The masses are the real heroes, while we ourselves are often childish and ignorant, and without this understanding it is impossible to acquire even the most rudimentary knowledge.
—Chairman Mao Tze TungIn a dream she took off her shoes and crossed the river at Wushi, her arms high above her head in surrender. She waded among tug boats loaded with piles of wood and bamboo. Men brushed their teeth in enamel bowls, crouching on the shore. They looked up at her crossing the river. She prayed to the golden Buddha of Souzhou with the many arms that break through the glass case to reach for the sky and the depth of the ocean. She chanted holding her arms high until the water filled her mouth.
6:30am. The loudspeaker went off in the dorm of the Zhejiang College of Traditional Chinese Medicine. News in Mandarin and French piano music. Same song every day; none of the Chinese students knew the title. From her window Nicoletta saw that she had missed the morning Tai Chi Chuan again. The students were undulating in sync Part the Wild Horse’s Mane. There was something humorous in the militaristic precision.… Read more »