The Diary of Ma Yan (10 page)

Why does each teacher talk about making progress? Now every time I think of the word, my hair stands on end. Do you know why? Because in the last English exam, I came in second. It's cruel when I think of it.

But I've taken in what the teacher said today. I have to make a greater effort.

Thursday, October 11
A fine day

This morning after our last class I stay behind to do an essay. Suddenly the head of games comes in and tells me to go outside and join the ranks. “All the others are already lined up. There's only you left.”

I go out to the sports ground and concentrate on standing very straight.

The other comrades have just started their games. Some are skipping rope, others are playing soccer, and still others are engaged in a game of tag between an eagle and chickens. I'd like to play too, but my heart isn't in it.

When I hear the children who aren't boarders talking about their families, I automatically think of my own. It makes me want to go straight home to see my mother and to ask her to make me a lovely dish of food. That would be great. I can already see myself chatting away happily to Mother.

Suddenly Ma Yichao runs past me, as fast as the wind. As soon as I see him, I stop having these dark thoughts and go off to play with the others.

I don't know what's wrong with me these days. I'm all upset
about things. I don't know quite what I'm doing or thinking. My moods go up and down.

Wednesday, October 17
A fine day

We have a free period this afternoon. Our English teacher dictates a text to us. Two of the comrades can't manage to write it down. The teacher hits them very hard with the leg of a chair. Bruises immediately appear on their arms and legs.

This teacher wants us to do well, but he hits too hard. I think he enjoys it. I weep without showing the tears. I think their parents would be weeping too, if they saw how badly their children were treated.

The teacher is raging and shouts, “If you still haven't learned your lessons by the next period, I won't give you another chance. I'll choose only the brightest students to answer questions. And that'll be that. I won't come back to you at all.”

During the class the teacher calls on me several times. My comrades look at me with envious eyes. They would do anything to get the better of me.

I mustn't worry about this. I mustn't let anything prevent me from attaining my goals and making good my plans for the future. I'll try to do something to change their jealous glances into admiring ones. I'll be as strong as my mother. When she encounters difficulties, she confronts them alone, and no one dares laugh at her.

Failure is the mother of success. But it worries me to see the
teacher striking the pupils. What will happen if they get hurt?

During the evening study period, these comrades managed to learn the words they hadn't known before. Why do they work better after they've been beaten? Their parents hope they'll become accomplished people, but after so many difficult years of study, how will they fulfill these expectations?

A skinny dog no longer manages to jump over a wall, even with help.

That's one of my mother's proverbs. I've never forgotten it. But it's only now that I grasp its full meaning.

Thursday, October 18
A fine day

Today in Chinese class the teacher asks us to write an essay on the theme of being in middle school. He takes the opportunity to explain to us the difference between the fast and the slower classes. The worst students in the fast class will be put into the slower class, and the teacher will be punished. That's why he wants us to work hard. All of us will reap the benefits. Finally he stops talking and tells us to start writing.

I finish my essay in a few minutes. All the comrades are surprised. “We take two or three days to think over an essay, and you…you just dash one off.”

The teacher points out that even this isn't quick enough. “You have to be like Ye Shengtao,
*
and practice speed and skill.”

The comrades make fun of me. “Ye Shengtao is the cleverest
man under the sun. Ma Yan comes in second.”

Ma Yan between classes at school

Everyone laughs.

To tell the truth, there's nothing I'd like better than to be the second-cleverest person in the world. If I had the chance, I'd like to compete with grandfather Ye Shengtao. Who knows if my wish might come true?

Friday, October 19
Fine, but then gray

Today my father has come to town for the market. He waits for me by the door while I'm still busy in class. I'm happy because that means he probably has some money for me. Otherwise he wouldn't wait.

As soon as classes are over, I rush out to meet him. He gives me five yuan, which I'll have to give to the teacher for books. My father asks me if I've run out of bread.

I explain to him that the steamed bread is long finished. He buys two rolls, one for my brother and one for me. I hold on to mine. It's precious. I'll eat it tomorrow on the long road home.

When I get to the vegetable part of the market, I meet comrade Ma Yongmei. I borrowed a roll from her not long ago. She asks me to return what I owe her. I give her the bread rolls I'm holding. But she doesn't want that. She wants money. Where am I going to find money?

Friday, October 26
A fine day

My father gave us four yuan and told my brother and me to get a ride home on a tractor today. My parents are going off to pick
fa cai
again and they were worrying about our safety.

But how in good conscience can I squander money on a tractor ride? My parents are working so hard, breaking their backs, bent over all the time, their faces fixed on the yellow earth. How
can we possibly allow ourselves the extravagance of a tractor ride that is paid for with our parents' sweat? My brother and I prefer to walk home.

