Sunday, February 10, 2013

Visiting My Father in Chengdu

My youngest aunt took me to my father’s workplace in Chengdu that summer when everything was slightly calmer, since my father stopped working in the oil institute’s dining hall. Unlike the Great Chinese Famine, he knew he was not going to be hungry working in the dining hall.  My uncle and aunt took me to a park. I was sitting on the front bar of the bike between the handlebars and the seat while my uncle pushed the bike and my aunt walked along. My uncle asked my aunt to join me on the bike by sitting on the back since she looked tired from walking. She did and we did not go far. Then for some reason, I turned back to see her, and one of my feet slipped into the bike’s wheel. They took me to the nearby hospital and my ankle was all swollen and I couldn’t walk for a few weeks.
     One day, my aunt carried me on her back to the hospital since I needed a check-up and to change the bandages. I noticed the wounded high school kids in the hospital, a lot of youngsters died during the Cultural Revolution. I guess I did not notice when I came the first time because of my own wound. On the way back, we were caught in a brief summer storm. My aunt was trying to run with me on her back to reach shelter. Instead, the police at the corner traffic tower let us in. The traffic tower is designed for one person to sit and direct the traffic light. So it had barely any place for us to stand. It was very kind of the traffic controller to let us in for those 15 minutes and I got a chance to watch him control all the light switches. That satisfied my long time curiosity about the traffic towers.

See more:
Mao's Bloody Revolution