theotherchengirl-blog

[theotherchengirl-blog]

初春的，北威尔士

你总是知道自己到威尔士了。铁路一旁房子前的垂直花园，一个男人手持喷壶，站在他这小梯田的第三层，打理那些美妙的绿叶。车窗外一座天桥，是墨绿、朱红和纯白三色组成的，就像那面红龙国旗。那面旗帜总给我一种中世纪魔法世界的感觉，特别是经过一个镇子，他们的旗帜是黑底红龙，魔幻感更加明显了。起初我还纠结称之为国旗是否正确，但威尔士人毫不在意。英伦三岛中，爱尔兰和苏格兰都闹过独立，只有威尔士，从来都是既来之、则安之，开开心心地过自己的小��子。

铁路的一段紧靠海岸线，爱尔兰如镜面般海幽蓝平静。我们拍了不少动图，那天天气真好。一周前我睡不着，无意中看到一条微博对威尔士景点的介绍，登山小火车、中世纪废墟、二手书之镇、悬崖上的灯塔、闹鬼的古堡、仙女居住的峡谷。我从没听说过威尔士是这么有趣，爬起来做了攻略，做完已近四点，心满意足躺下，但也没能睡着，因为突然想起了小万。

我是最近才真正开始懂他，一个十几岁的孩子，折腾十多二十个小时来到英国，孤零零地在伦敦准备A-Level。后来在布里斯托尔那种除了热气球啥也没有的地方读书，不知道多努力才申请到帝国理工的实验室名额。漫长的假期去过很多地方，有时实在找不到旅伴，就告诉自己一个大男人自己旅行也挺好。他就是这样成长为我四年前遇到的小万，计划行程事无巨细，仿佛手握这个世界的一本说明书。我就提个行李跟着他游完了大半个斯里兰卡。行程是他定的，离海最近的民宿是他找的，观鲸船是他订的，最后没观成还是他去维的权。他身上我喜欢的那些特质，似乎都受教于残酷矛盾的生活，比如善交际却又持重，幽默而又神秘，博闻强识、却仍对这世界充满孩童般的好奇，既正直勇敢、又通晓市井那些弯弯绕绕。他是我想解开的一个谜，只恐将来各行其道，没有这个机会了。想着想着，突然觉���没有他的日子真寂寞、而且事事都要自己搞定。后来我为了摊房费约上了几个女同学，都是性格好不麻烦的类型，对我提出的所有行程住宿安排都表示满意。多人同行的好处就在于，两个人出行，总想用对话填满每一分钟，而三到四个人，就可以沉默地呆着。

我们第一晚宿在兰迪德诺。这个地方从维多利亚时期就是度假胜地，有300多家住宿加早餐旅馆，数量比当地居民房还多。听说旺季的主干道和海岸线都是车水马龙，我们三月初这时候来，是淡季中的淡季。这个地方太维多利亚了，新月般的弧形海岸沿线是各种冠以“皇家”“维多利亚”“大酒店”字眼的酒店，漆成不同的颜色，但大多都是浅色系，显得很精致。

我们四人跟着谷歌地图找旅馆、拉着行李箱上坡。一个刷墙的中年男人见了，向我问好，我告诉他对这个城市的初印象——“真美”。很多威尔士人都有天蓝色透明玻璃球般的眼睛，性情温和友善，自来熟，会主动帮忙。我们住的家庭旅馆是一个三层楼的白房子，俯瞰海滩。内部装潢也很有味道，昏暗浪漫，玫瑰花窗阳台配蓝色绒布椅，公共客厅的布置紧凑温馨，四张皮沙发围着一个放鲜花的矮茶几。入住时老板娘问我车牌号是多少，我噗嗤一笑，说我们是坐火车来的。后来的确证明没有车在威尔士寸步难行，公共交通费时费力、一天只够去一个景点。将近傍晚，我们在夕阳下出门找餐厅，见远山一层叠一层，浸在粉紫色的水彩里。这小片海是爱尔兰海的一个小角，或是大西洋一个更小的角，白天那池柔柔的水，七点半夜幕降临后，就水天相接、变成厚实的幕布、深深深深的蓝色。望进去，像世界的一个新月形缺口，再望一眼就要被吸进去。

