Several articles by Chen Chen.

Eve:

It has been more than a year since August 2006. However, I still remember you.

Remember the K402 train from Hangzhou to Nanning? Car 12. It was in that narrow carriage that I met you, and then 32 hours later, we broke up. We haven't seen each other since then.

This is my first long-distance trip. /kloc-When he was 0/7 years old, he traveled all over Guangxi and northern Vietnam with his bag on his back. To this day, I still remember that memory clearly. I always remember where I have been. Yangshuo. Nanning. Beihai. Weizhou Island. Hanoi. Wait a minute.

Eve, I like Weizhou Island.

Because of the typhoon, I waited in Beihai for three days before I got a ticket to Weizhou Island. In Weizhou Island, I stayed in a hostel run by fishermen. The price is surprisingly cheap, but the room is clean. Every night, I will wait for the return of fishing boats on the dock with the residents of the island.

I go to the Catholic church in Weizhou Island every day. Islanders like to worship in the morning. The church was built by French missionaries from 65438 to 2009 in the 1960s. This is a beautiful Gothic building. More than a hundred years later, it is still tall and solemn.

I also like to go out alone at night. See the island at night. Will ask the proprietress to borrow a flashlight, and then walk alone on the beach. All I can hear is the sound of the waves. I will sit alone on the reef, watching the light from the lighthouse and the fuzzy fishing boats in the distance. Sometimes when I come back and see the proprietress watching TV downstairs, I will take a bench to watch it with her. Cable TV has only one channel, Guangxi TV Station. In the early evening, Japanese love movies were being shown.

Eve, I don't know if you went to Yangshuo.

I like it there. I like West Street. I like bars and ghosts in West Street. Some of those ghosts go together, and some leave their rich countries alone with thick travel notes, from one country to another.

In SOLO, I met a thin English girl. She used her holiday to travel. I have been to six countries in Southeast Asia and just left Vietnam for Yangshuo the day before yesterday. She said that she would go to the north, Tibet, and then Nepal.

Those days in Yangshuo. Sleep in a hotel during the day. Come out at night. You know, the night on West Street will never end. It didn't really become a ghost's paradise until midnight. Disco dances often start at midnight in those bars. Ghosts get together and dance on the central dance floor.

There are still red lanterns hanging in the street, rows and rows, emitting warm colors. Several Canadians set the table in the open air and drank beer together. Often have to wait until it turns white before leaving the bar and going back to the hotel. Sometimes, I can't sleep. I smoked vietnam smoke in the corridor with the Japanese boy who lives next door.

Do you remember our meeting?

At that time, I saw you also carrying a mountaineering bag of sunlight. We share a berth. I'm a middle shop. You are the upper berth. After the train started, you poked your head out of the upper berth and asked me with a smile, are you going to study in Nanning? This is the first thing you said to me.

No. I said. This is a trip.

I didn't know you were from Hangzhou until I chatted with you later. Studying in a university in Beijing. 1 year later, I will study in France. I travel alone, too. The destination is also Guangxi.

The sleeper of the train is clean. The air conditioner is full. Most of the time, I just wrapped my body in a quilt and was half asleep in a narrow space. Listen to music occasionally. Record some words in the notebook. Or, read a novel by dim light. When you are hungry, you will grope for beef jerky from your backpack to eat. When the train stops, I will also open my eyes. Open the curtains and look at the dim and warm lights in the station.

I also exchange mobile phones to play games when I am bored. I saw the photos in your mobile phone. Most of them are photos of a boy named Yoko. Is it a boy you like? It must be.

Otherwise, how can you take pictures of him while he is eating noodles?

Why else would you use your photos as the background?

Otherwise, how could you leave a message under a photo, Yoko? Although we are separated, I still can't forget you.

Eve, maybe we all travel with memories. I also hope that those memories that I want to forget will be lost bit by bit on the way.

Eve, remember, in the late-night train, we walked from the first carriage to the last carriage.

Most of them are hard-seat cars. The floor of the hard-seat carriage is dirty and slippery, and melon seeds, plastic bottles and newspapers are scattered all over the floor. There is always a sour smell in the carriage. Hard-seat cars don't turn off the lights at night, and white energy-saving lamps are on all night. The lights are too bright and dazzling, and many people are too tired to sleep.

Most of them are people who work in cities to make a living. They wear colorful clothes and carry big bags of luggage. They form a small group in twos and threes. They all like to chat in the middle of the night. We sat with them and listened to them talk about what happened in their hometown and their experiences of making a living in the city.

You always wake me up when the train comes into the station. Say to me, let's go to the station for a walk. I always answer you softly in a trance, then climb down from the sleeper and grope for canvas shoes on the floor in the dark.

