The cloud seemed to be less enthusiastic about hiding the sun this week. Not to miss such a good weather, Mom and I used most of our free time to stroll around a park to which a big supermarket adheres underground. We shopped in there occasionally, and I was surprised to find that people here in this developing city could actually shop in the big, international supermarket chain in the name of Wal-mart. Uniqueness of internationalization showed itself when I noticed that every staff member pinned a tag on which was printed not only Chinese name and staff number like every other supermarket, but also an English name. I was wondering, though, how many of them could even pronounce the names.Besides the park and the supermarket below, there were more places to go. For instance, Riverside Park, only within ten minute walking distance from where we live. Saturday was a fine day, and we all except Grandparents decided to spend the morning there. The park was built along a river that runs around 35 km southeastwards. The park, of course, doesn't run that long, but it is considered quite large as a public recreation area required no entrance fee.
We rode a speedboat to the other side of the river to get into the park, and then followed my two year old cousin to the Children's Rides section where we spent most of our time watching him take various kinds of rides. From his expression I could tell he was utterly happy and unaware of how bored I was!
Later upon on my pleading Mom granted my request of visiting a "Reptile Hall" inside the park, but she and Aunt weren't going because anyone in the reptile family would be anything to them but "interesting creature" as I think it to be. So I was accompanied by Aunt's husband, Uncle Song and his little son into the Hall.
All the exciting anticipation dripped from me when I stepped into the Hall, which turned out to be a corridor, a dozen small windows lined on one side and gray bare wall on the other. Inside each window lives one or two animals in the same species, sleeping, or rather, staying motionless, all looking unhealthy and helpless. Two crocodiles had to put their long tails against the glass-covered wall; a boa never found any possibility to fully stretch out its long body so that it coiled up like a dirty rope. Only the chameleons and a couple of poisonous snakes looked alive, as the latter pressed their triangular heads against the windows, eyeing the onlooker with two mung-beam-like eyes, their tongues in and out. It was very quiet in the room, especially when Uncle Song left to wait outside because his son was afraid of the animals. For a moment or two I stayed with these captured creatures, baffled by the idea of who was the real onlooker. Were the animals in one of the cubicles looking at me or I surveying them? Both, perhaps, but it is always man who has got freedom to be called "onlooker." Though very sympathetic over their harsh, "unanimalistic" condition, I felt lucky, if not happy, to observe snakes within only a few centimeters for the first time in my life.
So the second week slipped away almost unnoticed through the trips and visits. So eventful it was that I had to postpone my writing time and again until today when everyone seems busy to leave me alone in the bedroom presently possessed by me and Mom. Behind the computer screen is a window. Through it I see a construction site, which, in one or two years, will be turned into a shopping mall. I by no means think it is big enough to be called Guiyang First Class Shopping mall, but every inch of the land is precious due to the fact that the whole city is cramped by mountains and hills. In the purpose of preserving flat terrain for central parks and other facilities, most apartment buildings were built in strange tangles, many of them situated on slopes of the hills. My uncle's house, for example, is in a nine-story building on where is called Catty Slope, and he lives on ninth floor.
As the whole family arrived there on the invitation in the afternoon on Sunday, I once again tasted what it felt to climb up to the top of the non-elevator building. It was easier for me than for Grandparents whose hearts and bones are in a very bad condition. Yet, not to disappoint us they persisted to come.
A few more flights lead to a door. Walking through the door I stand on the roof where Uncle keeps a lovely, little garden (Everyone in Guizhou who bought the apartment on the top floor possesses the roof above). Surrounded the concreted L-shaped clearing is a long winding narrow flowerbed where grape vines make all there way to every directions on the wall, where Chinese roses burst in blossom, and where some other greeneries dot here and there, making the deck glow with vitality. Almost nothing has been changed since my first visit three years ago except that there used to be a small fish pool in which now no fish is to be seen. It is such a pleasure standing there and catching whiffs of fresh mountain air sent by breezes from the nearby mountain. In no time my exhaustion from climbing the stairs melted away.
Later we had a wonderful dinner served by Uncle. He is not only an excellent leader in his company but also a good cook popular with all the family members. But the dinner ended with worries as Grandpa became very sick for no apparent reason. By the time we were about to leave he was still unable to get up from bed, sweat rolling down from his head. He stayed overnight for recovery.
Fortunately, later as we found out, Grandpa only came down with what seemed like the problem in degusting system and got well within two days. But all the way back "home" that night I kept my mind working on a question: What is it like for Mom to see her parents becoming ailing? Then there will be one day when I am able to answer it in accordance to my own feelings. A quiver hit me when I thought of this. It was a warm night, but all of sudden I felt as if something sucked away all the warmth in me.
We must go on in spite of our wishes, however, for we could not eliminate even a tiny bit of effect time cast upon us.
