I feel that you ought to learn your mother’s feelings. Although she wishes that you were with her, she doesn’t want you to follow in her footsteps. She prefers that you make your life in America. I certainly don’t share those feelings, but I thought that you should know.
Another letter of yours arrived today. I understand that you and Lossing have applied as a couple to the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions, and that Lossing was granted the appointment to China as an agricultural missionary. Forgive me for being selfishly joyful, but this is more wonderful news. I can’t wait to see you again.
I have been thinking about returning to Chin-kiang. Life in Shanghai has been exciting, but I feel like a lotus pad floating on the surface—rootless. Every day I speak about helping my country, but in truth I have achieved little of significance. I have been working menial jobs just to cover living expenses. My days are spent discussing politics and shouting for reform. The Republican Party provides a forum for exhibiting one’s debating talent. It is best suited for those who love the sound of their own voices.
I fear I am turning into a teahouse revolutionary. Increasingly, I am aware of how different I am from my comrades. They have been scholars and students all their lives. I have learned much in the last two years, but at heart I am still a girl from the small town of Chin-kiang. I have lived outside the world of books. I have worked, sometimes only to put food in my stomach. It has made me impatient with idealists and dreamers, however well intentioned. Many of my comrades can’t be prevented from rushing to their own destruction. How can they save their country when they themselves are lost?
You have written to suggest that I “meet people where they are.” I am trying. I have always envied your ability to find healing in people’s very presence. You see humanity and kindness in all people. I see the same thing only rarely. Your mother is an example.
You are a different creature than your parents. I understood when you said that you “live in many mansions.” I am trying to bring down the walls of my own culture. Being a Chinese woman, I am prone to certain sentiments. I try not to be as sour as our famous Chin-kiang brown vinegar. I love my country, so much so that I hate her for not being all I want her to be.
I am thinking about establishing a local newspaper when I return to Chin-kiang. I am counting on your contributions.
Love,
Willow
CHAPTER 11
The Nanking railroad station had stood as a witness to wars and sorrow. Built in 1894, it had gone through destruction and restoration several times. The station had a small waiting room and a ticket booth.
Carie wasn’t really healthy enough to travel, but she wanted to be there when Pearl got off the train. The prospect of hosting her daughter’s wedding had given her new energy.
The manager of the train station was a Christian. He invited Carie to rest inside his little ticket booth. “Although it is March, madame, the cold air outside might make you sick.”
Carie didn’t want to go inside until the man told her that the train was going to be late.
We waited. After two and a half hours, we heard the sound of the approaching train. Excited, I ran outside.
The old steam engine puffed smoke and made terrifying sounds. My heart raced in anticipation. It had been four years since Pearl and I had last seen each other. I knew that I was not the same person she had left behind. I wore a fashionable navy blue jacket with a low collar and a matching skirt. I had on a pair of black leather boots.
The train came to a stop. Passengers started to come out. I spotted my friend instantly, although something felt amiss. It had never occurred to me before that Pearl was a foreigner. She stood out among the Chinese crowd. She was accompanied by Lossing Buck, who was tall and brown-haired. I watched Pearl search the crowd, and her eyes stopped on me.
“Willow, is that you?” Pearl cried. “I can barely recognize you, a fashionable Shanghai lady!”
“Pearl!” I embraced her. “This is you—I’m not dreaming!”
Pearl turned around and introduced Lossing Buck.
We shook hands, but my eyes wouldn’t leave Pearl. Her blue jacket and tight skirt made her look like a model in a Western magazine. The design of her clothes showed that she was proud of her full figure. I remembered that she used to feel awkward about her developing breasts.
Lossing was about Pearl’s age, twenty-six years old. He had a long face with a big square jaw. He had a thin-lipped mouth and a high nose. His large eyes were deep set and brown. He was friendly and apologized that he didn’t speak Chinese.
“Where is Mother?” Pearl asked.
“She is in the ticket booth waiting for—” Before I finished the sentence, I saw Pearl’s smile freeze as her eyes looked past me. Shock flooded her face. I turned and saw that Carie had come outside of the booth.
Later on Pearl told me how crushed she felt the moment she saw her mother. I should have warned her that Carie had shrunk to the size of a child.
Carie had powdered her face and rouged her cheeks and lips. But it didn’t help. She looked gravely ill and ghostly. Her missing side teeth made her cheeks look hollow, as if she were permanently inhaling. Her skin was dry and waxy. She insisted on painting her eyebrows herself. They were visibly uneven. The right eyebrow was higher than the left.
“Mother!” Pearl cried, throwing herself at Carie.
Smiling, Carie addressed her daughter as her tears ran. “God is good, my daughter.”
Carie stood straight, as if her illness was gone. “Let’s go,” she said. “Your father is waiting in Chin-kiang.” She told Pearl and Lossing that she had already made all the arrangements for their wedding.
On the train back to Chin-kiang, Carie fell asleep on Lossing’s shoulder. I sat with Pearl across the aisle and insisted that she share the story of her romance. She had met Lossing on a ship. She told me Lossing had been on a Chinese-language tour, and Pearl was returning to China from America via Europe. During the voyage, they had several weeks to become acquainted.
