The Recollections of Hu Xiujie

[Harstad, Norway* is a thriving postwar port, and as with any way station, its inhabitants are not always lawful ones. This damp and rundown mansion bears traces of its former glory as the summer home of a local politician, but the memories are faint indeed. In the musty parlor, a group of girls lounge; some talking, others whispering. One such 'employee' comes highly recommended and is ushered forward by the formidable Madam Zheng. Hu Xiujie has dark skin and doe-like eyes that flutter attractively, but as in many of the girls here, her levity seems a sham. Madam Zheng directs us to the long benches in the kitchen, then seats herself and begins to translate. Her English is perfect.]

First, I must tell you about my family. It's important.

Please, go ahead.

We were Dongxiang, my family and I, so I managed to have a sister.* I felt lucky to be the only girl at school with someone always there to play with. Sure, Bao-Yu had a brother and Li's mother was rumored to have twins at home, but Li was too old to be bothered much by babies and Bao-Yu was deaf and stupid to boot! I had Fujan.

[As Madam Zheng translates this last part, Xiujie whimpers slightly at her sister's name. The madam turns to admonish her, but the girl is not discouraged.]

When she was a baby, we called her Howler, and the name stuck. When she was starting primary school, the local boys would taunt her and call her nickname and pelt her with pine cones, pretending to be monkeys. I scared them away like a good big sister should. [Eyes downcast.] I felt powerful.

Our parents had wanted a boy. Father's face had fallen when the doctor declared another girl, but he bundled me into his arms and brought me in to greet my mother anyways. We were loved; of that I'm sure.

Mother was a beauty, although now that I can no longer picture her face, I'm not sure if that was ever true or just the devotion of a little girl. Father was something of a bigwig in our small hamlet. Initially a pariah among the superstitious northerners, he soon learned to forsake his favorite meals and talk and gesture as they did. Never a religious man, it would still choke him to eat pork when that was the only meat available. And even I could tell he was embarrassed by his accent. Mother did her best to make sure that Fujan and I fit in, but that was impossible with a scarf around your hair. As soon as I was out of my father's sight, I would whip it from my head and try to hide it in my schoolbag. I remember hanging my head in shame as the teacher chastised the getup Father insisted I wear for some forgotten holiday. "Those tears should be for your people!" he decreed, looking at my puffy face that evening.

When I was almost eight, those louder sentiments of his were quickly stifled. By some feat or fortune or bribe, my father landed a job as the local health census taker. Every morning he would rise with the chickens and bicycle to the next town over, returning in the evening looking spent and proud.

And this changed things?

The villagers treated him differently now. Their stares and poorly-hidden titters at this awkward, bearded man were soon replaced with deeper bows and gifts of eggs for the richest man in the village. Father trimmed his beard and locked many of the stranger heirlooms away from sight. We got a fancy television, so Fujan and I became popular as well.

This was our life for years. We were seen as barely-civilized barbarians by these backwards country bumpkins, but barbarians who had to be respected because we were party government. After the television, the playground taunting was never overt, but I could sometimes pick up on it. "Muslim," this one boy would hiss whenever I beat him on a test. Fujan and I stayed strong together. We had each other.

Tell me about the outbreak.

I know nothing about the outbreak. I got out, didn't I?

Please, anything you can recall.

[Xiujie shakes her head, and Madam Zheng smiles appreciatively. Knowing what is expected next, I slide a pack of imported sugar across the table. Madam Zheng nods her approval at this payment more valuable than coin. The interview can continue.]

One day Father came home looking troubled. It had been unusually hot that afternoon, and the sun still flared in the west instead of sinking into twilight. Mother thought that maybe he had taken in the heat, so she parked him outside beneath the poplar tree and sent me and Fujan scurrying for cool towels and tea to drink. When we came back, now dutifully wearing our own headscarves, he and Mother were conferring in lowered voices.

We were an unusually open family. This secrecy was troubling, and Fujan began to whine about how she couldn't hear. I hushed her, expecting another lecture on respect for one's elders, but Mother only took the towels and shooed us away.

There was blood on my father's wrist. I cried out, but Mother fixed me with a stony stare and I followed Fujan inside to watch television. The news channel was blacked out today and that pleased us because we could watch a cartoon movie instead.

