Black rose spam

& lt& lt Hanoi in August. Chen Chen's masterpiece.

In Hanoi, ghosts often ask me, Japanese?

Shake your head and they will ask, Korean? Taiwan Province province? Hong Kong people?

No one seems to think that I am a mainlander. It seems that ghosts will naturally think of independent Japanese children when they see teenagers walking in the hot sun with their backpacks down.

The hotel is located in a deep alley in the center of the city. In the alleys of Hanoi, sunshine is everywhere. Most of the alleys are exquisite and slender French buildings. The wild rose climbed over the fence. Sometimes in the afternoon, it's so quiet that you can only hear the sound of water vapor evaporating on the leaves.

This hotel is owned by a Vietnamese woman. She likes to plant flowers on the balcony, and sooner or later she will go upstairs with a bucket to water the flowers. So, I wake up in the fragrance every morning.

The hotel has three floors. Most of the floors where I live are Japanese, and there are several British people studying in Guangzhou.

When I went out at night, I saw three or five groups of Japanese children laughing and drinking coffee in Japanese. They looked at me coming over with a key and said, together? Shook his head instinctively. I guess I just want to go out for a walk alone.

I envy them. Those Japanese kids.

Wearing pants and clothes one size larger. Use a Sony phone that I have never seen before. Almost all dyed yellow hair. Smile when you meet people. It is also said that Japanese high school students have the habit of traveling abroad. I am young, but I am used to walking in different places.

In the hotel at night, take a shower and watch TV. There are almost no TV stations in Vietnam. Most of them are American or Thai TV stations. I often watch domestic TV series such as "Golden Powder Family". But strangely, the voice is always the same person's voice.

On the streets of Hanoi, most French buildings that were colonized in the past have been preserved.

Not far from Lake Rapier. Tall trees are planted on both sides of the street, and cream-colored French villas are hidden among the green leaves. Now these villas have become the locations of European and American chambers of commerce, embassies and offices of multinational companies, or have been transformed into French bars, cafes and galleries.

I go to an unknown video store almost every day. All kinds of pirated CDs are sold there. There are popular CDs from Hongkong and Taiwan Province, as well as western jazz and rock music. Dvds are mostly Hollywood blockbusters with English subtitles. There are also many Hong Kong movies. I often see ghosts picking and whispering with interest. American men in Seattle like Bruce Lee.

Every time I go, I get something. For example, the Icelandic band in the 1960s and Sir Bill Evans. These are hard to buy in Hangzhou.

Those pirated CDs are very cheap, despite the rough packaging. When I can't sleep at night, I will open it and listen.

Bookstores put a large number of LP travel books in the most conspicuous position. Almost all of them are pirated. The price is usually $65438 +0. Most of them are about Southeast Asian countries and China. Later, I saw in the coffee shop that ghosts had a copy of LP, and almost all of them were pirated goods bought in Vietnam.

I often go to unknown galleries to see paintings. Most of them are abstract paintings. Vietnamese painters with indifferent expressions rarely talk to customers. Every painting has a high price tag.

Such as Cafe Kogawachi. I often order a cup of coffee by myself and sit in it for a long time. Or talk to ghosts. There are young Vietnamese waitresses in the shop, and they often hum songs gently when there are few guests.

Many ghosts come here with laptops and often warmly greet them to look at photos with themselves. One year 12 months, 9 months working and 3 months walking in different parts of the earth. They showed me the sunset shot at Angkor Wat. Saigon Square.

A thin young American girl came here alone because she likes Hanoi and has been here for two weeks.

Buy all kinds of fruits to eat every day. Dragon fruit rambutan dairy products. pineapple Wait, wait, wait

Hardly eat. When you are hungry, go to buy fruit or go to the rice noodle stand on the street.

There are few ghosts in the rice noodle stand. But Vietnamese people like it here. Even in the middle of the night, the rice noodle stand will not close. Vietnamese who have worked hard all day are sitting in the street, drinking beer and eating rice noodles. Vietnamese rice noodles usually put some fruits and lettuce. The boss will also play sad Vietnamese love songs with the old tape recorder.

I often spend time with those Vietnamese. Even though they know I'm from China, they seldom come to talk to me.

They talk and tell jokes in euphemistic Vietnamese. Even though I don't understand their language, what I can feel is their quiet life. And Hanoi gives people the same feeling, full of vitality, making people feel unusually practical and patient.