“How did he court you?” I asked.
“With his China studies,” she said, laughing. “Lossing’s academic work outlines what he plans to do in China. The title of his degree thesis is Chinese Farm Economy and Land Utilization in China. Lossing’s plan is to live in China and conduct experiments that will help the peasants.”
It was easy for me to imagine how my friend had been swept off her feet.
“When Lossing told me that Chinese peasants would be freed from their backbreaking labor if his methods succeed, I fell in love with him. Lossing was fascinated by my life growing up in China. When he realized I spoke so many Chinese dialects, he proposed right away.”
“When did you say yes?” I asked.
“Just after I found out that Lossing’s Chinese would never get him anywhere. He is tone-deaf. How can you be tone-deaf and learn Chinese?”
“So he needs you.”
“I need him, too. I haven’t been able to fall in love with any man in America, to tell you the truth.” Pearl said that she had made efforts to date, but she had felt like a foreigner in America. “I spoke English, but I didn’t understand the culture. I felt out of place and confused. What we would consider rude in China, Americans consider attractive. My relatives thought that I was strange and I thought that they were strange. On the surface, I got along with everybody, but inside I was lonely. For the entire four years I felt that way. I was afraid that I might never like a man enough to marry him. In the meantime, my Chinese mind told me that I’d better hurry or I’d end up an old maid.”
“Lossing’s timing is perfect,” I commented.
“Yes, China brought us together. God has answered my prayers. Lossing and I couldn’t be more blessed!”
For Pearl’s sake, I hoped that she was right.
I sensed that Pearl had given up America to come back and care for her mother. I asked if it was the truth.
She admitted that Carie was an important reason why she returned
. “I love America, but not enough to stay,” she said.
“You can go back to America anytime you want, can’t you?”
“That’s true. But Lossing is like Absalom. He is determined to die in China.” She laughed. Her eyes were radiant with cloudless pleasure.
The first time I witnessed Pearl and Lossing’s differences was at their wedding. Pearl was wearing a Western wedding gown, while Lossing wore a dark suit. Pearl held a bouquet of flowers picked that morning from Carie’s garden. As Pearl was led to the church, the town’s children sang American songs Carie had taught them. Afterward they sang the Chinese wedding song, which delighted Pearl because she used to sing the song as a child.
Buddha sits on a lotus pad,
Beautiful fingers orchidlike.
Sun goes down and moon comes up,
May your life be peaceful and tranquil.
Mud walls and straw pillows,
Fruits, seeds, and many sons.
Happiness and longevity,
May you have the spring and all its fair weather.
Lossing didn’t care for the song. When our friends from the Wan-Wan Tunes troupe came to congratulate the couple and performed the popular musical The Pig’s Wedding, Lossing became upset.
While Pearl felt honored, Lossing felt humiliated. He didn’t like the pig bridegroom, although the character was a hero in the classic Chinese novel Journey to the West. I could tell that Lossing’s offense and lack of humor bothered Pearl, but she didn’t make a show of it.
Carie had planned the wedding to the last detail. Besides Papa, Carpenter Chan, Lilac, and many of her other Chinese friends, Carie invited the English consul, the embassy doctor, their wives, and her other missionary friends. Carie didn’t expect the entire town of Chin-kiang to invite itself. However, the Chinese believe that a good wedding must be packed, and the townspeople felt that Carie’s daughter deserved everyone’s blessing.
Pearl wanted me to be the hostess. She didn’t care that I had been married before. But all the women in town, myself included, thought it was a bad idea. I was considered abandoned by my husband, and therefore I was bad luck for a new bride. Instead Pearl asked me to hire the local chefs and pick the size and color of the melons and fruits that would be piled throughout the entrance and hallway. It was important in Chinese custom to invite all the gods by displaying the symbols of festivity and fertility.
Seeds, nuts, and fruits were thrown at the couple as soon as Pearl and Lossing were pronounced husband and wife. The church courtyard was overflowing with cheerful people. I helped Carie as she gave candies to people and thanked them for coming.
Led by Papa, the crowd paraded through the town. We arrived at Absalom and Carie’s house. The new couple’s room was on the second floor. The pink curtains and the beautiful Persian rug were from Carie’s own room. The banquet was to be held downstairs, where nine courses of Chinese dishes would be served.
Pink-cheeked and in a red Chinese dress, Pearl came downstairs and served tea. She lit cigarettes for the elderly and placed jasmine buds in the palms of young children. Outside, there was the sound of firecrackers. This was to invite good omens. The local band started to play.
Lossing said in English that he didn’t want to play clown and be pushed around by a Chinese crowd. He wanted no part of what he called their “silly games.” It was no use that the locals kept cheering. Pearl ended up apologizing for Lossing.
Told by their parents to help inspire fertility, children hid themselves under the wedding-night bed. They were chased away by Lossing.
Lossing was disgusted when he saw all the chopsticks reaching toward the same plate. He said he would rather starve.
When Pearl encouraged Lossing to taste her favorite Chin-kiang sesame candy, Lossing pointed out the seller’s dirt-filled fingernails and gave Pearl a lesson on how disease spreads.