Late at night, the train pulled into a shabby station in the south. I jumped off the train with you. The air in the station is hot and stuffy. Only a few people started getting on the train. The canteen is also closed. The flight attendants dozed off on the platform with flashlights.

I saw you running at the station, running straight along the tracks.

I'm a senior three now. Cut your hair into the most common flat head. Go out early and come back late in school uniform every day. There is no extra time to travel alone. After the final exam of senior two, the school began to have classes. In the sultry classroom, like many children, I struggled to do exercises and let my grades climb up bit by bit.

However, my drawer is still full of shredded travel books. After the last class, when the whole class went to eat, I took it out and turned it page by page. I feel inexplicably sad in my heart.

Eve, I don't think you are a particularly beautiful girl. I don't know if you will be angry when you hear this.

But you are different from many girls. The beautiful girls in our school go to the high-end hair salon to have their hair done every week. I like to use Japanese brand cosmetics. When you are in the sun, you will scream. And you, your hair is usually loose or tied up with ordinary rubber bands. Wear cheap canvas shoes. Carry a big bag one head taller than you.

This is probably true. The truth worth remembering.

But, Eve, we can't help forgetting many things. Like now, I can't seem to remember what you look like. However, I always remember the sentence you once said to me.

Later, the teacher was disappointed in me and said that I was a hopeless child. Parents looked at their report cards, eclipsed. I will think of you when I write late at night and suddenly find that I can't hold on. Think about what you said.

Even with such a plain sentence, I found a reason to stick to it.

Thank you, Eve.

I'm going to write to you, because I happened to see your name in the phone book not long ago. Can call in the past, that number no longer exists. Maybe as you said before, you have been studying in France. Although, I know, this letter can't reach you, I still stubbornly wrote it. Just like I used to travel stubbornly. Stubbornly let yourself stop thinking about you.

I wonder if you have forgotten the boy who passed by on your trip. I used to cook noodles with you on the train. We spent 32 hours together in a small space. I told you he was going to Beijing Film Academy. Write the best script in the world.

Eve, do you remember me?

I just miss it so much. I miss you running at the station. I miss our endless discussion about travel. I even miss our parting in the small station called Litang late at night. Go your own way.

No farewell. Only the smile when you leave. Bloom in the dim light of the station and the smell of strangers at night.

Chen Chen June 2007 5438+065438+ 10.

The noise is hoarse.

After that, I will run for love and hate all my life.

I want to tell him and her, look, it's starting to rain.

1.

I'm going to Beijing in February this year.

I bought the train ticket this afternoon 12. Father drove me to the railway station. Along the way, we all kept silent and said nothing. I plugged in my headphones, turned my head and watched the dim light crawl under the viaduct.

Think of the quarrel with them the other day. Think of my mother said to me, go to Beijing! You just want to play! You just can't stop! Suddenly I don't want to explain anything, just pretend to pack my bags carelessly. But the depressing atmosphere seems to be suffocating. The air seems to have been sucked dry, and it is suffocating.

In fact, I know they are just worried and suspicious of me. No malice.

However, they probably don't know how sad I am. Even paralyzed.

Arriving at the railway station, my father walked silently in front. I followed him with a big bag on my back. I saw him suddenly turn around and look at me. I was carrying a heavy bag on my back, and I walked a little wobbly, as if to say something, but I didn't say anything.

Because of the heavy snow, a large number of migrant workers who return to the city or go home for the New Year are stranded at the railway station. The chaotic atmosphere full of this sense of danger makes people feel inexplicably nervous. My father told me in a serious tone never to talk to strangers. If someone gives you food, it is absolutely unacceptable. If they bother you, go ahead and don't look back.

Enter the waiting room with a ticket. Father was stopped outside the waiting room. I said to him, you go. He paused and looked a little hesitant. But still whisper to me, then I'll go first.

But after a long time, when I inadvertently looked out of the waiting room, I saw my father standing there all the time. Keep looking inside.

2.

Beijing is an open and indifferent city. After 7 pm, the shops began to close one after another. Unlike many big cities, it is a sleeping city.

Such a city that closes its eyes at midnight. Walking inside, there is always a sense of distance between people and between people and cities. It seems that it is really impossible to get close to this city. But this inaccessibility makes you feel quiet and safe. I don't know why, but I like that sense of alienation.

It's just that the wind in those days was really strong enough to make people have some headaches.

Stay in the International Youth Hostel near the Lama Temple. 12 room. A room full of ghosts carrying big bags. Some look very cold, some are very enthusiastic, and will take the initiative to come and chat with me. They walked on like duckweeds. Unstable. Whenever they say "Byebye" to me with dozens of kilograms of travel bags on their backs, they always feel a little lost in their hearts.