We set out at eleven in the morning, and it is almost five when we finally reach home. We push open the door. Everything is quiet. The yard is empty. There's no one. No one here to say, “Oh, at last. Here are my exhausted children. Quick. You must rest. Mother is going to prepare a meal for you….”

How I would love to hear Mother's voice. But Mother isn't here.

When it got dark, my brother went off to ask our paternal grandmother if she would keep us company. She didn't come and there's only us, my two brothers and me. We go to sleep silently on the
kang
. Outside everything is quiet, and we're very frightened. If Mother were here, I don't know what she would be talking about. It would probably be one of her funny stories. But she isn't here.

Even cuddled up in bed, we feel the cold. I don't know how Mother manages to sleep on the damp earth—especially since she's ill. What a terrible life she has. How much longer will she have to live this way? I so very much hope she'll soon be happy.

Saturday, October 27
It's windy

This morning I help my brother Ma Yichao do his English homework. He doesn't even know how to write the simplest words. I get angry and I can't prevent myself from giving him a slap. He starts to cry and doesn't want to go on. Suddenly I start to cry too….

Mother is always lecturing me: “You have to take care of your little brother. You're bigger than he is and have a duty to help him. I send you to school and pay no attention to the costs. If you don't work well, not only do you not deserve the trouble I take for you, but you don't even deserve a week's bread.”

Her words play over and over in my mind. But my little brother doesn't work hard. I don't want to have to hear that he's been put into the slow class.

While the two of us are crying, my second uncle comes to the house. He says that an official is busy inspecting one of our pieces of land. “You should prepare this land for planting trees on,” he says to us. “Aren't your parents here? Go and see your paternal grandmother then, and ask your fifth uncle to come and dig some holes for the trees.” Then he goes away.

What are we to do? Should I be going back to school or staying at home to attend to all this? I'm so confused, I can't even describe it.

And my mother isn't here…. Every time I think of her, I want to cry.

Monday, October 29
A fine day

Good news today. On Wednesday we're going to have our midterm exam. I'm very happy about it. I fully intend to demonstrate my abilities. I'm no worse than anyone else, apart from the fact that I eat and dress less well than they do. Some girls change their school clothes often. But I've only got one outfit, a pair of trousers and a white shirt, which I have to wash on Saturdays so that they're clean by Monday.

But what does it matter! I only want to study and pay tribute to my parents' hands.
*
Despite the cold, they're working far away from home for us. Why? For our future. And I mustn't disappoint them.

Tuesday, October 30
A somber day

It's freezing today. My brother and I have no more bread. At lunchtime the comrades are all eating, and we have to stand by and grit our teeth.

Seeing my tears, my brother says, as if his heart were light, “Wait, sister, I'm going to borrow some lunch tickets.” But I know he feels no better than I do. He simply wants to console me and stop me from worrying about him. I go back to my dorm and sit on my bed and wait for him to return.

I'm dreaming of this bowl of yellow rice.

He takes a very long time to come back. Then he says, “Sister, there's no more rice.”

He turns to leave. I watch my brother's receding back, and I can't help letting the tears flow.

Do you know what hunger is? It's an unbearable pain.

I wonder when I'll stop experiencing hunger at school….

Friday, November 2
Wind

All these last days we've been doing our midterm exams. I think of nothing else, not even my sick mother, who's working so far away.

For the exams some of the comrades have torn out pages of their books and hidden them in their pockets. They'll be punished. Others write answers to difficult questions down the length of their arms. Do you think that's fair?

I haven't even opened my book. I remember that in elementary school a teacher explained to us that before an exam there's no point rereading all your notes. It's better to relax, have fun. “That's the best way to get good results,” he said.

I haven't altogether followed his advice. Instead, I sat on the edge of my bed and thought of my parents' suffering.

I can't disappoint them. I
will
do well.

Saturday, November 3
A gray day

The weekend starts today, and I'm full of joy. I hope that my parents have come home. I'll tell them all about the midterm exams.

I'm busy planning all kinds of projects when a comrade whispers, “The politics teacher knows our exam results.”

But another comrade is furious. “He doesn't. He only knows how the best students did, not the results of the dunces like us who aren't ranked among the top students.”

I hurry over to the teacher's house. It's already full of students. I've only just come in when I hear the teacher's voice. “Ma Yan got one hundred fourteen points in math. She's come in at the top of all six classes. She got ninety points in Chinese…. The English results haven't come in yet.”

I'm so overjoyed, I burst into tears. I don't know where so many tears can come from. My vision is blurred, but I go outside again.

I'm so moved, I still can't even find words to describe how I feel. Never have I had a moment like this one. Never will I forget it.

Monday, November 5
A fine day

At the class meeting the teacher pinned up our exam results. He explained working methods to us.

“When you're asked to put the answer to a question between parentheses, you don't need to show us the working out of the whole problem.”

I know that that's directed at me. He goes on.