners getting on the bus seemed to be a great show.
Everywhere during our trip, other Chinese surrounded us, examined our
clothes and what we were buying or trying to buy. They even gawked at the
writing of those who were taking notes, or judged our skillfulness in
manipulating chopsticks, and touched our "yellow" hair.
Six years later, it seems that there were still some Chinese who had not seem
enough foreigners to be satisfied. I was walking along a street. A man on his
bicycle passed me, and turned his head to look at me. But there was a truck
full of cabbages in front of him. Pointing at the truck, I tried desperately to
attract his attention on the danger he was running into, but....unsuccessfully.
The cabbages didn't complain, but he stayed a few minutes wiping the blood
on his forehead.
That day, I was going to buy brown sugar, but I had forgotten its Chinese
name. I knew that sugar is "tang" and brown is "coffee color." I entered a
large State owned store, and looked around. I had no idea where the sugar
was, but a saleswoman kindly asked me what I wanted to buy. "Kafei se
tang"(coffee color sugar). I answered. After a glance to her colleagues, she
sent me to the next counter, where I was offered 3 in 1 instant coffee. "No, I
don't want coffee with sugar and milk, only sugar, coffee color sugar." A
new consultation between them, and they gave me coffee AND sugar. No,
not yet! I was about to leave the store when another seller had had a brilliant
idea. She was proud to have discovered what the foreigner wanted. Coffee
flavor candies! (Tang also means candy) I didn't know if I should laugh or
cry, but I thanked them and said, in French, that I would have to come back
the next day.
I was walking out of the store when I saw some bags containing a very dark
substance that could have been brown sugar. I asked,"What is that?"
"Zhe shi hong tang"(This is red sugar)said the woman. There is always a
solution! Who would have thought the brown sugar and the black tea were
red sugar and red tea in China?
I also remember the day I went to the market for a piece of ginger. The
peasants at the markets all laughed at me, calling the others to join the show.
They said I had to buy at least half a pound, but I insisted: I was alone and
needed only one little piece. At the end, they decided to charge me on jiao,
without weighting it. I understood what I had done when I arrived home and
started to slice the ginger, it was a potato, a kind I had never seen before.
The same day on my way back I also bought eggs. I knew the word "jidan"
but didn't even have to use it. I just pointed at the eggs and asked for "yi jin".
Putting the eggs in the refrigerator, once at home, I dropped one on the floor.
Surprise! No disaster because I had bought "xian ya dan"(salted duck
eggs). The Chinese experience was entering my life1
Coming to China without a single word of Chinese, I felt completely illiterate.
Seen from outside, especially a few years ago, a cinema and a store, a
hospital and a university, a food or hardware shop didn't offer obvious
differences. I could not read, so I always had to ask. Sometimes, in town,
to make sure I was going in the right direction, I used to ask people,"Is Tian
An Men this way or that way?" But there was immediately a generous soul
who could say four words in English (May I help you?"), that started to
explain to me (in Chinese) which bus to take, where to get off, etc.
Sometimes, I had to ask how many stops for the place I wanted to go. Some
people at the bus stop just pointed to the route plan without answering. They
could not imagine that I could speak but not read!
Buses are the place I had the most strange, funny or sad experiences. I think
that foreigners who never take public buses miss a rich opportunity of
increasing their social knowledge. Once, I was walking towards the first stop
of a bus line when the bus stopped beside me, the door opened and the
ticket vendor invited me to get on, another privilege reserved to my long
nose. Standing in front of her, I immediately look my wallet and wanted to
buy my ticket, but very excited, she said, "Xian zuo, kuai! Kuai zuo!"(Sit at
first! be quick! ) Why did she want me to sit instead of paying? Why was
she so nervous? Three seconds later we were at the first stop. When the
doors opened, I saw one hundred poeple fighting to get a seat, a show that I
was used to seeing(and taking part in) from behind but that make me laugh
when I saw it from the front. If I had not sat down, the efforts of the ticket
vendor to provide a seat to the foreigner would have been in vain.
Day by day and year after year, through little things and more significant ones,
these people have become my people, this city has become mine, and I have
adopted this country as it has adopted me. The blood I donated 17 times
runs in the veins of my Chinese "brothers," and I became a "mother" for seven
children through Project Hope. When I go to Canada or to Europe, I miss
my home and am eager to come back. Once in Shijiazhuang, and old man
wanted me to buy his pots. He said they would be a nice gift for friends
when I would go back home. I answered that I was going home, that I was
now living in Beijing. He added, "That's what I mean. Isn't Beijing you home
now?" He was right, Beijing is my home.
Source: http://cbw.com/icic/011/life.html
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