So the authorities were already limiting the news?

How should I know? We were children in an unimportant little village in the middle of nowhere. I doubt anyone had a newspaper, so I can't give you an accurate picture, you understand.

I see. But you would agree that the government was already aware of the situation?

Of course they knew! They knew everything and the party didn't tell us. Not even Father! They might have at least warned him. Health census taker. Ostensibly, the position was to track birth defects, diabetes; to see which areas could most easily be ignored.

I'm not sure I follow…

[She laughs, rather maniacally.]

I must sound cynical, don't I? But please understand. Throughout my entire childhood, the only government service that touched our village was the school. There was no health census back then. Sure, we joined our party squads and learned our rote lines like good Chinese children, but no doctor would ever set up shop in our village and no jobs would ever come to us. And we weren't even that poor! I'm saying it was all a façade. The government could say they were investigating ways to improve country life and send out a person like my father to look all officious, but that would be all. They would never have to do anything more. And look! They were opening up, employing a minority! A Muslim!

[Xiujie's face is uncharacteristically red following this outburst.]

So you think the health census was a farce.

[She shrugs, a gesture no doubt learned from the local population.]

It makes sense.

[She looks down at the table.]

They must have learned of it from people like my father. They must have been relying on people like him to track the outbreak, and they didn't even tell him what to look for.

He was a good man, my father. He told his supervisor everything, dutifully calling in his injury report and filing forms A through F before leaving for the day.

Fujan was engrossed in her cartoons, and I pressed my ear to the gap in the door, eavesdropping on all of this as my father relayed it to my mother. His supervisor had seemed confused, he said. "No wonder!" said Mother. "The old woman bit you! She must have been possessed!" The supervisor had been dialing provincial authorities when he left for home, he mused. "Maybe I will be getting a shot," he said. "Tetanus!" Father always liked to show off his learning. He took pride in his job and read all the pamphlets he delivered.

I remember him saying this exactly. I remember it very clearly for at that moment, a van came hurtling up our street. Cars were rare for us and it was a shock to see these soldiers in white piling out.

How did you know they were soldiers?

They carried guns.

Mother shrieked when she saw them pounding her way and dropped the porcelain teacups. Father stood up and tried to greet them with a proper bow, but they beat him in the gut and pushed him to the dirt of the courtyard. Mother reached for the door and I knew in an instant what she would say. Hide! screamed her frantic eyes. I dived into the alcove, pulling coats atop myself and crushing trinkets with my bottom. We were not reactionaries, I thought. We were not discontents. I didn't understand.

"Eh?" said Fujan as the door burst open. They were on her in a moment, pulling her back towards the van – my mother also – both screaming like banshees.

These soldiers, they didn't even look for me. Maybe they were so used to being little kings that they forgot that some of us have siblings. Another failure of the communist party. All its paperwork and records couldn't find a firstborn child. I kept my mouth clamped shut long after I heard them drive away.

Do you know where they were taken?

My school, for all its peeling paint and tiny population, had a gym. It worked as a village meeting hall, a gathering place for rallies and things like that. The janitor's son took me there later when I finally ventured out. Someone had tried to scrub the walls with bleach, but brown stains remained soaked into the concrete.

What did you do next?

What does a girl do when she's lost her entire family? I dropped Li's hand and just started walking. We were in Gansu, near the border. In my mind, the border might as well have been the end of the world. I wanted to fall through it; never to look on this earth again.

But you made it past the Wall? Past the guards?

I was taken in by a shetou, OK? Taken. I was fourteen; you can fill in the rest.

[Xiujie is angry now. No matter how much I coax or Madam Zheng scolds, I cannot get her to elaborate. A steady rocking motion grips her delicate body.]

That's all there is.

That's all there is.

* Prewar Harstad's economy centered on oil and shipbuilding. These industries were vital as tides turned and ocean-faring refugees sought repairs and refueling. The many surrounding islands are fertile and for the most part self-sufficient. The coast is guarded by the local Marinejegerkommandoen (navy ranger command), who are now retrofitted with bite-proof wetsuits.

* As a recognized ethnic minority group, Dongxiang couples were exempt from the PRC's One-Child Policy.