first. They seemed to be the people in real authority at the Dance Academy, teachers and administrators. Each girl was asked a few questions by one of these older people.
“Why do you want to come to the Beijing Dance Academy?” a short round woman with gray hair asked Zhongmei.
“Because I love dance,” Zhongmei said, feeling that it was a silly question with an all-too-obvious answer: because she would have a much more exciting life here than back home in Baoquanling, but she didn’t say that.
“Have you performed before?”
“Oh, yes, I performed a lot in my hometown.”
“It’s a rather small place, your hometown. You really had chances to perform there?”
“Yes, lots of chances,” Zhongmei said quite honestly. “I sang almost every day, and I danced a lot too with the Propaganda Brigade.”
“Are you ready to work very hard?”
“Yes,” Zhongmei said.
“I mean really hard, harder than most people will ever have to work in their lives,” the woman said. “This school is not for fun. It’s to train the best professional dancers in China, and I can tell you, it’s going to hurt every day. Are you really ready for that?”
“I’m ready!” Zhongmei exclaimed.
“Are you sure? I can promise you it will be the hardest thing you’ll ever do. You’ll be so tired at the end of the day you almost won’t be able to change into your pajamas and get intobed. And if you don’t do well, you’ll be sent home, and you’ll never come back.”
“I’m sure,” Zhongmei said.
“OK,” the woman said. “I’m going to pass you into the fourth stage. Come back tomorrow at eight o’clock and be prepared to perform a dance you know. Go to studio eight. Maybe there’s something you did in Bao … what was it?”
“Baoquanling,” Zhongmei reminded her.
“Yes, there,” the woman said. “You’ll need music. Do you have music?”
“No,” said Zhongmei.
“You didn’t come with sheet music?”
“No, I didn’t know I was supposed to.”
“Well, I guess they don’t know much up there in Bao … whatever,” the woman said. “You say you used to sing.”
“Yes.”
“Then be prepared to accompany yourself by singing. It’s a little unusual, but maybe the judges will remember you better that way.” The woman smiled. “Good luck,” she said.
9
“Have I Done All This for Nothing?”
O n the next morning, there were hundreds of girls already forming a line in front of the Dance Academy entrance. It was a bit like the first day, though with fewer people. Parents and brothers and sisters nervously stood with their daughters and sisters under the row of locust trees on the street outside. As always, only Zhongmei was alone. She could see a long line of boys extending down the street on the opposite side of the gate. She waited and waited, rehearsing in her mind the dance she had practiced in Baoquanling from
The Red Detachment of Women
, a ballet about a girl chained in a dungeon by an evil landlord. She escapes and joins the revolutionary army led by Chairman Mao. Zhongmei had often sung one of the songs from the opera over the town loudspeaker—“Forward, forward under the banner of Mao Zedong; forward to victory”—and while the lyrics were pretty simple, she went over them again now, just to be sure that if she was seized with panic, she wouldn’t forget them. While she hummed, she felt the dancemovements inside her even though she didn’t actually do them out there on the sidewalk.
“What’s your name?” a girl next to her asked, interrupting her reverie. She was a little shorter and a little plumper than Zhongmei. She wore a black blouse printed with bright red butterflies that matched perfectly with a tailored red skirt. “I’m Wang Tianyuan.”
“Li Zhongmei,” Zhongmei said, and smiled, glad to have some company.
“I came from Shanghai with my grandmother,” Tianyuan said. She nodded at a short, chubby woman wearing a well-tailored Mao suit standing
“Why do you want to come to the Beijing Dance Academy?” a short round woman with gray hair asked Zhongmei.
“Because I love dance,” Zhongmei said, feeling that it was a silly question with an all-too-obvious answer: because she would have a much more exciting life here than back home in Baoquanling, but she didn’t say that.
“Have you performed before?”
“Oh, yes, I performed a lot in my hometown.”
“It’s a rather small place, your hometown. You really had chances to perform there?”
“Yes, lots of chances,” Zhongmei said quite honestly. “I sang almost every day, and I danced a lot too with the Propaganda Brigade.”
“Are you ready to work very hard?”
“Yes,” Zhongmei said.
“I mean really hard, harder than most people will ever have to work in their lives,” the woman said. “This school is not for fun. It’s to train the best professional dancers in China, and I can tell you, it’s going to hurt every day. Are you really ready for that?”
“I’m ready!” Zhongmei exclaimed.
“Are you sure? I can promise you it will be the hardest thing you’ll ever do. You’ll be so tired at the end of the day you almost won’t be able to change into your pajamas and get intobed. And if you don’t do well, you’ll be sent home, and you’ll never come back.”
“I’m sure,” Zhongmei said.
“OK,” the woman said. “I’m going to pass you into the fourth stage. Come back tomorrow at eight o’clock and be prepared to perform a dance you know. Go to studio eight. Maybe there’s something you did in Bao … what was it?”
“Baoquanling,” Zhongmei reminded her.
“Yes, there,” the woman said. “You’ll need music. Do you have music?”
“No,” said Zhongmei.
“You didn’t come with sheet music?”
“No, I didn’t know I was supposed to.”
“Well, I guess they don’t know much up there in Bao … whatever,” the woman said. “You say you used to sing.”
“Yes.”
“Then be prepared to accompany yourself by singing. It’s a little unusual, but maybe the judges will remember you better that way.” The woman smiled. “Good luck,” she said.
9
“Have I Done All This for Nothing?”
O n the next morning, there were hundreds of girls already forming a line in front of the Dance Academy entrance. It was a bit like the first day, though with fewer people. Parents and brothers and sisters nervously stood with their daughters and sisters under the row of locust trees on the street outside. As always, only Zhongmei was alone. She could see a long line of boys extending down the street on the opposite side of the gate. She waited and waited, rehearsing in her mind the dance she had practiced in Baoquanling from
The Red Detachment of Women
, a ballet about a girl chained in a dungeon by an evil landlord. She escapes and joins the revolutionary army led by Chairman Mao. Zhongmei had often sung one of the songs from the opera over the town loudspeaker—“Forward, forward under the banner of Mao Zedong; forward to victory”—and while the lyrics were pretty simple, she went over them again now, just to be sure that if she was seized with panic, she wouldn’t forget them. While she hummed, she felt the dancemovements inside her even though she didn’t actually do them out there on the sidewalk.
“What’s your name?” a girl next to her asked, interrupting her reverie. She was a little shorter and a little plumper than Zhongmei. She wore a black blouse printed with bright red butterflies that matched perfectly with a tailored red skirt. “I’m Wang Tianyuan.”
“Li Zhongmei,” Zhongmei said, and smiled, glad to have some company.
“I came from Shanghai with my grandmother,” Tianyuan said. She nodded at a short, chubby woman wearing a well-tailored Mao suit standing
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