The Picnic

Here is the long-awaited (I'm sure) continuation to my story. When we last left off, our heroine was drenched and bent on revenge. It was not too long in coming.
"Let's have a picnic this weekend!" Zheng Xiaoxue exclaimed one warm afternoon as those of us not in class lounged around under the peach trees. From the classroom, I
could hear Luo Wei telling the first-graders about how important it is to do what
Chairman Mao wanted us to do. "Ou Laoshi and I will treat," Xiaoxue went on, "because we're leaving on Wednesday. We can have potatoes and onions and cookies! All in favor clap your hands!" She herself was so very much in favor that she clapped her feet as well, causing Mao Namu to remark that she looked like a frog.
"And I'll tell you what you should do," said Old Mr Wu confidentially, "You girls ought to get back at them for soaking you that day. It'll be fun!" I for one had no
doubt that it would be; I pictured the other girls and I dumping basins of water
over the heads of the miscreants.
What actually happened was far better than that.
A few days in advance, Xiaoxue, Zao Zao, Wang Cheng and I hired a car to take us to
town for provisions. Fang Laoshi and his girlfriend, just arrived from Guangzhou, went too, but ever since the arrival of the girlfriend Fang laoshi had been of little or no use to anybody, apart from providing us with something to laugh at. The car was crowded, and we three girls sat in the back seat and discussed the future.
"You'll come back, won't you?" Zao Zao (one of the two Naxi girls on the school
staff) asked Xiaoxue. "Of course," Xiaoxue assured her. "We can all go to Shangri-la together."
I was jealous - I wanted to go to Shangri-la, too, not return to hot and dirty Beijing.
"You'll come back too, Ou Laoshi?" Zao Zao went on.
"Sure," I said. "I'll bring my grandchildren."
"You can bring your husband," Xiaoxue corrected me. "And he'll be super handsome and
nice."
Wang Cheng, who was sitting up front with the driver, snorted. We ignored him.
"Oh, look!" said Xiaoxue, "This is where we met you that first day! Do you remember?"
I did. It seemed much longer ago than a month. "We all said you were so pretty - especially Luo Wei and Wang Cheng. Wang Cheng didn't even dare speak to you - the beautiful foreigner."
"Beautiful ge pi!" I retorted, successfully employing one of the more colorful words
in my vocabulary, and the others giggled.
We arrived at the town and bought supplies - potatoes, onions, disturbing-looking hot dog-like objects, cookies, and so on. "We can buy a little beer, but not too much," said Xiaoxue. "There will be about six men - five bottles ought to be enough. We don't want them getting drunk." I didn't contradict her.
The day before the picnic it rained, and Xiaoxue and I anxiously discussed the dismal prospect of having a picnic inside, in the kitchen. But the day of the picnic, though the sky was overcast and there was a cool breeze, it was decided that we would risk the trip to the island. We gathered up the food and hiked down to the lake, where we obtained one of the long Naxi canoes. A few of the men went into Zao Zao's family's store and returned carrying an entire crate of beer to supplement the meagre allowance Xiaoxue and I had bought. She was dubious; I was pleased - I felt up for a beer myself. The men paddled the canoe and Zao Zao and Mao Namu sang Naxi folksongs. Zao Zao had a little girl on her lap - about four years old, and not a word of Mandarin. "A gu bah rah," I greeted her solemnly, using one of my few Naxi words.
When we reached the island, the men built a small fire and we girls started to wash
the vegetables in the lake. Before we could start cooking, however, a trip had to be
made to the top of the hill, where there was a small temple made of white stones. We
hiked to the top - Wang Cheng helped the little girl over the difficult bits by
hoisting her by the collar of her jacket, much like a mother cat with her kittens -
and a small, smoky fire was built at the base of the temple. Then, somewhat to my
surprise, Zao Zao gave each of us a small handfull of sand and we began to circle
the temple (moving clockwise) and scattering sand as we went.
Now, ordinarily, of course, my inclination would have been to leave the religious
rites to those who understand and believe in them. But I took my cue from Ishmael -
I was on my third read-through of Moby Dick at the time - and reasoned thus: that
the most important teaching of my own religion is to do unto others as I would have
them do unto me, and that the Buddhists present clearly wanted me to walk and throw
sand, and that my own God wasn't likely to mind. So I went along, and after a few
laps round the temple we stopped, bowed three times, touching our foreheads to the
ground, and Wang Cheng and Yang Shifu took turns blowing a large white conch. Then,
taking care to move only in a clockwise direction, we went down the hill to the
picnic spot.
There we divided in a typical Chinese fashion - the men sat down to play cards and
drink beer, while we girls started to roast the potatoes and whatnot. The exceptions
were Fang laoshi and his girlfriend, who sat at one end of the canoe and whispered
sweet nothings or something, and Luo Wei, who lay at the other end and slept. (He
and Wang Cheng had been keeping rather long hours due to the World Cup.) Of course,
the advantage was all ours - we ate the potatoes and things hot, and only when we
had had our fill did we pass the bowl to the men, who were intent on poker, and Fang
laoshi and his girlfriend, who had eyes only for each other.
"Do you still remember what Mr Wu said?" Xiaoxue asked me confidentially as we knelt
over the fire.
"Of course," I replied; I'd been chuckling to myself all day at the thought of
getting back at the boys.
"What did he say?" Wang Cheng demanded.
"Oh, just explaining to me about some grammar thing," I lied, and Xiaoxue managed to
turn a giggle into a passable imitation of a cough.