On my way to see the water puppet show, I passed St. Joseph's Catholic Church. I just looked outside and didn't go in. The church is tall and majestic, but the walls are mottled and moldy.

But at night, the sun is still fierce. The fruit stall owner is going to carry the burden home. Vietnamese children chase and play back and forth in front of the church. College students in national costumes are talking and laughing in groups of three with books. The driver stuffed a bunch of white jasmine flowers on the brakes of the tricycle. A family of three huddled on a motorcycle and sped home.

How I wish this life was my own.

Before I came to Hanoi, I read Anne Baby's Rose Island. She wrote in her book that Hanoi is a crazy city.

I saw Hanoi. Very sexy. Forbearance. Quiet. Compared with the noise of the city, the roar of motorcycles that fill your ears in the morning is insignificant.

So, how should we describe Hanoi?

It is such a city.

You can walk aimlessly in the streets of this city in flip-flops at will.

You can have iced coffee at any time. You can do nothing but think every day. Walk around.

Wake up every day with the fragrance of flowers and the roar of motorcycles. Sleep in the humid and sultry air.

This is Hanoi in my eyes. Simple and pure.

Never-ending winter:

1.

Until now, I haven't forgotten what happened in those years.

Memory is like a fragment, trembling helplessly in life.

That damp and cold southern town. That dirty and vibrant river. Those ships stranded on the river bank can't go back. That winter, I didn't start on time. Also, the girl named silly.

Oh, no. She is not stupid. Her name is Sasha.

2.

The southern town where I used to live is at the end of the Beijing-Hangzhou Canal.

This is a dirty river, which brings together all the misfortunes and past events in this town. It smells like garbage all day. The garbage on the shore wandered into the water. There are all kinds of stalls and shops lined up on the river bank. One deep and obscure alley after another spreads from the river like a blood vessel, and then it is tightly absorbed in this town. The light gray clouds on the river are stained with a little earthly filth. A large group of birds parked on old telephone poles will suddenly take off because of the harsh and urgent whistle.

I often feel that this is a constantly breathing river, and its vitality is overexploited and consumed.

Just like the huge particles that occupy my eyes, there is no way to raise my hand and wipe it off.

When I was young, I often looked forward to cargo ships from the north. Those boatmen usually park their boats by the canal and sell goods brought from the north. Weeks, even months. None of them will leave, they will live on the ship forever. Those shabby boats seem to be their home. Some people have taken root in this strange southern town without even leaving.

That's right. I met many children in the north. They all went to the south by boat with their parents. They have a good northern accent. Speaking some northern dialects that I don't understand. Those boys in the north, with distinct personalities, can play many novel games that I have never played. I often indulge in their adventurous experiences. I have been wandering with my parents since I was a child. All the days and nights are spent on the boat. Their lives are full of vagrancy. I don't know why, but I think it is a kind of courage that I admire.

From their mouths, the strange north finally has a shallow outline in my mind. I learned that there is an endless forest in the north. There is boiled corn porridge in the north. And the donkey I only heard of in fables.

They also said that it was snowing loudly and silently in the north.

Every winter, universities cover the whole world. There is bright white everywhere, which will sting your eyes. You can find a squirrel hole in the snow, where furry squirrels are curled up. The snowman piled at the door will not melt for weeks. They also said that there is a big lake in their hometown village. Every winter, the red-crowned crane flies to the lake to live. Villagers often feed some corn kernels or sorghum to red-crowned cranes.

I often listen with longing. Those wonderful experiences are beyond my imagination. Well, their so-called winter is different from the south after all. It usually doesn't snow in winter in this southern town. Even if it snows, it is very small and scattered around in the northwest wind, which is irregular. It is also difficult for the naked eye to tell that those substances similar to dandruff are actually snow. Even if it rains harder, it won't pile up. It seems that they have melted in the process of landing on the ground.

In this small winter in the south, there is no grand silent snow, only thorough cold.

Just as the winter was coming that year, a cargo ship from the north stopped on this cold and dirty canal.

The girl on the boat is called silly.

3.

Stupid is really stupid.

I felt this way when I first met her. Her eyes are always dull and her mouth is always saying things that people can't understand. I can see her sitting on that old boat every day when I pass the canal after school. The ship is full of goods. She sat in those goods. If she feels that someone is watching her, she will laugh foolishly. I feel that she is like those moldy goods.

