A Girl Named Faithful Plum
Page 1
THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF
This is a work of nonfiction, though some names have been changed—specifically those of Teacher Zhu, Comrade Tsang, and a few minor characters—and conversations have been imagined. Also, events that actually took place over a two-year period have been compressed into the single year covered by this book. But everything else, starting with Zhongmei’s departure from her hometown on that fateful day in 1978, is described as it actually happened.
Text copyright © 2011 by Richard Bernstein
Jacket photograph copyright © 1995; from the author’s private collection
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Bernstein, Richard.
A girl named Faithful Plum : the true story of a dancer from China and how she achieved her dream / by Richard Bernstein.
p. cm.
eISBN: 978-0-375-98434-1
1. Li, Zhongmei, 1966— 2. Dancers—China—Biography. 3. Dancers—United States—
Biography. I. Title.
GV1785.L485B47 2011
792.802′8092—dc22
[B]
2010048722
Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.
v3.1
To Elias,
a.k.a. Tiandao, a.k.a. Dao Dao
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Glossary of Chinese Places, Terms, and Names
A Note to the Reader
Prologue
Chapter 1 - Leaving Home
Chapter 2 - An Impossible Dream
Chapter 3 - The Hunger Strike
Chapter 4 - An Outfit for the Big City
Chapter 5 - Second Thoughts
Chapter 6 - Stranded
Chapter 7 - An Amazing Coincidence
Chapter 8 - Taking Measurements
Chapter 9 - “Have I Done All This for Nothing?”
Chapter 10 - “I’m Not Going Back Until I Dance!”
Chapter 11 - Becoming Grass
Chapter 12 - Comrade Tsang
Chapter 13 - “Six Years to Go!”
Chapter 14 - The Country Bumpkin
Photo Insert
Chapter 15 - Banned from Ballet
Chapter 16 - Ice Sticks
Chapter 17 - Slap, Slap, Slap
Chapter 18 - “You Look Like a Duck”
Chapter 19 - Hungry in Harbin
Chapter 20 - Daring to Struggle
Chapter 21 - A Piece of String
Chapter 22 - Lucky
Chapter 23 - Disaster
Chapter 24 - The Banquet at Hongmen
Chapter 25 - Caught!
Chapter 26 - The Progress Prize
Chapter 27 - Triumph
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Glossary of Chinese Places, Terms, and Names
Note: When Chinese is transcribed into English, the letter x is pronounced as though it were sh, so xiao-jie, which means “younger sister,” is pronounced she-ow-jee-eh. The letters zh are pronounced like j, and q sounds like ch. So Zhongmei is pronounced joong-may and Zhongqin, her older sister, is joong-chin.
Baoquanling (pronounced bow-chyuan-ling) / Precious Water from the Mountain Peaks—Zhongmei’s hometown.
Beijing—China’s capital city.
Beijing Dance Academy—China’s premier dance-training institute.
bing-gwer—an icicle.
bu-tsuo (pronounced boo-tswaw)—not bad, pretty good.
Chairman Mao / Mao Zedong—the leader of China’s Communist revolution and the all-powerful head of the government from 1949 until his death in 1976.
Communist Party—the organization led by Chairman Mao that took power in China in 1949 after a long and bloody civil war.
Cultural Revolution—a social movement that led to ten years of turmoil in China, from 1966 to 1976, when the leaders fought among themselves and many schools, including high schools and colleges, were closed.
da-ge (pronounced dah-guh)—older brother.
da-jie—older sister.
ding zi bu—basic (first) position in ballet.
er-jie—second sister.
er zi bu—second position in ballet.
fen, yuan—terms for Chinese money. One yuan is worth about fifteen American cents; there are 100 fen per yuan, so seven fen is worth about one American penny.
flying apsara—a Buddhist celestial maiden.
Gang of Four—a group of officials led by Mao’s wife, Jiang Qing, who wielded great power during the Cultural Revolution but were arrested and imprisoned after Mao’s death.
guanxi (pronounced gwan-she)—connections with powerful or influential people.