淡季的周三，大酒店的餐厅还是高朋满座，黑白着装的服务生忙里忙外。这一幕太英国。我已经开始想象波洛或马普尔小姐乘着蒸汽火车，来这样的酒店里住上一月，结果海滩上或者某个酒店房间发生了命案，他们就在阳伞下躺椅上跟人唠嗑、不慌不忙地解决这个案子。

海边十来个人在遛狗，经过我们时都微笑。随导航去到最近的一个酒吧，设在二楼，样子落败，没有一件物品与另一件相配。除了年轻的酒保，这里只有老人和小孩。可我们四个中国女生进去后，他们倒也不惊异。只是我们点了四品脱Guiness之后，那个白发白胡子老人笑道：第一次看到女孩自己付钱买酒。我说，我知道，太可悲了。然后随口问了句，您是做什么的？这句寒暄竟打开了老人的话匣子，他告诉我，他现在退休了，以前是搞音乐的。说着，他拿出一张塑封的报纸复印件，说中间那个就是他。他叫Phill，这年轻时是个送奶工，他们就叫他Phill the milk, 后来喜欢喝酒，改叫Phill the glass。他是六十年代英国一个叫做Kids的乐队的鼓手，虽然他们从不写歌，只表演翻唱。这乐队的名字也有个段子。每当人们问起What do you do for a living? 他便可以回答Oh I play with the Kids。据说，他们乐队的这个名字还刻在利物浦披头士发际的那个酒吧墙上，进门右手边。Phill说的一些故事真是太符合我对60年代的想象了，比如他们乐队的主唱在主吉他手去世后就娶了人家老婆，比如他们从来没有清醒地上过台。这个周三晚上徘徊在老酒吧、随身携带一张当年勇的老人，在英国摇滚年代的最中心待过。我问他们为何早早解散，他说因为累啊，一个周末六场演出，熬不住。后来他的妻子跟邻居私奔了，儿子是个电焊工，又生了五个孙子女。他请我喝了两杯Worthington啤酒, 撑得我直打嗝，他便学我说半句话打个嗝，还说是为了让我不孤单。真希望他对我的记忆不是“一个不停打嗝的女孩”。当我们快要走时，他问了第三遍——当你去利物浦酒吧，会看到一个乐队的名字叫什么？我说the kids! 那个名字在哪里？我说进门右手边砖头上！

第二天一早，入斯诺登尼亚。这个名字真美，让人觉得是一个坚韧、美丽而神秘的女探险家。等公交时，一个老太太问你们是不是昨天从这个站提着行李一路上坡来着，我笑，看来这海滨小镇人口真是太少了。威尔士地名叫得怪，要不就是开头结尾辅音各写两遍，要不就是中间一个大写Y，结尾再来三四个不同辅音，例如Pentywyn, Llanrwst, Lon Y Gaer, 还有我编的：llaeg-y-wyff。得临时跟着谷歌学念这些名字，才能跟公交司机说明去处。

斯诺登尼亚的盘山公路虽赶不上云贵高原蜿蜒险峻，却有英格兰少见的粗犷。入山就没了信号，时而因颠簸失重，也许是登尼亚要你敬畏。我太小看她了，妄想一天走三四个景点，结果现在哗哗改行程，即兴发挥。于是在兰贝里斯皇家维多利亚酒店（呵呵）入住后，我们去坐了湖景小火车，看蒸汽火车头缓缓脱离车厢、嘟嘟着移到车尾重新接上，就这样掉头出发。我戴上火车司机的帽子跟他拍了张合影，夸赞这是世界上最酷的工作，这张照片怕是要引起谢耳朵嫉妒的。

火车观湖回来后，天还没黑，我们就想去附近那个中世纪软禁王子的孤堡，忽而雨来，在湿泥里摔了两跤，触发了15年的记忆闪回，是我和EE冒着倾盆大雨爬狮子岩，我还学兰卡人穿拖鞋去，结果下来脚一滑摔下台阶，把EE等人吓得哇哇叫。两次都是我一时兴起摔到了尾椎骨，生活不断教我做人，我依然可劲儿地作。那天拍的照我一张也舍不得删，都是泥地里摔两跤换来的。哎即兴也好。行至此处，跟这里的人聊聊天，点一杯Snowden’s Craft，心说有个车就好了，到悬崖灯塔只要46分钟。

