1981年10月，我被借調外語系組裝語音實驗室。期間，與兩三位工程師和技術員一起去了南京大學取經。那時人們賺錢不多，還不太有條件自費旅遊，往往假公濟私，就借出差的機會到處轉轉。我們去了中山陵，沿著392級花崗岩石階，拾級而上，體驗莊嚴、肅穆。還到南京長江大橋上走走，那時車輛不多，還能抽空快速地跑到橋中間，搶個鏡頭留個影。
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| 中山陵 Sun Yat-sen Mausoleum |
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| 中山陵 Sun Yat-sen Mausoleum |
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| 南京長江大橋 Nanjing Yangtze River Bridge |
到南京大學取了什麼經，我是不記得的。要回上海時，有位師傅想順便去一次老家武漢。於是我們都去了武漢，他回家時，我們就在旅館附近的街上走了走。有些地方正在施工，塵土飛揚的感覺很亂，就沒心思再轉了。
那時出差只是跟著走，根本不知道東南西北，連南京與武漢的地理位置都沒概念。後來懂得看地圖了才知道，武漢不在回上海的路上，那次去武漢就不是順便彎一下了。
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| 候船室 Ferry waiting room（類似場景） 網圖 |
第二天搭船回滬。在武漢的碼頭等船時，擁擠的候船室裡，忽然來了好幾個可能是湖北藝術學院（現湖北美術學院）的大學生來寫生。一個男生走過來，靦腆地問是否可以幫我畫張像。我答應了。畫完後他將那張鉛筆畫給了我，紙是淺藍色的，比信紙大點兒。
這便是我第一次當藝術家或許是那個時候未來藝術家的模特兒。坐在候船室擁擠的長排木椅上，被人瞅著畫著，有點不自在。這張畫稿保存了很久，後來在奔波的遷徙中弄丟了，挺可惜的。那男孩兒現在該是個畫家了吧。
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| 船艙草圖 Cabin sketch |
在回上海的船艙裡，我的床對面有兩個有趣的人。上舖是個中年婦女，開朗健談；下舖那個中年男子，看起來像是個文人，卻始終睡著。他只要一醒來，馬上就摸出酒瓶灌上一口，倒頭又睡。那婦女說，他們兩個都是勞改農場的。男的曾被打成右派，她自己是因為搓麻將賭博被抓。他們倆都是文革前被判的刑，勞改期滿後，都留在了當地。
看著那睡眼惺忪的男人，令人覺得好心疼，他這個人已經被毀了。借酒消愁，愁更愁啊。或許他已經過了消愁的階段了，暈暈乎乎的，等待上蒼的召喚呢。
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A Brief Glance at Nanjing and Wuhan, 1981: Encountering Broken Lives Aboard the Yangtze River Ferry
In October 1981, I was temporarily transferred to the Foreign Languages Department to help assemble a language laboratory. During that time, I traveled to Nanjing University with two or three engineers and technicians to learn from their experience. In those days, people did not earn much and rarely had the means for self-funded travel, so we often used business trips as an excuse to sightsee at public expense. We visited the Sun Yat-sen Mausoleum, walking up the 392 granite steps to experience the solemnity. We also walked onto the Nanjing Yangtze River Bridge; traffic was light back then, so we managed to find a quick gap to run to the middle of the bridge and snap a photograph.
As for what experience we actually gained at Nanjing University, I no longer remember. When it was time to return to Shanghai, one of the master technicians wanted to visit his hometown of Wuhan on the way. So, we all went to Wuhan. While he visited his family, the rest of us walked around the streets near our hotel. Some areas were under construction, and the dusty, chaotic surroundings left us with little desire to explore further.
Back then, I just followed others on business trips without any sense of direction; I did not even have a conceptual grasp of the geography between Nanjing and Wuhan. It was only later, when I learned to read maps, that I realized Wuhan was not on the way back to Shanghai at all, and that detour was by no means a minor twist on the route.
The next day, we caught a boat back to Shanghai. While waiting at the Wuhan pier, several students, likely from the Hubei Institute of Fine Arts, suddenly walked into the crowded waiting room to sketch. A boy walked over and timidly asked if he could draw a portrait of me. I agreed. Once he finished, he handed the pencil sketch to me. The paper was light blue and slightly larger than regular letter paper.
That was the first time I ever modeled for an artist, or perhaps a future artist. Sitting on the long, crowded wooden bench in the waiting room, being watched and sketched made me feel a bit self-conscious. I kept this sketch for a very long time, but it was eventually lost during subsequent relocations, which remains a regret.
That boy must be a painter by now. Inside the ship's cabin on the way to Shanghai, there were two interesting people opposite my berth. The upper berth was occupied by a middle-aged woman who was cheerful and talkative. The man on the lower berth looked like a man of letters, yet he slept the entire time. The moment he woke up, he would immediately fish out a liquor bottle, take a gulp, and instantly drop back to sleep. The woman mentioned that they were both from a labor reform camp. The man had once been labeled a Rightist, and she herself had been arrested for gambling over a game of mahjong. Both of them had been sentenced before the Cultural Revolution, and upon completing their sentences, they both remained in the local area to work.
Looking at that bleary-eyed man brought a deep ache to my heart. This person had already been completely destroyed. He was drinking to drown his sorrows, yet the sorrows only grew heavier. Or perhaps, he had already passed the stage of drowning sorrows; he was simply drifting in a stupor, waiting for the calling of the Almighty.
特別感謝 Gemini AI 提供充滿活力的翻譯和文本潤色。
Special thanks to Gemini AI for providing the spirited translation and text refinement.
第三百六十八篇