Hegang (pronounced huh-gong)—a town near Baoquanling and the first stop on Zhongmei’s journey to Beijing.
Heilongjiang / Black Dragon River—Zhongmei’s home province in North China.
Heilong River—the broad, turbulent river that divides Heilongjiang from Russia, which was part of the Soviet Union in 1978 and 1979; also known as the Amur River.
Jiang Qing (pronounced jee-ang ching)—Chairman Mao’s wife, imprisoned after his death and now deceased.
kang (pronounced kong)—a heated brick sleeping platform used in houses in North China.
pi-gu (pronounced pee-goo)—slang for one’s behind, rear end.
The Red Detachment of Women and The White-Haired Girl—ballets favored by Chairman Mao’s wife, Jiang Qing, and widely performed in China in the 1960s and ’70s.
Red Guards—bands of students who roamed China during the Cultural Revolution and attacked people they accused of opposing Chairman Mao and his policies.
wu zi bu—fifth position in ballet.
xiao-di (pronounced she-ow-dee)—younger brother.
xiao-jie (pronounced she-ow-jee-eh)—younger sister.
xiao-mei (pronounced she-ow-may)—little miss.
The Li Family
A Note on Chinese Names
In China, last names come first. That’s why the main character of this book is referred to as Li Zhongmei. Li is her family, or “last,” name; Zhongmei is her given, or “first,” name. Chinese last names almost always consist of a single Chinese character and a single syllable—some of the most common being Li, Chen, Wong, and Liu. Other last names in this book are Jia, Tsang, Zhou, Peng, and Zhu. Given names are typically two characters and two syllables, as in Zhongmei, but they can also be single characters. Zhongmei’s younger brother, Li Feng, is a case of the single-syllable given name.
Chinese children customarily have the same last names as their fathers. When women get married, they rarely change their own last name to match that of their husband. This can be seen in the names of Zhongmei’s parents. Her father is Li Zhengping, her mother Gao Xiuying.
Li Zhongmei (pronounced lee joong-may)—Zhongmei means “Faithful Plum.”
Li Zhengping—Zhongmei’s father.
Gao Xiuying (pronounced gow she-oh-ying)—Zhongmei’s mother.
Li Zhongqin (pronounced lee joong-chin) / Da-jie—Zhongmei’s older sister.
Li Zhongling / Er-jie—Zhongmei’s second sister.
Li Guoqi
ang (pronounced lee gwaw-chee-ong) / Da-ge— Zhongmei’s older brother.
Li Feng / Xiao-di—Zhongmei’s younger brother.
Lao Lao—Zhongmei’s grandmother.
Lao Ye—Zhongmei’s grandfather, who died before the events in the book took place.
Other Characters
Chen Aiyi (pronounced chen I-yee)—Huping’s mother, who takes Zhongmei in when she first arrives in Beijing.
Da-ma—Policeman Li’s wife.
Huping—the young man who accompanies Zhongmei on her first train trip to Beijing.
Jia Zuoguang (pronounced jee-ah dzwaw-gong)—vice director of the Beijing Dance Academy.
Jinhua—a fellow student who torments Zhongmei.
Li Guang—the son of Da-ma and Policeman Li, works in a photography studio.
Li Zhongshan / Policeman Li—Da-ma’s husband and the friend of Zhongmei’s father, whose home becomes her home in Beijing.
Liu Lingzhang—a dance instructor.
Old Zhou (pronounced joe)—the night watchman at the Beijing Dance Academy.
Peng Guimin / Teacher Peng—second-year teacher who mentors Zhongmei.
Tsang Tungzhi / Comrade Tsang / Old Maid Tsang (pronounced dzong)—administrator of the Beijing Dance Academy.
Wang Tianyuan—the girl Zhongmei meets on line outside the Dance Academy during the auditions.
Xiaolan (pronounced she-ow-lon)—Zhongmei’s best friend. Xiaolan means “Little Orchid.”