Get up at 5 am. Then take the subway line 5. Then take bus 367 to Beijing Film Academy. There are few people in the subway station in the morning. Cold wind often blows from the depths of the railway to dry hair. I chewed dry bread wrapped in a scarf and swallowed boiled water with difficulty.

I often wander around Beiying after exams. I happened to walk into Beijing Film Studio that day. There are tall poplars in it. Reaching into the northern sky. See a studio that looks like big warehouse. There are many jeeps parked outside, and there are crews shooting inside. I saw a large group of staff sitting around the light shield and the machine eating lunch boxes.

In fact, I have long had the idea of running with the crew, even if it is a walk-on.

Hehe, I wonder if you will laugh at me.

The most terrible thing is actually looking at the second interview list. Thousands of people crowded in front of a wall, waiting for the list to be published. I was squeezed in the crowd. I heard a girl in the back say, how cruel. Looking at the list posted bit by bit, if you don't get in, it means that your hopes are shattered bit by bit. Someone laughed at her. But I feel that at this time, everyone is afraid.

The staff posted the list bit by bit. The crowd behind me began to surge forward. I stood on tiptoe and groped along the admission ticket number.

When I saw the result, I clutched my pants tightly. I saw my admission ticket number.

3.

In youth travel, I met many children who came to Beijing to take an art test like me. There is no time to start. Just play with them in Beijing.

That day, we went to the 798 Art Factory outside the Fourth Ring Road. Before 798, it was a large factory built by the Soviet Union and Zhu Min countries when they helped China. It was abandoned later. Because those abandoned factories and warehouses are gradually used by artists. We saw many art exhibitions and video art exhibitions in 798. I have met many artists who are sincere and kind, but concentrate on creating distinctive personalities. And colorful graffiti all over the wall.

We all like it there. So a child said, let's rent a house in 798 in the future. Then open a studio, make magazines or design together to make money. And then we really broke up. Do art design. So-and-so writes manuscripts. The same is true of planning.

Before you know it, it will be dark. The broad sunset in the north gradually covered his face.

Hey. We don't know about childhood.

With the test results, many children went home with mixed feelings because they didn't enter two exams. In the end, it was just me and Shuishui until the last three attempts. The water is from Guangdong. She came to Beijing alone to start China Communication University. She spends five yuan on the Internet every day. Just to watch the weather forecast. She has never seen snow.

Most of the time, I was with her. We sat together on the stone bench in the center of Xidan Square, watching the gray crowd retreating like a flood around us. We went to Nanluoguxiang and bought many handmade books. We stood in the middle of Wudaokou Road and watched the Stone Forest rise around us. We silently took the subway from Dongzhimen to Xizhimen.

Such friendship is plain but profound.

The pub on the first floor of the hotel does not close at night. Shuishui and I often review all night on the red sofa and chat occasionally. Ghosts are whispering. I fell asleep before I knew it.

I don't know why, that night, we talked about death.

She said she was a freshman that year. The final exam is coming, and my mother suddenly calls. Said something happened to dad. Tell her to go to the hospital at once. But when I arrived at the hospital, my father had died.

It was her father's bus that overturned on the expressway. There are seven people in the car, only her father is missing.

Why? She said. Why is this unfair?

It suddenly occurred to me that I received a phone call from my father in the middle of the night. He told me that your mother couldn't sleep well these days. I was so worried about you. Let me give you the money in the card again. I told you not to keep it. Also, take all the clothes home to wash.

4.

That day, Shuishui told me excitedly that it would snow tomorrow afternoon. So that afternoon, I went to Houhai with her.

We sat on the cold stone bench by Houhai Lake wrapped in scarves and looked at Houhai, which was covered with a thick layer of ice. Someone is skating on the lake. People walk on the ice in twos and threes. I narrowed my eyes and looked up to see the vast sky in the north. The bright sunshine stung my eyes slightly.

I pushed away Shuishui's hand and said to her, Let's go.

She was silent. Then I saw her cross the railing and walk to the center of Houhai.

That day, she stood in the middle of the lake. My legs are cold and I keep stamping my feet. I wrapped a scarf around half my face to keep out the dry and cold wind in the north.

She suddenly said that that year, she touched her father's body. His body is cold. It's too difficult.

Life never seemed to exist. But she was reluctant.

5.

In the dim sunset, the city became a ship. Leave the mottled sea.

The hoarse voice quietly sank to the bottom of the lake.

6.

On the day he left Beijing, Heshui went to Houhai for the last time.

