My na is Passerby A, a reliable and versatile all-in-one tool for ho and travel.
Almost everyone who knows my na is shocked by how casual it is, and most of them ask, "What were your parents thinking?"
I can answer that question, but I usually don't.
What were my parents thinking? They were so eager to be trendy that they didn't care how others would perceive with this na.
I was born into a primitive ethnic group in the deep mountains of southwestern China. These so-called primitive people went directly from a tribal society to modern civilization without experiencing the centuries of evolution through the slave and feudal eras.
My great-grandmother once told that about twenty years before I was born, a group of strangely dressed people who called themselves explorers suddenly appeared in the mountains.
After they arrived in our village, life underwent a complete transformation. They built roads connecting to the outside world, brought in cent and bricks, and started constructing houses and a school on open land. From the day it was established, this school charged no tuition. The principal and teachers persuaded everyone, from octogenarians to toddlers just learning to walk, to attend and taught them literacy, Mandarin Chinese, general knowledge, and vocational skills...
It took them a long ti to get the villagers to accept them, their new ways, and their knowledge. It was an arduous process; initially, everyone was hostile toward them, and even basic communication was extrely difficult.
Before they arrived, my ancestors had lived simple lives of eating, drinking, sleeping, farming, hunting, marrying, and having children—just eting their basic survival needs. They lived simply but happily for generations.
By the ti I was born, sending children to school had beco a consensus in every household.
My parents grew up amid the shock of modern society. They followed their parents' arrangents, got married, and had , all while harboring increasing aspirations and pursuits for the outside world.
So daring people had left the village for the outside world years ago, rarely sending back news. So although my parents dread of leaving the deep mountains, they never took that step.
Until the first person who had left returned, bringing truckload after truckload of bricks and cent to build a house even grander than the school, making everyone green with envy.
My parents were among those envious ones.
They brought , barely able to walk, to tour the newly built mansion. It was truly marvelous—no leaks, no dirt floors, and colorful patterns on the ground.
"Did you see how fat Guo Wa got? He looks like a ss."
"How could he not be fat? Didn't you just hear him say he eats at every day out there—chicken, duck, fish, pork, beef, mutton—rotating through them all."
"I want to eat that too."
"Who doesn't?"
Lured by the prospect of eating at daily, they left with my grandparents and great-grandmother and walked out of the deep mountains, never to return.
Children in the village were only given a Chinese na and officially registered when they started elentary school.
Grandfather considered naming a big deal, so he called in many favors and sent out gifts to eventually get in touch with my parents.
He carefully took the old-fashioned phone from the principal's hand and bellowed a loud "Hello" into it.
My parents scolded him for his lack of trendiness with his booming voice.
Grandfather knew phone calls cost money, so he didn't dally and stated his purpose.
"Let's just call him Passerby A," my long-absent father said without a second thought.
"Great na! Trendy! Fashionable!" my mother chid in.
My parents treated my schooling as a major event, sending new clothes, a backpack, and so jerky for the first ti—that sweet, delicious jerky almost made cry!
In fact, I did cry.
For the next decade or so, my parents were nowhere to be heard from. I spent my days ssing around at school, learning a little of everything but mastering nothing. During that ti, I said goodbye to my great-grandmother, grandfather, grandmother, and our family's big yellow dog.
Before she passed, Grandmother kept muttering Father's na. Unfortunately, I couldn't find him. Ever since Great-Grandmother fell ill, we had been trying to locate my parents, sending word through others, but either we couldn't find them or we were told they knew but still wouldn't co back. We called their old number, but we could no longer reach them.
I graduated from school sowhat absent-mindedly with an ill-defined degree.
With not even a dog left at ho, I packed my bags on graduation day and left the deep mountains with a teacher returning ho for vacation.
What a world it was!
Airplanes, trains, highways, mountains, rivers, lakes, seas, high-rises...
Being there was a thousand tis more shocking than any image or video.
When I reached the city where my parents lived, I couldn't find them right away, so I took a job as an apprentice and server at a small restaurant that provided room and board. I savored a wonderful life of eating at until full every day. Although my living quarters were cramped, dim, and shared, the room didn't leak, and I had hot water for showers anyti.
So good!
Aside from the dormitory, restaurant, and markets, I hardly went anywhere else.
After about two years, I finally located my parents through a fellow villager.
My dad watched the door at a gambling den, and my mom dolled herself up at a hair salon—what the heck!
I couldn't fathom why they had ended up like this.
Was it that hard to find a job in this city that could earn enough to support themselves and buy at?
"It's not hard to simply eat and live," my ntor explained. "The hard part is resisting the ubiquitous temptations."
Seeing my confusion, he sighed, took a day off from the boss, and treated to an all-you-can-eat buffet—my first ti eating so many delicious foods. I had no idea there could be such a vast difference between ats! As soon as I left the buffet, I vomited right at the entrance.
Passersby pinched their noses and hurried away, glaring at with disdain.
My ntor bought new clothes—new, well-fitting, brightly colored ones without patches or holes, my first ti wearing such garnts.
That night, I didn't return to the employee dorms. My ntor let stay at an inexpensive motel, just 198 yuan for the night.
But back then, I only made 600 yuan a month.
The pillows were soft, the mattress was soft, the light comforter was warm, and everywhere was clean and bright, with even the air tasting sweet and fragrant.
I had never slept so comfortably! This must be heaven!
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