The alley where I live is not far from the canal.

Every night, I can hear the noise from the dilapidated cargo ship, the broken beer bottles, the roar of men … and even the violent shaking of the cargo ship. Those voices mixed with violence stung my ears. My father once told me that they are said to be from Hebei and help people deliver goods here. But out of luck, the ship broke down and the goods fell into the water. The owner does not accept it. And no money. I can only stay here for the time being. It is said that they are not going to leave, and they are going to the south to make a living.

Every day, many old people gather in the southeast and northwest of the alley to chat. Sometimes you can hear them talking about stupidity. They said that on that ship, there lived a crazy female fool. Her father often beats her mother. Sometimes, even her.

I also often hear some busybodies ask silly, fool, does your father often beat your mother? And silly always smirked like that every time, and then squatted on the boat like a cargo.

At noon that day, I was reading in my room. After a long time, I found myself standing outside the window.

Why are you standing there? I asked her.

She kept giggling and didn't speak.

I'm a little curious. So I asked her again, what's your name?

She just stood there for a long time, as if thinking hard about something.

My name is silly. She whispered and ran away with a bang. That was the first time I knew her name.

I watched her run away. She wears a red rope on her head, which is swaying in the wind. Later, I found that silly often came to my window. Always don't talk every time. Every time I finish playing the tape, she will leave.

This time, she is not as quiet as before. She pointed to the tape recorder on my desk. Suddenly, I understood that she had come to listen to me play the tape. So I inserted the tape into the tape recorder. The music played in it is Schubert's serenade. Just stand still. After the music, she left again.

Later, she often came. Every time I come, it is always the same as before, just standing quietly. I don't care about her anymore, just reading my own book.

She came again that day. However, when she left, she put something on the windowsill.

I walked over and saw that it was a few immature wild hawthorn.

Then she came and occasionally brought something. Sometimes, it is a small apple. Sometimes, it is an orange and some wild fruits whose names I don't know. Gradually, I really want to remember her.

One night after school, when I came home, I saw some boys throwing silly stones. Those boys are holding a handful of pebbles picked up from the river. They laughed and threw stones at the fool crouching at the bow. And silly, just standing and giggling. I can't stand it any longer. I went over to the fool and said, get in the cabin quickly and don't let them bully you. She really listened to me, straightened up and got into the dark and damp cabin.

I can't help feeling a little pity. Since she appeared in this southern town, I haven't seen anyone treat her well, just some old people who occasionally feed her. In the cold winter, she always wears that gray coat and never seems to change it.

Her family is still like that. Her father always beats her mother.

Perhaps out of that little sympathy, I never bullied her. After a long time, I met Silly. Gradually, she will say something to me, but the preface is irrelevant, and it will take me a long time to understand.

She will take me to some places first. It is a hillside not far from the canal and not far from my alley. But I seldom go to that hillside to play. Stupid, but like a frequent visitor in the deep bush. She often squats down suddenly and picks the unknown things in the grass with her hands. Take a bite by yourself first, it seems to taste good, and then hand me some.

It takes about 10 minutes to walk through the lush bushes, and you can see a small clearing, which is the top of the hillside. The field of vision is also suddenly enlightened. I often stand in that open space with two silly people, not talking, just looking at the world under the hillside. Daimeng always squints, as if looking for something.

You can see the river that keeps breathing, like a hole, gurgling with blood. The same busy people, the faint sunshine in winter cast their humble shadows.

You can also see the stupid home-the shabby barge full of moldy goods.

4.

There is an abandoned chemical factory in the south of town.

In the past, I often smelled pungent chemical liquids around the factory. Later, the town responded to the call for environmental protection, the chemical plant closed, and the pungent smell disappeared. Everything in the workshop was hollowed out and moved away, leaving only two empty houses standing in the weeds. At night, it is like two big ships sailing alone.

This chemical plant has some history, just look at that long chimney. The cement on the chimney has completely fallen off, revealing a red head. In the crack of that brick, you can often see dark green moss, which constantly breeds moist memories.

I often look up under the chimney. The top of the chimney became a tiny particle and gradually disappeared into my sight.

There are narrow steps on the chimney, just like a ladder to the sky. Children often climb high along the pedals and even climb to the top of the chimney.