Along the way, she said nothing. I asked her if she was unhappy. She said, you are leaving tonight. I am really alone. I patted her on the shoulder with a smile, but my heart was inexplicably sad.

Let's go shopping, let's go shopping in tobacco bag diagonal street. I bought many shabby but cheap English CDs. There are also postcards of Hutong culture. When passing by a small Tibetan decoration shop, Shuishui insisted on going in.

All kinds of Tibetan ornaments are sold in shops. Warm and kind Tibetan girls came to say "Tashi Dele" and then introduced various Tibetan ornaments.

Shuishui is interested in a wish box. A small box made of Tibetan silver can be hung around your neck. However, there is a clever mechanism to open the box and put the scriptures in it. The Tibetan girl said, you can write your wishes on that piece of scripture paper. Get up the next morning, as long as you pray silently, your wish will come true.

Shuishui asked me if I wanted to buy one. I shook my head at her.

The Tibetan girl took her to the idol and prayed for her silently. She said, girl, God will touch your wish.

When I left, I asked Shuishui with a smile. Did you write in the scroll that you will be admitted to China Communication University?

She paused and whispered, yes.

We went to Beihai Park again. The ice on Beihai Lake began to melt, which was like the coldest day in Beijing. I shivered at the sight of the water. I put on a scarf and wrapped her naked neck tightly in the cold wind.

Did not visit the temples and buildings in the park. Just walk along the North Sea. As we approached the south exit, Shuishui suddenly said, Chen, can I take a picture of you? So I stopped.

That was the only photo of me in Beijing that winter. In the background, Beihai Park has melted half the lake. And the white tower. My face is a little red with cold. I half squinted my dry eyes, for fear that tears would fall defenseless.

At night, the water will take me to the railway station. Walk to the subway, I waved and said to her, you'd better go home. It's too cold outside. She was a little embarrassed, but she whispered, okay. You go in quickly.

There are few people in the subway station. I am carrying a heavy travelling bag and waiting for the coming train. My shoulder hurts. It suddenly occurred to me that in many late nights, I wanted to call them and tell them all the grievances, surprises and confusions along the way. You can pick up the phone, but you don't have the courage to press the button.

But I really have feelings for Beijing and the people I met in Beijing. I was sad and disappointed to leave.

But I know where I'm going. Just like I know why I want to go to Beijing to meet them. I don't know how many people will remember that after experiencing fatigue and boring growth, they are so persistent in getting close to their dreams. Fortunately, I have been insisting and chose a life without regrets.

7.

The end of March. There are still more than 70 days before the college entrance examination, and cherry blossoms are in full bloom in the school. Like a grand and unbeaten performance. The snow that hasn't snowed in Beijing has finally fallen.

I stood under the cherry tree and opened the package that Shuishui sent me.

When the first floor was opened, I was surprised to find a prayer box made of Tibetan silver bought by Shuishui in a Tibetan jewelry store. I groped here and turned on the small switch. Opened the scripture paper.

I'm surprised. Behind the strange Tibetan language is immature handwriting.

I hope the boy who went to Houhai with me will be happy forever.

There are petals falling slowly with the warm wind in March. Silently fell on the scripture paper.

I touched my pants without pockets and didn't know where to put my hands.

Sound noise

Every road, I go by myself.

1.

Stay in a small hotel in Hanoi.

There is a small market not far from the hotel. Before the sun appeared, it began to make a sound in the humid and sultry air. All kinds of stalls and shops are lined up in turn. Like a maze. Only those who ride motorcycles can walk through it quickly and calmly. While wiping their sweat, the ghosts bargained with the vendors selling pitaya.

I go back to the market every night. Dragging flip-flops and wearing headphones Usually buy those cheap tropical fruits, vietnam smoke. I will also pay attention to the pirated LP of one dollar.

Sometimes it's boring. Alone in a small hotel room. It was very hot, sweating all the time, and no one spoke. Watching TV, most of them are English programs, and some of them have no letters. Usually go downstairs and talk to those strange ghosts. The proprietress of the hotel is very enthusiastic and her English is good. When I left, she was able to talk to me in simple Chinese. This is largely due to me.

Sleep for a short time every day. I can't go back to sleep because it's around 4 am Hanoi time.

Loudspeakers on both sides of the street began to broadcast the news. Euphemistic Vietnamese is often mistaken for Cantonese. Or, play Vietnamese songs. Vietnamese songs are extreme. Some are extremely euphemistic, while others are impassioned. Maybe it's a song about the Vietnam War.

