Anchee Min - Pearl of China

Vanguard tried to stop Papa. “How dare you praise that American cultural imperialist!” he yelled.

“Down with Absalom!” Papa shouted back as he punched his fists into the air. “I salute Comrade Vanguard!” Turning toward Mao’s portrait on the wall, he bowed deeply. “I’ll confess more to you, Chairman Mao!”

“More confessions!” the crowd cheered. “More confessions!”

Papa carried on. “Chairman Mao teaches us that ‘we must educate the masses by exposing what our enemy has done.’ Now, let me tell you what Jesus Christ has done.”

I learned from Papa not to “swim against the current.” I still felt hurt when children called me evil, but I no longer felt guilty. My true healing started when I began to help Papa with his guerrilla church.

To his amazement, Papa started to receive shocking confessions. Although he did not share them with me at first, eventually he did. I learned that Carpenter Chan had confessed that he had been a secret member of the Communist Party and Vanguard had been his leader. Carpenter Chan joined the party in 1949 believing that Mao and the Communists represented the poor. Carpenter Chan’s assigned task was to report on Papa. However, Chan became troubled when he realized how flawed and power-hungry Vanguard was. As the years went by, Carpenter Chan became convinced that Vanguard was a false prophet and Mao a false God.

My childhood memories were like splendid Imperial Palaces where I wandered and lingered. Often I imagined that Pearl and I were reunited. That scene was my favorite daydream. I felt closest to God when thinking about Pearl. I considered such moments like opening gifts from heaven.

Unlike me, my daughter, Rouge, was a realist, especially after her father’s death. Memories weren’t the same to her as they were to me. She chose to forget over remembering.

I would live with Rouge until she was in her forties and finally married. My son-in-law was a hardware-factory technician who had lost his wife to illness. The man struggled to raise his two young daughters. I was pleased when Rouge married him and adopted both girls. A year later Rouge gave birth to her own baby girl. My favorite activity was taking my granddaughters to visit the places where Pearl and I used to play hide-and-seek. I enjoyed the sunshine and the gentle rolling scenery, especially when the wind blew softly, brushing against my face. During such moments, I forgot how old I was. I felt like a girl again until one of my granddaughters started singing Carie’s favorite song and I realized that she wasn’t Pearl. That’s when I wondered if Pearl was still alive.

The day before Chinese New Year’s Eve in 1971, Papa came with a surprise.

“Pearl Buck will speak on Voice of America!” Papa could barely contain his excitement.

So, she was alive! I got down on my knees and thanked God. It had been thirty-seven years since I had last seen her. I was white-haired and imagined her to be the same.

It was no use when Papa advised people not to come.

“It’s an enemy radio station,” Papa warned. “You will be considered a traitor if caught listening. You will be arrested and sent to prison.”

The day was carefully planned. The secret gathering would be disguised as a Chinese New Year’s banquet.

I was surprised when Vanguard and his assistant, nicknamed Catfish, walked into the church moments before the broadcast.

“Secretary Vanguard, welcome, and please join us,” Papa greeted the two with a smile.

I pulled Papa aside and whispered in his ear, “Have you lost your mind?”

Papa ignored me. He took out his radio and began to set it up.

“Bring out the best wine for our boss,” Papa said.

People started to crawl out of their sleeping boxes and climb down the ropes. Carpenter Chan and Lilac came to stand near Papa. Behind them were Bumpkin Emperor and his sworn brothers.

The hallway and the dining area soon became crowded.

Papa poured wine and made sure that Vanguard and Catfish had the largest share. He poured an inch into the other glasses, but filled theirs to the top. Papa made a toast. “Let’s drink to demonstrate our loyalty to Chairman Mao!”

Vanguard had to drink all of his wine. Papa waited until Vanguard’s glass was empty before he refilled it and toasted to Mao’s health. Glasses were emptied and refilled again. Papa’s third toast was to the victory of the Cultural Revolution. The fourth full glass and toast were for Vanguard’s continued success in leading Chin-kiang into Communism.

When Vanguard slipped from the chair onto the floor, his face was the color of a rooster’s comb. Catfish was still awake, but Papa ignored him and changed the radio’s channel. The church filled with the sound of Voice of America.

We listened intently.

In Mandarin the host introduced Pearl S. Buck.

I stopped breathing when I heard a female voice say in Chin-kiang-accented Mandarin, “Happy Chinese New Year! I am Pearl Sydenstricker Buck.”

The first reaction was that no one could believe their ears. We all thought that it was our imagination.

As the conversation continued, the reality sank in.

“It’s her! It’s our Pearl!” Jumping for joy, we screamed and hugged each other.

“Happy New Year to you too, Pearl!” Papa said. He was smiling, but tears streamed down his cheeks.

It was as if she had never left China. Her accent hadn’t changed. Her tone was gentle and clear. She began to tell us about her life. We had little understanding of the events she was talking about, such as the Great Depression and the Vietnam War. But it didn’t matter. We were gathered to hear her voice. The fact that she was alive filled me with happiness.

Pearl talked about her books, including her translation of All Men Are Brothers. She mentioned that The Good Earth had been made into an American movie. “Although it’s a wonderful movie,” she said, “I am afraid that you wouldn’t like it, because all the Chinese characters are played by Western actors. They all have high noses and speak English.” She said that she lived in Pennsylvania and had adopted eight children, most of them of Asian descent.

We wept when Pearl said that she wanted to visit China.

“The details of my youth have become more and more clear to me as I have aged.” We could hear that Pearl’s voice was full of emotion. “When I close my eyes, I see Chin-kiang’s hills and fields at dawn and dusk, in sunshine and in moonlight, in summer green and winter snow.” She said she missed the Chinese New Year’s celebration the most. “I would be having a banquet with my friends right now if I were among them. As we all know, to be Chinese means one lives to eat.”

The host asked Pearl to describe a typical scene in Chin-kiang for the world’s listeners.

She paused for a moment and then replied, “A typical scene would be the mist over the big pond under the weeping willows. There would be frail clouds in the sky, and the water would shine silver. Against this background, I would see a great white heron standing on one stalk of a leg.”

I let my tears flow as I imagined the smile on my friend’s face.

Pearl went on. “My American friends often praise Chinese artists for their vivid imaginations, but no, let me tell you, the artist only puts down what he sees. I grew up and spent forty years of my life enjoying such scenery. It is the China I know and the China I continue to live in within my mind.”

Catfish grew terrified as he listened. He was not drunk and was aware of the consequences. He slapped Vanguard’s face and splashed water over him. “Boss! Wake up! We must go!”

Like a pile of wet mud, Vanguard did not move.

“We are trapped!” Catfish became hysterical. He turned to Papa and threatened, “I’m going to report this!”