However, I have never climbed it. Because my father once told me never to climb that chimney. Because I heard that a child climbed that chimney and fell down and died. When I was young and timid, I thought it was a deep curse.

That night, Silly and I went to the abandoned chemical plant.

She pointed to the chimney and motioned me to climb it. I immediately remembered my father's advice and refused to climb up. Stand in situ and look at her timidly. Who knows, she climbed up skillfully, obviously not for the first time. She climbed to the top of the chimney. I stood below, shouting in panic, shouting silly to climb down. But I sat on a small pedal stupidly and didn't seem to hear my crying.

It was not until she did it for a long time that she climbed down skillfully.

She told me that she likes climbing chimneys at night. At night, the stars will come out and talk to her.

I'm a little surprised. I had no idea that she would say that. I asked her for the first time, silly, why does your father always beat your mother?

Her expression suddenly became serious, as if she had been thinking for a long time, and then she told me that my father always said that my mother's face was like the face of a dead person. Her father slaps her mother hard every time. If he is drunk, he will lift his leg and kick her mother's loneliness hard. And her mother is always huddled up and afraid to say anything. Every time her father hits her mother, he always says, shoot your face, shoot your face.

Silly, when you tell me all this, I really don't want a person with mental problems. She is so calm and calm.

That year, the winter in this town came earlier than before, and it was not until the beginning of 1 1 that the plane trees began to shed their leaves. The wide streets are covered with yellow leaves, just like dead and rotting butterflies. I also put on a thick coat. Silly, it's still the gray coat, but there are one or two worn-out vests inside. I asked her, silly, are you cold?

She still giggled and didn't speak.

Silly and I still often go to that abandoned chemical factory. He still likes to climb the chimney of the chemical plant alone at night and talk to the stars. I will still play music for her, and it will still be Schubert's serenade. She still tells me a lot about her family, but every time her father hits her mother.

5.

After the final exam, when I went home happily with my report card. A group of partners came around and said to me, that female fool fell dead in the chemical plant! Let's go and have a look! Someone fell dead!

I looked at them in panic, and then quickly ran in the direction of the chemical plant. I seem to hear an echo from a distance. Light is as heavy as my eardrum. That was a stupid call.

She called me.

Under the chimney, there is no stupidity, but there is a pool of frozen blood. An old man who lives next to a chemical factory came up to me and told me that she was taken away by her father. She fell while climbing the chimney and died. You children should be careful not to climb the chimney in the future. Those friends dispersed in a hubbub because they didn't see her die.

On the other hand, I just stood still. It's like standing still in front of my window. The blood on the ground is like a red rope on a fool's head, shaking in front of my eyes.

Death can take away life, but it cannot take away the evidence of the existence of the soul.

Until the end, I still didn't look silly. I only know that her father did not cremate her body, but found a place to bury her. I don't know where she is buried.

I had a dream that night. I dreamed of a train. I saw syl on the train. She still smirked and didn't talk like before. Suddenly, the whistle sounded and the train started slowly. So, I tried my best to catch the train. However, the train suddenly disappeared on the tracks, as if heading for another world. All the dirty fish and glitz in the world are isolated from it.

The day after Sil died, it snowed in this southern town.

I remember someone saying that snow is a greeting from people in the sky. But I feel that the sudden heavy snow is clearly silly tears.

This snow is a bit scary. In that small town, almost all other places except the river were covered by this huge snow. But people still can't restrain their surprise. It has not snowed in this southern town for many years. I heard the old man in the alley keep saying, why is it snowing so heavily? It's really unprecedented.

And when people look at this long-lost snow with joy, they may forget that just yesterday, the girl who lived on the cold boat has disappeared into this world. Or maybe they never want to remember that such a girl appeared in this world.

But I'll keep that in mind.

6.

After the heavy snow, the dilapidated barge and two northerners disappeared in this southern town without warning. Nobody knows where they went and nobody knows him.

Whether the child is still in this world.

Later, some people said that stupid dad was actually mentally ill. Others say that her mother killed her father and stabbed him more than ten times. What's more, it is said that her mother put her father's

The hand was cut off.

Maybe these things are true.

Perhaps, this is just people's boring speculation.

And when things have passed for a long time, no one will mention them again.

It's just been too long.

Someone told me that her name is not stupid, but Sasha.