第三日早上的早餐令人愉悦。宽敞明亮的餐厅里，从糖渍水果杯、果肉酸奶、新鲜面包，到各式茶饮、滤泡咖啡以及英早那些经典配菜一应俱全。同行的姑娘们说，这样早起慢慢吃早餐的感觉好幸福，还说以后跟人约饭就约早餐。是啊，我也觉得与人共进早餐有一种很特别的氛围。午餐和午餐会像是高尚人士的行为，常常是为在最短时间内敲定一个合同、达成一个交易而设。而晚餐呢，时间跨度太长，基本从6点到10点，适合老友重逢、阖家欢聚、谈情说爱。在英国，约别人吃晚饭基本意味着餐厅电影院酒吧一整套流程，有时吃完饭电影还早，那再加个甜品店。去年刚来时我就是在这方面受到了极大的文化冲击，对方约个晚饭，我欣然答应，结果每回都是吃过饭辗转去酒吧、然后下一个酒吧，没完没了。后来想想，dinner的真正含义大概是指跟相处融洽的人谈天说地，夜幕下，缓缓归。吃什么并不重要。早餐就不一样了，听起来就很积极向上，且含义单纯。无非就是借用你两个小时，互相添茶、讲讲时事和天气，���以香喷喷的羊角包和煎得完美的太阳蛋。吃完了，店门口告别，一个写论文，一个去学习小组。这一天因为有个美好的早餐而阳光起来。那天早餐后我们出发去安格尔西岛，途径班戈，就顺便逛进班戈大学，它的主教学楼是一整座城堡。我们举起相机拍Love Lane, 石阶的两旁盛开着黄水仙。后来经不列颠尼亚桥上岛，第一站是键肺村，全名Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch，一口气念不完，遂得其名。逛完这个镇子的纪念品店就没多少时间了。幸好三个姑娘逛得开心，买完羊羊玩偶又被各种形状颜色的糖果吸引，没有注意到我是一个多么糟糕的领队，带她们走了不少冤枉路，最后到了一个无聊的地方。

最后一日，天气转晴，如愿去到康威堡。威尔士境内有不少中世纪的遗迹和诺曼城堡，康威堡是其中很有名的一座。康威整个小城市被城墙围起，颇有战时堡垒的感觉。每条街都有一两个古董商店，还有康威堡纪念品店，里头随处可见塔罗牌、卢恩石、剑与盔甲，橱窗里一个金属小雕像，是骑士跪在女王面前受封。买门票时我随口一问，昨天3月1日St. David’s Day, 是不是你们特别重要的节日？店员说对，那是我们的国庆日，全威尔士景点都免费。我流着泪付了门票。

有人说戛然而止是世上最糟糕的感觉。离开威尔士的这天我倒没什么特别的感觉，它不是一生只能去一次的地方、也没有特别壮美令人窒息的景色。它的美是平易近人的，是让人回到大城市后路过夜店一条街，会怀念那个路灯都没几盏的小镇子上空无一人的酒馆，怀念油烟弥漫的家庭餐厅里，店主亲自炸的扭薯。会怀念结账后服务生发的巧克力和心形糖，陌生人之间的温柔相待。下次南威尔士见。

[theotherchengirl-blog]

Train to Llandudno, North Wales, with three other girls. 

[theotherchengirl-blog]

摘抄 | 古相思曲-席慕蓉

只缘感君一回顾，使我思君暮与朝

——古乐府

在那样古老的岁月里

也曾有过同样的故事

那弹箜篌的女子也是十六岁吗

还是说 今夜的我

就是那个女子

就是几千年来弹着箜篌等待着的

那一个温柔谦卑的灵魂

就是在莺花烂漫时时蹉跎着哭泣的

那同一个人

那么 就算我流泪了也别笑我软弱

多少个朝代的女子唱着同样的歌

在开满了玉兰的树下曾有过

多少次的别离

而在这温暖的春夜里啊

有多少美丽的声音曾唱过古相思曲

[theotherchengirl-blog]

Inner demons, I’m your girl. 

[theotherchengirl-blog]

Sunlight on Snow

is my favorite scented candle from Yankee Candle.

This big white guy is such an success of synesthesia. The first time I picked it up from the shelf and smelt, I smelt the first beam of sunlight in the first morning after a long, quiet winter, when the green buds are ready to spring out of the carpet of snow, exactly as its name. 

The fragrance is based on lily, but seems like covered by a sheet or something else, not for fully presenting. 

It smells like a safe and warm place, or a steady and loving relationship.

It's like you sit by the window and watch the snow when the one you love hands you the morning coffee. 