Zhu Huaimin (pronounced joo hwai-min) / Teacher Zhu—the teacher of the fundamentals of ballet.
A Note to the Reader
Sometimes the best stories are the ones that are right in front of your nose. For most of my career as a newspaper reporter and writer of books, I’ve had to travel far, sometimes literally halfway around the world, to find my material. But I didn’t have to go anyplace to learn the amazing story of Li Zhongmei. It came to me, and it stayed right in front of my nose, even though for a long time I didn’t do anything with it.
I met Zhongmei almost twenty years ago, before many of the readers of this book were born. She was then, and she still is, a sweet and gentle person. But over the years I’ve known her, she’s told me her not so sweet and gentle story, of an ardent girl from a very faraway place whose dream of becoming a dancer turned into the kind of nightmare that, had she not been very brave, would have destroyed her.
I always thought it was a remarkable tale full of amazing incidents and, in the end, a sweet and happy one too. Still, for years I was busy with my job, writing articles for the New York Times, where I was a foreign correspondent, and, from time to time, writing books aimed at adult readers. Until, finally, my sister, Judy, told me one day, “I think young readers, kids around Zhongmei’s age when she first went to the Beijing Dance Academy, would find her story fascinating. Why don’t you do a book on her?”
And so I did. The result is in your hands. I hope you like it. Also, I hope it will inspire you never to give up in the face of adversity and unfairness, but to look deep within yourself, as Zhongmei did, and find the strength, the discipline, and the determination to overcome.
Prologue
Dear Big Sister, wrote Li Zhongmei from Beijing, China’s capital.
I miss you. I miss everybody. I even miss Teacher Wong, who was kind of mean sometimes in fourth grade. Sometimes I wish I had never come to Beijing. I feel so far away from home. I don’t know why Teacher Zhu hates me so much. What did I ever do to her? She still won’t even let me take ballet class, and if I don’t take ballet class, how can anyone expect me to pass the exams at the end of the year? The other girls all keep teasing me for being a country bumpkin. And it’s true. I am a country bumpkin. When I got here, I didn’t even know what getting on television meant. Remember how that made Teacher Zhu mad as a hornet? Well, I told you about that already, didn’t I? But there’s one thing I didn’t tell you.
There’s a person here that we call Old Maid Tsang. She would kill me if she knew I called her that. She did something really terrible, so bad I’m afraid I’ll start crying if I tell you in this letter. It’s not that I’m ashamed of crying. I cry all the time here, after lights are out and all the other girls are asleep. But I’m afraid of getting the paper all wet. Anyway, I’ll tell you about that on my next trip home.
Don’t tell Ma and Ba that I’m having a hard time here. I don’t want them to worry. Don’t tell Lao Lao either. It would make her sad. But don’t worry. Do you remember the plan we made when we saw each other for New Year’s? I’m sure you do. Well, it’s going pretty well. Old Zhou pulls on the string outside my window every morning at four o’clock, the one that’s tied to my wrist, so I always wake up on time. It makes me pretty tired. The other girls get two hours more sleep than I do. But I’m strong, and I have to do it. I’ll do anything not to get thrown out of here.
I’ll see you at home this summer. I’ll have a lot more to tell you, especially about Old Maid (I mean Comrade) Tsang. Please make my favorite noodles in chicken soup, if there’s any chicken. If not, I’ll be happy to have just plain noodles in soup without chicken, but I’m hoping for chicken too. Greedy me.
Your little sister
1
Leaving Home
One sunny morning in the spring of 1978 in the remote, very northernmost part of China, a slight eleven-year-old girl named Li Zhongmei got on a bus for the first leg of a journey to Beijing, China’s capital. Zhongmei had gotten up that morning as she always did, to the sound of roosters crowing and hens clucking in nearby yards. She was so excited, hopeful, and nervous that she could barely eat the breakfast of rice porridge and corn fritters that her older sister Zhongqin made for her, because this was indeed a very big event in the life of a young girl who had never been more than a few hours from her hometown. It was even a noteworthy event for the town itself, a place called Baoquanling, most of whose residents had never been to Beijing and never expected to go.
