Pearl Harbour
“Do you think Jiang hates me?” I asked, glancing at my classmate on the other side of the cafeteria. Because of the freezing weather, the cafeteria was packed.
It’s nothing personal,” my Chinese friend replied. “It’s just that you are Japanese.”
I was not too happy about this answer. It was then I realized that some people in this world have an antipathy to the Japanese. It did not take me too long to realize that this boy in my ESL class was ignoring me.
Seeing me upset, my friend quickly explained that Jiang happened to be from a place in China where most people hates the Japanese; therefore, it was not my fault that he disliked me. This answer did not please me either.
It was November. Jiang had been aloof towards me for a quite while. I tried to be friendly at first, but soon got tired of saying hi to someone who did not bother to look at me. Unofficially we agreed not to recognize each other’s existence. He did not see me. I did not see him.
One day, as I was sitting in the classroom by myself, trying to work on my math homework, Jiang came in. He saw me and decided to get out of there, but since I had already looked up, he hesitated.
“Hi,” I said, looking back to my textbook. He glanced at it and saw that the questions I was working on were fairly easy.
“I thought Japanese people were damn good at math,” he said. Very nice thing to say to someone you’ve never talked to, I thought.
“Not everyone.”
“I see,” he said, turning his back to me to walk out of the room. Then I heard him murmur, “That answer is wrong. You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?” And he was gone.
I was furious. More than half a year went by without another conversation. I did not see him; he did not see me.
It was a month before the final exam when our history teacher announced that each of us was to make a speech on World War2. I was terrified. It seemed pretty hard to choose a topic that had nothing to do with the Japanese. I didn’t want to criticize my homeland. I scanned the list of topics, and than found “Pearl Harbour.” Then a thought came to me. What if Jiang chooses topic? That guy hates the Japanese. He might- no-he will say something really bad about the Japanese. And I will have to listen. That would be such torture.
So I chose “Pearl Harbour.” I knew absolutely nothing about the topic, but I did a bit of painful research and made a short presentation. I did not refer to the Japanese as “we,” nor to the Americans as “they.” I just talked about the facts.
I hated making presentations. I was shaking badly. Probably no one understood what I was talking about.
When the class was over, I was exhausted. I packed my stuff really slowly while everyone dashed out of the classroom. I sighed and stood up. Then I felt someone standing behind me. I was startled. Then I realize it was Jiang. I was speechless.
“Your presentation was awful,” he said. “You still know nothing.”
I was too tired to say anything. This guy really hates me, I thought.
“But I think you have guts,” he paused. “You admitted the Japanese did us wrong.”
I was ready to go. My day was already ruined. I couldn’t take anymore.
He went on. “I hate the Japanese,” he said “but…but I don’t hate you too much.”
I looked up. He patted my shoulder, grinned, and walked out of the room. |
发表于 2003-10-25 07:50:08
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