It's like you recover from an unfortunate cold and cuddle in a fluffy blanket, when someone brings over lukewarm water and tells some jokes trying to make you laugh. 

It feels like a home, but not the one where you were born, but the one which you found by yourself and decided to stay at. 

Fan-tastic.

[theotherchengirl-blog]

“How many loved your beauty with love false or true,

but one man loved the pilgrim soul in you

and loved the sorrows of your changing face”

---W. B. Yeats

Roses, with so many delicate, silky folds,  are so difficult to draw. And it’s even harder after they withered. A friend brought me this white rose on my birthday. It lasted for one night. But still, she’s beautiful with the cuddled leaves and the sepia-toned petals. she reminds me of a poem of Yeats. I read the Chinese version of it in high school, which is still the best translation in my mind. Too bad it’s not the most popular version. I’ll remember it here:

当你老了，白了头，睡意稠，

炉旁打盹，请记下诗一首

慢回忆，你也曾眼神温柔

有多少人爱你青春靓丽的时候

真假爱，不过被你的容貌引诱

只有一人爱你灵魂深处的圣洁

爱你衰老的脸上，泛起寂寞的纹沟

---translated by an anonymous(whoever he or she is, I’m a fan)

p.s. The second picture just shows an amateur’s approach to reduce the light reflection.

[theotherchengirl-blog]

This is a piece of practice with a picture of olive I found online. How lovely these leaves are. 

[theotherchengirl-blog]

I found Mr. Bee in my laundry bag. He was quite dead. I drew him and buried him with a tailor-made tombstone. 

[theotherchengirl-blog]

On First Day of Winter Time I Woke up with A British Guy

One thing I love about sex, it’s pillow talk.

“Describe me”, I said,” in English”

“I’m thinking a better way to say it cause

I don’t want to be a pervert”

Three days later

He made me Chinese dinner

We carved the pumpkins together,

abandoned his friends and sneaked out for Venom

 He bent his left arm so I held,

fed me chocolates like all boys did

Held my waist at the dark kitchen

Kissed me as an invitation

  “You left some unexplainable bruise on my neck, kid”

“Oh no. sorry. They will fade quit quick. Is it red?”

“Crimson. Good job. “

This one was really a beast.

[theotherchengirl-blog]

琴郎

只是意外地踏入这个夜晚

只是意外地听见你抚琴

你弹高山流水，是否为觅知音？

你狐狸样的丹凤眼望着琴

而我则想，那纤长苍白的手指若是抚过我的背——

你木讷羞涩地，让我推荐一款饮品，说我是仙女，要加我微信

朋友凑过来对我耳语：”他的女朋友在看你。”

你端着那把琴，向听众讲解何为琴背，何为宫商角徵羽

它长长的穗子潇洒地垂向地面

背琴的才子，竟有如负大刀般的月光与剑气

你再度靠近我，还是为了一个联系方式

可琴郎啊，我是只眷恋远方的水鸟

与你相逢的此时，是我稍作休息的水岸

我不懂你的琴音

更不能与你和鸣

[theotherchengirl-blog]

My Mr. Humbert

I met a man at 21, an age of feeling mature but actually not. And he is 12 years older than me. We would say he’s “a cycle older” than me in Chinese, something to do with the Chinse Zodiac. He’s a colleague from my first internship in Beijing, a good cook, a warm-hearted Cancer man, and my best date ever. 

I knew him before he actually showed up at the office. At the first working day, I was told this man was out on a business trip. I saw his name card and noticed he has my favorite family name-Wen, pronounced with first tone, meaning tender, or lukewarm water. I saw the doorplate of 221 B and a silhouette of Sherlock Holmes, too. I knew immediately that he will enjoy our conversation.

One day, he came back. He sat on the spot that I had been so familiar with these days with a serious, fuck-off face. Not so tender, I thought. Still I came to him with a question regarding the PowerPoint that they asked me to translate, and called him by his given name plus “Ge” (used to show your respect for males who are within 20 years older than you). I bet he knew I was nervous then, because he answered my question gently as if I was a rabbit who would be scared away by louder sounds. Since then, he treated me like a little girl, taking care of me so attentively to make me worry that I might be a paralyzed toddler without him.