When Zhongmei got to the bus station, just a patch of open ground alongside the town’s main street, she found that most of the people she knew were there to see her off—her classmates from the fourth grade in elementary school, her neighbors, and a few of her teachers. Her two older sisters, her older brother, and her younger one had accompanied her to the bus station as well, though her mother and father couldn’t be there because, like all the adults in this region of China, they had to put in a full day of work, whether their daughters were heading off to Beijing or not. In all, the trip would take three days and two nights on two buses and two trains. But Zhongmei wouldn’t be alone. On the first part of the journey to Jiamusi, which was two buses and four hours away, she was going to be accompanied by Zhongqin, who was not only the older of her sisters but was also her best friend.
“We’re going to miss you,” one of her classmates called out as Zhongmei and Zhongqin turned to get on the bus.
“I’ll miss you too,” Zhongmei replied.
“Do your best,” one of her teachers said, raising a clenched fist in the air, looking a bit like a figure in one of the posters that were up all over China in those days, urging people to fight for the revolution. “Try hard. Be strong.”
“I will,” said Zhongmei.
Zhongmei shook hands all around, gave her younger brother a pat on the head, hugged her second sister, and smiled at her older brother, who gave her a cheerful thumbs-up. Standing on the first step of the bus entrance, she took one last look around the place where she had spent her whole life. Baoquanling was about as remote as remote gets in China, pressed against the border with Russian Siberia in China’s Heilongjiang Province, blazing hot in summer, freezing in winter, battered by strong winds in the spring and fall. The air on this early morning was cool and fresh. The sky was a pale blue stained with yellow dust and streaked with high, thin clouds. A Chinese flag, five white stars on a field of red, hung limply from a nearby flagpole. Through a gap in the buildings that lined Baoquanling’s main street, Zhongmei could see a row of men and women, pi
tchforks and rakes slung over their shoulders like rifles, marching out to the wheat and vegetable fields of the Baoquanling State Farm.
Zhongmei and Zhongqin pushed their way into the bus, Zhongmei carrying the small cloth suitcase that Zhongqin had bought for the occasion at the local department store—none of the Li children had really been anyplace before, so they didn’t have any travel accessories. There was a good deal of pushing and shoving as passengers scrambled to find seats, or risk having to stand in the aisle all the way to Hegang. Zhongqin was lucky to get a spot in the very first row just behind the driver. She relieved Zhongmei of the suitcase and put it on her lap. Zhongmei, a bit less lucky, sat on the cushioned engine cover that occupied the front part of the aisle, which warmed up from the heat of the engine and vibrated the whole way to Hegang.
Zhongmei watched as the bus driver revved up the engine and put it noisily into gear. She turned to wave to her friends and family, but the bus kicked up such a thick cloud of dust and smoke as it roared into motion that nobody was visible. Zhongmei felt a wave of disappointment at that, but then she figured it didn’t really matter. For weeks everybody had been telling her that she was bound to fail in Beijing and would be back in Baoquanling pretty soon, after which everything else would go back to the way it had been before—except that her hard-pressed family would have to pay back the money they borrowed for one expensive train tricket. This was not what Zhongmei hoped for, and she was determined not to fail. And yet so many people seemed to think that she was making this big trip for nothing that she had begun to wonder if, maybe, they were right.
The flat, straight road leading out of Baoquanling was lined with gray birch trees whose trunks were painted white so they could be easily seen at night. It teemed with bicycles, oxcarts, and three-wheeled farm trucks filled with trussed pigs, slatted chicken crates, bricks, cinder blocks, mounds of cabbages or turnips or eggplants or straw, or mesh bags filled with scallions or spring pea shoots or bulging with garlic heads. Blackbirds perched on the electricity wires strung across the endless rank of telephone poles parallel to the road.