that.
This was the same security department where I had come to report the attempted rape. Now I just wanted my watch back. My father was pressuring me to come home for a visit, and I knew he would notice if I wasn’t wearing my watch. Remembering how upset he’d been when I had made him waste the valuable bag of grain with the foster family, I did not want to disappoint him again. I had to have my watch back before I could go home.
Despite all the shouting and insults, I went back again and again for my watch. Each time I got a new story, a new runaround, along with more humiliation. The saleswoman must have had some influence over this vicious man because all her wrath was poured out through him.
The security officer also used his authority to investigate Feng and me. He quickly ferreted out Feng’s arrest on January 1 and my report of the attempted rape. Unpleasant rumors began to circulate about both of us. So, instead of getting my watch back, we were being slandered by rumor and innuendo.
I continued to return to the department, until one day I demanded to see the top official, a man in his sixties with a kind face and a patient demeanor. He reminded me of the early members of the Chinese Communist Party, who used to evoke trust and respect from people who went to them for help. The man listened as once again I explained what had happened at the store. Then he asked me the name of the officer who had handled the matter. It was a risk on my part, but I had no choice. When I told him the man’s name, he said nothing more. He asked me to wait while he went next door. A few minutes later, he came back with my watch.
Later that day I bought my train ticket home.
These experiences deeply wounded me. They broke my spirit and undercut my pride. When the saleswoman attacked my reputation, it went straight to my heart. And when the rumors began to fly, I felt surrounded by a cloud of condemnation with no way to vindicate myself. My only choice was to suck it up and endure.
On the way to the train station, Feng told me the head of his department had asked him whether he knew what kind of woman I was. When Feng assured him he did, the director urged him to think twice about his involvement with me, as if he were offering advice to his son. I felt powerless to defend myself. And I felt injured and betrayed—because, as Feng told me all this, I could hear a certain doubt in his voice, a hesitation, as if he could not quite summon up the conviction that all the rumors were false.
9
Resolutions
Aboard the train, the seats and aisles were packed with sweaty passengers. The dusty air reeked of body odor and cigarettes. I squeezed into a corner, with my hands on the frame of the overhead luggage rack, and rested my head on my shoulder for the long ride home.
Crush, crush, crush. The voice of the train spoke to me as we hurtled along the track. Four years earlier my father had brought me to Beida on this very train. Then he was beaming with joy, confident in the vision he entertained of my great future. Now, after all my studying and training, I was bringing back nothing but broken dreams and a bleeding heart.
At Beida, when I transferred to the psychology department, I believed people could be healed through the help of others, and I was ready to charge out into society to use what I had learned to help and to heal—just as my parents had once been sent to the countryside to rescue the poor and the sick. Now that I was the one in need of rescue, the people I encountered seemed hateful and cruel. I felt confused and weak. If I could not even save myself, how could I save anyone else?
Crush, crush, crush. In my misery, as I thought about all that had happened, I blamed myself. It was only a watch, after all. I could have let it go. It did not have to become the agent of my destruction. Instead, my future graduate studies were now in question, and so was my relationship with Feng. A simple, well-intentioned visit
This was the same security department where I had come to report the attempted rape. Now I just wanted my watch back. My father was pressuring me to come home for a visit, and I knew he would notice if I wasn’t wearing my watch. Remembering how upset he’d been when I had made him waste the valuable bag of grain with the foster family, I did not want to disappoint him again. I had to have my watch back before I could go home.
Despite all the shouting and insults, I went back again and again for my watch. Each time I got a new story, a new runaround, along with more humiliation. The saleswoman must have had some influence over this vicious man because all her wrath was poured out through him.
The security officer also used his authority to investigate Feng and me. He quickly ferreted out Feng’s arrest on January 1 and my report of the attempted rape. Unpleasant rumors began to circulate about both of us. So, instead of getting my watch back, we were being slandered by rumor and innuendo.
I continued to return to the department, until one day I demanded to see the top official, a man in his sixties with a kind face and a patient demeanor. He reminded me of the early members of the Chinese Communist Party, who used to evoke trust and respect from people who went to them for help. The man listened as once again I explained what had happened at the store. Then he asked me the name of the officer who had handled the matter. It was a risk on my part, but I had no choice. When I told him the man’s name, he said nothing more. He asked me to wait while he went next door. A few minutes later, he came back with my watch.
Later that day I bought my train ticket home.
These experiences deeply wounded me. They broke my spirit and undercut my pride. When the saleswoman attacked my reputation, it went straight to my heart. And when the rumors began to fly, I felt surrounded by a cloud of condemnation with no way to vindicate myself. My only choice was to suck it up and endure.
On the way to the train station, Feng told me the head of his department had asked him whether he knew what kind of woman I was. When Feng assured him he did, the director urged him to think twice about his involvement with me, as if he were offering advice to his son. I felt powerless to defend myself. And I felt injured and betrayed—because, as Feng told me all this, I could hear a certain doubt in his voice, a hesitation, as if he could not quite summon up the conviction that all the rumors were false.
9
Resolutions
Aboard the train, the seats and aisles were packed with sweaty passengers. The dusty air reeked of body odor and cigarettes. I squeezed into a corner, with my hands on the frame of the overhead luggage rack, and rested my head on my shoulder for the long ride home.
Crush, crush, crush. The voice of the train spoke to me as we hurtled along the track. Four years earlier my father had brought me to Beida on this very train. Then he was beaming with joy, confident in the vision he entertained of my great future. Now, after all my studying and training, I was bringing back nothing but broken dreams and a bleeding heart.
At Beida, when I transferred to the psychology department, I believed people could be healed through the help of others, and I was ready to charge out into society to use what I had learned to help and to heal—just as my parents had once been sent to the countryside to rescue the poor and the sick. Now that I was the one in need of rescue, the people I encountered seemed hateful and cruel. I felt confused and weak. If I could not even save myself, how could I save anyone else?
Crush, crush, crush. In my misery, as I thought about all that had happened, I blamed myself. It was only a watch, after all. I could have let it go. It did not have to become the agent of my destruction. Instead, my future graduate studies were now in question, and so was my relationship with Feng. A simple, well-intentioned visit
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