He started by buying me coffee- Starbucks Cold brew Grande with ice every afternoon, almost destroying my digestion system. When I heated the meal, he reminded me not to stand in front of the microwave in order to avoid the radiation. When he printed something, he suggested that I should leave the printer in order to avoid the smell. When we ate lunch together, he will cut out the burnt part of the pork because it can cause cancer, according to him. One Friday, he invited me to watch a movie, and we ended in an Irish pub, drinking from Corona to Guinness. I borrowed a plastic cup from the bartender and showed him my little secret talent-Cups, like Anna Kendrick did in the movie. But I failed this one, forgetting one of the many moves. We sang along Backstreet Boys and Westlife and Stevie Wonder on the busy streets, showing every passer-by that we were drunk, at least I was. He seemed to remember every single line of the lyrics.

“No”, he said, “I just listened to them for too many times when my memory was at its prime.”

He guarded me home. Well, that was not a home, technically. I lived in my cousin’s university accommodation when she left for summer vacation.

“That frontdoor will be closed at 12 pm”, I told him,” and it’s almost time”

“In that case, I’ll wait here. And if you don’t make it, we can figure out a solution. “

“Thank you.”

I ran to the door and swiped the card my cousin left me, and it opened. I hesitated for 10 seconds there. I was considering his age, gossips at the workplace, my boyfriend back home, etc. at the 10 seconds. Finally I entered the door, and texted to him that I am fine, thanks for waiting. That was my only remained senses cheering and yelling “mission accomplished”.

He asked me out every weekend, driving me to contemporary arts’ galleries, the national opera house, and a countryside winery with our favorite 1990s records playing along the way. He treated me with hotpot, Korean BBQ and some luxurious cuisines. Those things are time-consuming and costly. But he provided them for me and asked no return. Believe me, I tried to return his favor by occasional coffee and a kiss on the night after we got back from the winery. When he was saying goodbye, I rounded his neck with my arms, kissing him on the face and said:

“No one can arrange such a perfect day like you do. I understand people often have to cancel the dates due to various reasons. But you always do what you promised every time. You never let me down. Thank you for that.”

He would have kissed me back if he had the slightest affection or attempt for me. But he didn’t. He smiled and said “good night, take care. “

No, he’s not gay. He wasn’t fishing. And he didn’t regard me as his sister or daughter judging by the way he looked at me. I reckon he may be a philanthropist who was born to rescue heartbreaking girls. He’s the kindest mystery that I have ever met. 

I grow up with mysteries and detective stories. Imbalanced and abnormal things make me itchy like they did to Hercule Poirot. Out of curiosity about this man, I went to Beijing again three months after my internship.  He promised to teach me ski. I pictured the reunion in my head over and over.  I couldn’t help thinking will he be a stranger, did I gain some weight, and what he looks like in winter coat as we only spent half of the summer together. So when I got the phone call, I was pretty nervous like the first time we talked.  I walked out the hotel and recognized him on the driver’s seat. Nothing changed on him, and that black is his color. He took me to Nanshan ski resort, talking all the way about the snow might be thin but still available. He rented the shoes, clothes, helmets, skates, and sticks while I was just standing like a foreigner to this country. He prepared plastic bags for separating our feet from the shoes that were worn by many people. We began with the starters’ ramp and ended skiing on the long scary ramp for intermediate skiers. I said he’s a good teacher. And he said I’m a clever student. At night, he was driving me back to the hotel but the GPS seemed to go wrong. We took many false roads and finally approached to the right place. But au contraire, mon ami, I wish we would never find the right place.

This man made me wonder how close two people should be before they can be a couple. I used to think me and Wen are close but it never cross him mind that I can be his girlfriend.  Perhaps he belongs to a kind of people who feed on your appreciation and need nothing else. I’m not a fan of The French Lieutenant’s Woman, but I have to borrow a sentence from it.

“Do I still have the chance to solve your mysteries?”

[theotherchengirl-blog]

A Kind of Sea Creature

We sang along All These Things That I’ve Done

with our hands taping on the table like playing the drums

You touched my back while taking a selfie

And I reached your hand while talking to another man

I could have swept your floor like I did for those Norwegians

But you have someone back home whose lips are cherry red

She fell for your ash green eyes, you said

As for me, I’ve drawn in your Jack Gyllenhaal smile

You must know Chinese girls like me cannot take a friendly hug

or even a friendly kiss

Put it away, and show some mercy

You are nothing to me but a short awkward poem like this

[theotherchengirl-blog]

Your Letter

“Dear sir, 

Your letter of 15th October has reached me at last.”

---A Discovery of Witch