Life Is Beautiful

For the past few weeks, I have been thinking about writing about fear. Having worked like a dog for six weeks in a row on three reports with lots and lots of data, I was exhausted and stressed about meeting endless deadlines. Then last week there was this miserable cold I couldn't shake. All these circumstances made the unusually high amount of anxiety seem somewhat normal.

But myself and a few people close to me know that there's something beyond that. For the weeks I had been busy, I had been putting off one thing -- going to the doctor to pick up test results for my six-month checkup. I had some results already -- most of the scans looked fine and most of the blood work was good. But there were a few results that I hadn't seen.

Yesterday, I was finally able to take half a day off to see my doctor. Everything seems all right, she told me.

What she said was no surprise. In the four years I've been in remission (four years tomorrow!), I had almost always been told I was fine (aside from a couple of false alarms). Being told I'm fine is what I've always expected. It's so natural. But at the same time it's funny how, as the time span between checkups get longer and memories of the scent of chemo and hospital rooms fade further, the uneasiness and the fidgeting on my part grow.

I can't pinpoint what the exact feeling is. I can't describe it. So I tried to give it a name. And fear is the only word I could think of, even though it's not an exact match.

Fear is an unfamiliar word to me. Right after college, I flew across the Pacific Ocean to study in the U.S., in a culture completely different from my own. After that, I worked in journalism, a profession where even those whose native tongue is English can never stop honing their English language skills. Not to mention the rude stares, the doors shut in your face, the occasional threats all journalists have to face from time to time in their careers (Most days are wonderful, of course). Then working part-time through my treatment, struggling to regain physical (and mental) strength after the treatment. And moving back to a country where the health care is a lot more inferior to that of the U.S. All of the above are scary things. Yet I was never deterred.

Why is the feeling of fear sharper than ever now?

I have no answer to that. I remember a friend told me that after being in remission for five years, his wife still doesn't like to call herself cured from cancer. We all know there's no cure. Maybe it's that tiny inkling that it might always come back. Maybe it's the remote possibility that even everyone who hasn't been hit by a major illness or misfortune faces but is more eminent to us the survivors -- those of us who've been there.

Fear is a powerful thing.

Luckily, it's also temporary. I was going to write a blog after coming back from the doctor's office, but then I no longer felt like I had much to say about fear -- a word I had been thinking about and had a lot of questions about. Today that word seems even further away from me. I don't feel any of it now.

A college friend congratulated me like this: "Now four years. Then five. Then 10. Then you can have a huge 60-year celebration like our country just did!!"

I laughed. We both know that most likely I will not live another 60 years. I'm not even sure if I want to. And there's no guarantee that I will be safe from cancer from now on. But hearing him say that so-matter-of-factly, as if it's the most natural thing to be able to live forever and just, be, is amazingly comforting and warm to me. And knowing there's so much more to look forward to is -- just grand.

Just like fear, hope is also a very powerful thing.


Taken at the Great Wall

还记得读新闻的时候，有一次NPR著名节目主持人Juan Williams来我们学校作客，他给我们这些在座的学生讲了很多做广播电视新闻的经历，还打比方说做广播，就好像是在观众的床边给他们讲故事，要亲切、娓娓道来，而电视则不然，电视上持不同观点的人经常会象吵架一样激烈的辩论，这种模式很confrontational. （他本人广播电视都做过。）

最近时常想起他的这句话，因为开始从网上下载几个以前很喜欢的NPR节目。其中一个是Terry Gross主持的，采访电影、电视艺人，作家，有时候政客的节目。Terry的节目，就好像是在你的床边给你讲故事，她让你根本感觉不出她是以著名主持人的身份在做采访这份工作，相反，她让你觉得你只是有机会听到了她和一个老朋友的聊天，而采访中的精彩细节和少为人知的故事，正是让听众能觉得格外享受的地方。

