Ma Jian - Beijing Coma

All around us were huge trees. We couldn’t see the summit of the mountain we were climbing. We were walking in semi-darkness. I’d never been in a rainforest before. It didn’t look real. I felt as though we were floating through an eerie landscape from the fables.

The narrow path was covered with human footprints and the hoof marks of cattle. Damp grasses growing along the sides arched over, almost meeting in the middle. Our trousers and shoes were soon wet through.

She slowed down. ‘It’s too beautiful,’ she said. ‘Are those lovebirds up there?’ She pointed to a flock of birds that had just taken off from the branches of a tree.

‘No, they’re cuckoos. Look at the long tails.’

‘Do you know why cuckoos have red breasts?’ she said. ‘There was a princess in ancient China who died of a broken heart, and was reincarnated as a cuckoo. She sang a mournful song for days on end until blood dripped from her eyes and stained her white breast red.’

‘Did you know that, after two lovebirds pair up, they stay with each other for the rest of their lives? They never fly out alone.’

‘Look at those huge beans hanging down there!’ She walked over and tried to pull one down.

‘They’re croton beans. Don’t try to eat them, they’re poisonous.’ I lifted her up and she pulled off a curved one that was as large as an ox’s tusk.

‘It would look great hanging up in my dorm. Go on, take a picture!’ She let the bean hang from her neck, and excitedly handed me her camera. ‘Quick, take a photo! The air is so fresh. Ah! That grass smells wonderful.’ She was smiling and laughing.

‘The oxygen levels here must be very high.’

‘I didn’t ask you about oxygen levels, you egghead.’ She was always telling me off for sounding like a textbook.

‘The Bulang tribe live in these mountains,’ I said, knowing this would interest her more. ‘They dye their teeth black. They think it makes them look more beautiful. Perhaps we’ll come across one of their villages today. I saw photographs of them in an exhibition in Guangzhou on the minority cultures of south-west China. In the Bulang tribe, when a boy and girl fall in love, they sit together under a tree and dye each other’s teeth black.’

‘Did you go to that exhibition with your Hong Kong girlfriend?’ Ever since I’d told her of my relationship with A-Mei, she’d often get me to talk about her so she could make some sarcastic comment.

I didn’t want to answer her question because, as it happened, I had been thinking about A-Mei at that very moment. Instead, I took a deep breath and raced further up the slope. Soon, I had a view of the rainforest engulfing the hill in front, and stretching into the far distance. I spotted a path winding off into the mountains and wondered where it led.

I turned round and saw Tian Yi climbing up towards me, puffing and panting.

There was no sun or breeze on this side of the mountain. I noticed small red berries on the bushes at the feet of the dark-green trees. Nearer the ground, there were shrubs with blue, yellow and white flowers. I remembered that A-Mei always liked to have fresh flowers in her room. In the north, no one kept plants in their homes. My mother once said that keeping plants and flowers was petit-bourgeois and a sign of an unhealthy mind. So there were never any flowers in our flat.

Tian Yi staggered towards me, her face flushed. ‘I can’t go any further,’ she moaned. ‘What’s the point of going to the top? We’ll have to walk all the way back down again afterwards.’

Why are girls so feeble? I asked myself, stretching out my hand and pulling her up. ‘This mountain really isn’t that high,’ I said. ‘Let’s keep going for a bit. Perhaps we’ll come across an elephant.’

‘Elephants in a rainforest?’ she said, her eyes sparkling.

‘Yes, there are several herds here, apparently. Look at those giant ferns over there. They’re living fossils. They probably haven’t changed for a hundred million years.’ The ferns loomed over the undergrowth like open parasols. I walked over to one and pinched a curled frond. Although I’d seen this species in the botanical garden of Southern University, they were much smaller than these.

‘I’ve seen photographs of them in a geographical magazine,’ she said proudly. ‘Stand there. Don’t move. I’m taking a picture.’

I led her further up the mountain. Her small hand was wet with perspiration.

On the path ahead, beautiful yellow butterflies were sitting on a cowpat. As we approached, they flew away. Tian Yi tore off a clump of wild grasses that were yellow, green and grey. Each one was exquisite, but none as beautiful as her hand.

She was exhausted. Her breath smelt of the rice flour we’d eaten the day before. She was like A-Mei — they both hated physical exertion.

She was about to lean against a tree trunk and take a rest, but jumped back when she saw the ants crawling up the bark, so she leaned against me instead. She closed her eyes, put her hand on her forehead and said, ‘I suffer from low blood sugar, and I probably have a weak heart as well. Pass me the water bottle.’

I grabbed her wrist and checked her pulse. It didn’t seem too fast. I took off my cap and fanned her face with it.

‘I love climbing mountains,’ I said. ‘When you reach the summit and look down on the peaks below, you get a wonderful sense of achievement.’

Without opening her eyes she answered, ‘Mountain climbing is a form of megalomania. Men think they can conquer a mountain by climbing it. They climb for days, all the way to the top, but when they come down again, they’re still no better than a miserable beetle.’

As she leaned against me, I glanced down at the pale breasts hidden inside her green shirt and said, ‘Women’s lives are controlled by their bodies. They have weaker muscles, so it’s not surprising they don’t like climbing mountains.’

‘You have no right to talk about women’s bodies!’ she snapped, opening her eyes again. ‘Men may have stronger muscles, but that only drives them to chase each other across a sports field all day to work off their energy. It’s so tedious!’

I squatted down and lit a cigarette, and wondered whether Tian Yi’s aversion to group activities was a symptom of mild depression.

When she seemed strong enough to continue, I stubbed out my cigarette and said, ‘This forest is beautiful. It would be a shame if we didn’t make it to the summit.’

‘I need more time to rest. You always walk too fast. I like to stop and look at the flowers and trees.’ She sniffed the wild flowers in her hand. One of them had four dark-blue petals circling a soft ring of yellow stamens.

I sat down next to her, and we leaned back against the tree and gazed at the grasses and branches around us. A few rays of sunlight filtered down through the leaves. Then a breeze stirred the dense foliage. It came from a valley to the north and smelt of warm grass.

‘What have you seen now?’ she asked, looking into the forest and ruffling her hair.

‘There’s a wild boar behind that tree.’

‘I don’t believe you!’ she laughed. ‘You’re trying to frighten me!’

We rose to our feet again and continued up the path hand in hand.

Further on, near the summit, the trees thinned out a little, revealing patches of bare mountain rock. Through the gaps in the branches, we could glimpse blue sky.

I took Tian Yi in my arms and held her tight. We were alone together on this mountain. There was no one else around.

‘Tian Yi, you’re my angel,’ I said.

Her clenched hand opened and the wild grasses fell to the ground. ‘Your angel suffers from vertigo,’ she said. ‘She’s afraid of flying. Do you understand?’