When we had eaten our fill for the moment, it was suggested that we play a game. I
don't know how it is, but these folks loved to sing, and all day long at the school
you could hear Houzi's gravelly voice singing traditional Chinese folk songs, or
Wang Cheng's enthusiastic tenor, or even, very softly, the occasional off-key Laura
Cantrell. And so the game that was agreed upon was Sing A Song Or Run Around the
Island (The first suggestion, Sing A Song Or Remove An Item of Clothing, was
rejected, somewhat to my disappointment). We were broken up into teams - Naxi, Han,
and, rather unfairly to my mind, Laowai. "Ou laoshi can be Han," Xiaoxue suggested,
but this would have been letting me off too easy.
And so we sang. The Naxi team sung their folk songs, which were lovely, and the Han
team sang a few Han songs (but not quite as well), and then it was my turn. I tried
to stall. I tried to get out of it. But I do not like to be a poor sport, so finally, starting off unsteady but growing stronger as I went, I sang.
***I need someone to love me
Need somebody to carry me home
to San Fransisco
and bury my body there
Oh I need someone to lend me
a fifty dollar bill and then
I'll leave Hong Kong
far behind me
for happiness once again ***
"What does it mean?" Luo Wei asked me.
"It's about an American in Hong Kong, who wants to go home, but he can't. My dad
used to sing it to me when I was a baby."
By and by some of us decided to go for a spin around the island (moving clockwise,
still, owing to the temple at the top). Luo Wei, Wang Cheng, and Houzi rowed, while
Xiaoxue, Mr Wu and I sat around and looked decorative. Fang laoshi followed us along
the bank for a bit, throwing large stones to splash us, but Wang Cheng got him with
the paddle and he desisted. "Want to go swimming again?" Xiaoxue joked, and I said
yes.
"We'll close our eyes," Luo Wei grinned.
"You two are gay anyway, so you don't count, but we can't trust Mr Wu," Xiaoxue
retorted, and quite probably this was true.
As we approached the picnic spot, we saw that Yang Shifu and Xiao Zhou, a 16 year old Naxi boy, were waiting for us with the old basin of water routine. Wang Cheng got them with the paddle, but then - traitorous boy! - switched sides and jumped onto the bank, where he began splashing us unmercifully. Luo Wei helped me and Mr Wu onto the shore, but poor Xiaoxue couldn't get off the boat, and Wang Cheng jumped back on and paddled off, splashing everyone indiscriminately with the paddle. Xiaoxue bravely tried to shove him off the boat, but she was either not strong enough or not quick enough. Finally, Wang Cheng came back to shore and Xiaoxue, utterly soaked, managed to climb off the boat.
Then I gave chase to Wang Cheng, but he was fast - and armed. Soaking me with one
last basin of water, he took off up the hill. I followed, but I had no water and so
was forced to return to the picnic to get some. This cost me valuable time. I did
not find him at the top of the hill, and by the time I made it back to the bottom
things were in a pretty fix. Xiao Zhou had climbed to the top of the pagoda and
people were throwing all sorts of things at him in a feutal attempt to make him come
down. Wang Cheng had taken the boat and was now reclining in the middle of the lake.
"Never mind," Fang laoshi said to me as I stood, panting and holding my bottle of
water. "He has to come back eventually - we'll get him then."
"I'm never coming back!" Wang Cheng shouted from the boat. I was soaked. I took off
my shoes and socks.
"You're all going to have to swim home!" he crowed. I took off my glasses and placed
them carefully in my sneaker. "Ou laoshi, what are you doing?" Luo Wei asked, but I did not answer. Fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, I plunged into the water and began to swim.
Oh, but there is nothing on earth wetter or heavier than wet jeans! I swam freestyle
for a few yards, then paused, treading water, to catch my breath.
"Ou laoshi! Come back!" they cried from the shore. "Come back!"
"Ou laoshi, go back to the island!" Wang Cheng shouted. "I'm coming back, I'm coming!"
"Are you really coming?" I demanded.
"Really! Yes! Go back to the shore, Ou laoshi!"
So I turned and swam back. After all, I did not have any particular plan - if I had
made it to the boat I don't know what I would have done - I couldn't tip it even if
I wanted to (and imagine the headlines - MORON LAOWAI DESTROYS NAXI CULTURAL ARTIFACT) and it would be very difficult to climb up and throw him off.
They made a big fuss over me and tried to make me stand by the fire, but I broke
away and went to stand on the shore to wait for Wang Cheng.
"Here," said Luo Wei, handing me an enormous knife. (I wanted to make some sort of
joke about his ardor being dampened but nothing came to me.)
"I'm coming," said Wang Cheng from the boat. "I'll do it myself." He paddled the
boat close to land and resignedly climbed off in order to wade to the shore.
This was obviously inadequate, and I was already as wet as it was possible to be
without drowning. I chased him back into the water and, amidst his shouts of protest
and howls of laughter from the audience on shore, proceeded to make him as wet as I
was. "Peace," I said finally, and he raised his hand in acknowledgement of our
truce.
"That was very brave," Old Mr Wu said.
"I am proud of you," Fang laoshi said.
"I saw her take off her shoes," Luo Wei said, "and I thought, 'what is she doing?'
And then she just jumped in! Wang Cheng must have been terrified!" He whacked Wang
Cheng on his still-dripping back, then threw his arm around him.
"It was awesome," Xiao Zhou agreed.
"Very romantic," said Zheng Xiaoxue, which of course resulted in some more hitting.
That evening as we stood outside with our bowls of soup, watching the moon come up
over the mountains, Luo Wei told the story again, relishing every damp detail. "I don't know what on earth you're talking about," I said with quiet dignity. "I
would never do a thing like that. I am a lady."
"It's no good saying you're a lady," they laughed, "we'll always remember." And I dare say we will.