Terry做这一行几十年了，有时候我觉得她采访过全世界所有的人 －－ 经常什么名人去世了，电台就回放当年她采访该人的片断。

上周她采访了两个我很感兴趣的人：一个是我最佩服的记者Seymour Hersh;一个是网球巨匠阿加西。

Hersh是著名的investigative reporter,以他的深度报道出名。早在1969年，他曾揭露在美国对越战争中的My Lai Massacre，引发了美国公众对他们自己国家的批判和更多的人要求美国撤军。他也因为这一系列报道而获得新闻界最高奖Pulitzer Prize. 在2004年，大家都知道的美国军人对在Abu Ghraib监狱的囚犯的侵犯和虐待，又是Hersh最早发现、报道的。其他的这种深度、准确的报道无数。我很佩服Hersh, 因为在现在这个浮躁的世界，他居然几十年如一日的去挖掘一些大部分普通民众莫不关心的、却在道义上有着深远影响的事。他不是那种把公关人员撰写的软文直接署名刊登的记者，不是那种遇到大公司、大财团的威胁就退缩的记者，他是真正有良心、有正义感的记者。他是人民真正需要的记者，因为通过他的劳动，人们可以了解到政府或其他掌握着权利的人和部门所做的龌龊行径，从而愤怒，从而要求justice。

阿加西就不用说了，有天赋，有个性，而且和所有人一样，有缺陷。他最近新出了回忆录"Open"。

Terry和两位客人谈他们最近的作品，她的低调、谦和、好奇、智慧使的被采访者能够完全放开，去对和她讲述他们的故事，仿佛忘记了在演播室的外边，有着很大的一个人群在听他们的对话，听他们的故事，了解－－哪怕只是一点点 －－ 他们的内心世界。听这样的采访（这两天晚上我还真的是把iphone放到枕边听的广播片断），真的是一种很难得的享受。


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最近总是觉得很torn，不知道是应该用英文还是中文写博客好。英文是我习惯的写作环境，因为毕竟原来就是做这行的，也觉得如果要练习写作，就应该用英文。但又的时候有看到有朋友见到我的英文博客就roll their eyes，况且现在完全浸入在中文的环境中，又觉得也许应该多写一些中文的博客。就在这样迷惑中，上周看完了“The Kite Runner"之后，一直想写点什么，却无法动笔。呵呵。

通常我是不太看英文书的中文译本的，总觉得既然能够读英文原作，和作者更直接的交流，就不应该在中间再夹一个翻译。不过最近看了《骆驼图书馆》的翻译版。因为是朋友借给我的，强烈推荐的，故事情节也还算有意思，就用几个晚上把它翻完了。

从书的名字，应该不难猜出它是关于往哪一个荒芜的沙漠地区送树的故事。事实上也是，《骆驼图书馆》写了一个纽约的女图书馆员，为了寻找生活的意义，从平淡无奇的都市生活现状中走出来，到肯尼亚的移动图书馆去给当地人送书的故事。故事描绘了女图书馆员对不凡的生活的向往，也是对adventure的渴求。

但更有意思的书中反映的当地的传统文化和外面所谓文明世界带来的文化的冲突。在肯尼亚偏僻、贫困、落后的村庄，温饱还成问题，人们哪里会有经历去追求读书这种精神生活，有一个当地的祖母在移动图书馆到来之前只读过圣经一本书，还从那里学来了数百年前、和当今口语话英语格格不入的古英语（比如那时的"you", 是"thou")。在这种情况下，大多数人会觉得骆驼背上的移动图书馆是件好事，是给当地带来教育、知识、文化的机会。书中也描写了书给当地有个女孩的生活注入无限新的动力。 但是，当地有的居民不认为移动图书馆是件好事，他们说，村里的知识是通过老一代在实践过程中教新一代人这样一代一代传下来的，那些老人的知识比任何一本书都更加丰富和宝贵。为什么一定要引进西方世界的所谓“文明”呢？

我觉得此话虽然听上去偏激，其实不无道理。虽然了解外面的世界，学习新的知识是好的，但这些村庄有他们自己的传统和文化，而保留这些传统文化，让它流传下去，是一样很重要的事情。随着通讯业的发达、世界交流的增多和西方发达国家文化的主流化和迅速传播，对不同少数人的传统文化的保留越来越成为一件迫在眉睫的事了。

我们在做慈善事业的时候，经常是按照自己的思维方式，去考虑受益人需要什么什么样，让他们按照我们“正常”的轨迹来发展，而有多少人又会考虑到被帮助人的需求，从被帮助人的角度去看问题呢？

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In Chinese, there's a saying, "One will not read a book unless it's borrowed." It was saying how people tend not to value a book unless it's one they do not own and have to return, which gives them the pressure to read the book. I love reading books passed on by friends, because that's how I got started reading. Still remember when I was in school in Reno, my roommate and best friend, a great reader and also someone in journalism, used to recommend me books and movies she liked. We would go to used bookstores together (one of my favorite things to do, as for a few dollars you can get a great book, most of the time almost new) and she would point to a certain book and tell me about it.