Pearl was confident that Lossing would soon get used to the Chinese culture. She never doubted that she could create harmony in her marriage. She had faith in Lossing’s ability to understand. “After all, he graduated from Cornell,” she told me.
At Lossing’s request, Pearl accompanied him into the countryside. Lossing began his agricultural project by surveying the land. Pearl became his personal assistant, interpreter, guide, interviewer, field secretary, and footman. She got up at dawn and worked with Lossing in the fields until nightfall.
As I had feared, it didn’t take long for Pearl to lose her enthusiasm. She found herself fighting the widening gap between herself and her husband.
“Conflict is a sign of a healthy relationship,” she said when I asked about her marriage. It pleased her that Lossing was getting what he needed. Pearl wanted to fulfill the role of a good wife. She made it her duty to be pleasant and cheerful.
“Lossing carries far too heavy a burden,” she told me. “His well-being depends on me.” She wouldn’t admit that he didn’t even notice what she cooked for him. Unlike the Chinese, who lived to eat, Lossing ate to live.
While Carie accepted Lossing, Absalom began to have trouble. He disapproved of Lossing’s interference with the way Chinese peasants did their business. The two fought often and finally quit speaking to each other.
Pearl was right that there were similarities between Absalom and Lossing. Absalom’s mission was to save Chinese souls, and Lossing’s mission was to fix Chinese farming methods. Absalom believed that the Christian God ought to be the only God. Lossing believed that his farming method was the best.
But Pearl had her doubts. She said to Lossing, “The Chinese have survived, farming for thousands of years, on the same land and by the most skillful use of fertilizers and irrigation. They produce extraordinary yields without modern machinery!”
The couple moved away soon after Lossing’s proposal was approved by the governor of Anhui province. Lossing didn’t take the governor’s advice to move after the winter. He couldn’t stand Absalom another minute.
Reluctantly, Pearl followed Lossing. They moved to a town north of Chin-kiang called Nanhsuchou, in Anhui province. Pearl didn’t want to leave her mother behind. I asked Pearl why Lossing had to go to the poorest province in China. “Why can’t he find a better place to conduct his project?”
“The farmers of fertile southern land are satisfied with their ways,” Pearl explained. “They are not interested in Lossing’s experiments.”
The governor of the poor province supported Lossing’s ideas because he had little to lose. The governor would gain all the benefit if Lossing succeeded. What Lossing needed was the commitment of the farmers to follow his methods. To make it all work, the governor promised to compensate the farmers if Lossing’s experiment failed.
After a few weeks, I went north and visited Pearl to see how she was faring. Her new home was a two-room cottage. It had previously been occupied by a Christian missionary family. Pearl’s door and windows didn’t keep out the dust. No matter how hard she cleaned, within hours the inside of her house would be covered by a new layer of dust. Pearl’s neighbors were Chinese peasant families. They lived in horrible poverty. Pearl told me that she was grateful for the roof over her head.
“Moisture seeped through my walls last month,” she said. She showed me the mold that grew underneath her bed and between her mats and sheets. “I have to always be careful when opening the chamber pot.” She tried to sound lighthearted. “I never know what could be hunting for food in there. It could be a giant spider or a grandmother stinkbug.”
The second time I visited Pearl, she shared with me the exciting news that she was pregnant. “I am finally released from my official duties for the agriculturalist.”
“The agriculturalist” was what Pearl had started to call Lossing. “I thought when I got married I would no longer have to take orders like I did from my father when I was a child.”
As a way to escape her troubles, Pearl began to write. She found comfort in writing. She told me that her imagination was the only place where she could be herself and be free.
I knew she had a zest for stories. Charles Dickens was her inspiration. I remembered the first time we met that she held in her hand a black leather-bound book, which she later told me was A Tale of Two Cities. She loved Oliver Twist, Bleak House, and The Pickwick Papers. She read the stories so many times that she could practically recite them. She had always enjoyed writing and had won awards for her work when she was at Randolph-Macon Woman’s College in America. She knew that she had to keep her writing a secret. Absalom had made it clear to her that serving God was the only purpose of living. Lossing made Pearl feel guilty for pursuing anything of her own interest. He wanted her to continue to be his interpreter and was upset when she refused. Pearl joked, “Am I conditioned to a man’s dominance?”
Using pregnancy as an excuse, Pearl wrote whenever Lossing wasn’t around. She no longer complained about Lossing’s long trips that took him away for months at a time. She learned to be alone and to keep discontent locked inside herself.
Pearl confessed to me that she feared she was becoming Carie—in exile in her own home. As she made friends with the neighboring peasants, her writings began to fill with their stories.
“It’s a shame that China’s intellectuals prefer fantasy over realism,”
Pearl wrote to me. “It’s easier to close one’s eyes on disease and death.”
I wrote back and told her that my newspaper, the Chin-kiang Independent, had finally launched. Pearl promised to contribute a monthly column. Using a Chinese man’s name, Wei Liang, she discussed politics, economics, history, literature, and women’s issues. Her articles were well received. Although the distribution was pitiful, we felt proud that we had a voice of our own.