It's wonderful when we both like a book or a writer, and we could talk about it forever. Sometimes, she would tell me that she didn't really like a certain writer I liked. But she respected my choice and bought me books by that writer as a gift. 

After I graduated, I moved away for my new job. And she has since left the city as well. But each time we got together, we'd still talk about books among many other things, and when we had time, we'd still visit used bookstores together. Sometimes, we'd still sit on opposite ends of a couch, quietly, each having something to read, and only to speak when we wanted to share something really interesting from the book.

Another friend of mine, also in journalism, used to mail me books he's read. It's so nice to get books or book recommendations from friends. Usually these books are a great read. You also feel like each time you read a book, you get closer to the person who recommends it.

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一个朋友最近把他喜欢的歌拷了一些给我，里面有几个我喜欢的美国巨星，可让我吃惊的是，我回家后最先试听的居然是不那么出名的李健的歌。说起来我和李健是高中校友（人怎么都这么爱套近乎啊），但是不同年级，也没什么太多的接触。当时只记得他总在演出中唱潭永林的歌，学的挺象的，但是当时也没觉得他怎么着，结果他唱着唱着就唱进了清华，让我万分羡慕。我也试着唱了，清华没要我。

后来大学毕业后我就出国了，一走九年，也没太关心国内的事，只是听说过水木年华，并没听过他们的歌。一直到两年前回国，EJ的车里有时会放李健的歌，她讲起比较欣赏李健的不张扬，终于今年一冲动买了他的专辑《想念你》，一听，原来那么好听！声音是那么的干净、清澈、委婉，没有商业味，歌都是自己写的，也找到了自己的风格，不张扬，但却带着音乐人的自信。这次听了同学给我的李健翻唱的一些老歌（当时觉得有一点惭愧没自己花钱去买他的CD），也特别喜欢。有几首是我本来就喜欢的旋律，他通过自己的诠释唱出来，听着让人很舒心。真有才啊。佩服！

今天北京下了今年冬天的第一场雪。一早起来就看到外面白茫茫的，匆匆忙忙的出去见一个工作上的contact. 车已经变成了一座白色的小山，我的车上还没来得及备雪刷，就只好把一朋友送的除味碳的袋子用来“扫”车上的雪。

好久没有在雪里开车了，说时话在北京这两年也没太见过这么大的雪，只记得两年前的11月刚回来时，北京阴阴的、冷冷的，地铁上的人一脸疲惫，在这个浮躁的社会里挣扎。

现在看到一大片一大片的飘下来，周围都变成白色的世界，看上去很干净，也让我心情很好。开着车，大片大片的雪好像扑面而来，有一点以前在北达的感觉。记得当时，人家当地人都特别会在冰雪中开车，只有我常常控制不了车。还记得第一年到北达的时候当地的同事在一次吃饭时围着我讲了很多冬天在路上的恐怖故事，告诉我车里要备雪锹、沙袋、毛毯等等一系列的东西，以防开长途时遇到暴风雪。当时听的我蛮害怕的，但还是很懒，在那边住了两年也没有准备这些东西。现在全球变暖，到处天气都怪怪的，也不知道冬天应该做些什么样的准备。

这是我从五台山一座寺庙的一个门上抄来的一副对联，虽然不少朋友一看我在msn上用它做标题就知道这是有些禅意的话，我没什么文化，对佛学了解更少，当时姐姐指这句话给我看的时候，我觉得写的很好，是我很羡慕的境界，就抄了下来。

国庆8天长假，原本打算呆在家里，于是1号看了国庆游行，2号约了几个朋友爬慕田峪长城，一下子从8号烽火台走到20号，外加一小段野长城，把自己累的快傻了。结果3号，竟然和父母还有姐姐一家开车去五台山，最初出发的时候，计划3天就回来，还可以有时间做一些必要的购物、加一点班，没想到这次出行一发不可收拾，竟然从五台山临时决定去山西西南边的壶口，计划的3天的行程变成了5天，开车开了2，100多公里，回京后就只有睡觉的力气了，没有加班，该买的东西也没买。

至于山西的见闻，以后有时间再慢慢的讲 -- 现在要睡觉了。


五台山的白塔 － The White Tower at Mount Wutai