The sound of motorcycles came like waves. This sound will last all day. Occasionally, you can see Honda cars suddenly crossing the street. The engine sound of a car is not so overbearing as the sudden sound of a motorcycle. Therefore, in the streets of Vietnam, you can usually see cars giving way to motorcycles.

During my stay in Hanoi, I have been looking for the voice that belongs to Hanoi. Or, it's the sound of summer. What is the chaotic noise? Or the sound of leaves evaporating in a quiet alley in the afternoon.

It seems that every sound belongs to Hanoi They are all so pure. There are no magazines. It's all true.

2.

In February this year, when I was in Shanghai, Shanghai was suffering from the once-in-a-century heavy snow.

The news of heavy snow began to spread on the bus. The number of DC passengers in the railway station continues to rise. Snow sweepers shuttled back and forth on the already crowded streets.

I live in the Old Captain Youth Hostel on Fuzhou Road. Open the window and you can see the blurred stone forest on the other side of Huangpu River.

At night, ghosts began to return to their rooms one by one. Usually don't sleep, get together to discuss the bad weather in Shanghai and the next trip. It was not until nearly two o'clock in the morning that they went back to their beds to sleep.

I can sleep in a bed with a small window. In the middle of the night, the heating in the room was fully turned on, so I opened the small window to get some air.

Wrapped in a quilt, looking out the window. It's still snowing heavily outside. The lights are scarce. Occasionally, pedestrians will rush by wrapped in scarves. The shadows of passers-by are faintly visible in Zita Law. It turns out that such dark snow shadows and strange silence can also feel morality in Shanghai. That kind of quiet, just like a small town in northern Europe.

If the word "loneliness" is melodramatic. Then, a person traveling in a foreign land is bound to be lonely and helpless. I suddenly have a stomachache late at night. I groped for clothes in the dark and didn't turn on the light for fear of waking the sleeping ghost. Then wrap a scarf. Take the key and walk out the door to the convenience store to buy pills.

The sound of sneakers stepping on the snow. The sound of "Ding Dong" when the convenience store enters the door. The vague whistle on the other side of Huangpu River. Your slight breathing. This clock strikes three in the morning.

Those voices gradually merged into the bustling, quiet and noisy snowy night in Shanghai. There is no reply.

3.

Have you ever done such an experiment? Put a disposable paper cup on your ear and you can hear the sound of the sea.

In Weizhou Island, fishermen living by the sea run family hotels. Open the window and you can see the silver sand sculpture downstairs. The sun is too strong during the day and usually nothing is done. Watching TV in the hotel, or, lying in bed and reading Agatha's mystery novels, who has been with me. I only go out occasionally and go to the small market downstairs to buy a big bottle of mineral water, cheap bananas and ice cream that I haven't eaten for 50 cents. In this way, the day passed in a trance.

Usually at night, I go out with my camera and keys. Go to the dock to buy fresh and cheap seafood. Then take it to the hotel owner and let her burn it herself. Only five processing fees are charged.

Then go to the seaside to blow. There are few people on the beach. Only one day, a large group of college students came to Guangzhou. Brought fireworks to the seaside to set off. A faint spark rises into the sky and blooms into flowers swaying in the wind.

I saw them running screaming. Those sounds make this quiet island noisy.

There are churches on the island. The Catholic Church is in Tangsheng Village on the island. It took more than twenty minutes for the motorcycle to arrive. There are banana forests all the way. Many people on the island grow bananas for a living. There are also natural giant cacti. A big chunk, a big chunk. They all inhabit paths paved with coral stones.

This church is very big. Very dignified. A dull color. The spire The coachman said that this is a church built by French missionaries. The materials are coral stones and soil on the island. But hundreds of years have passed, and there are countless rainstorms and typhoons. Still not falling. This is probably a blessing from God.

There is a statue of the Virgin Mary in front of the church and a long wooden chair behind it. When I walked into the church, I saw the stained glass around me. Smell the moisture in the church.

There is also a church of Notre Dame in Chengzai Village, not far from the Catholic Church. The scale is not small. However, few people are involved. Weeds are everywhere. No one looks after it and cleans it. It was abandoned many years ago. Tourists won't go there. The driver told me that when people on the island died, they would put their bodies in Notre Dame. After a night, and then buried in the ground.

Notre Dame is the place where the islanders will go sooner or later.

Tell me, is there such magic? You can fold up these sounds and seal them up.

-The sound of waves floating on the beach at night. The sound of the sea breeze blowing into the bushes. The sound of sneakers stepping on a path covered with broken corals. A man photographed the click of the sunset with his camera. The friction of sitting on the shabby wooden bench in the church. The sound of ships sailing at night on the sea illuminated by the lighthouse.

Those immortal voices. It belongs to Weizhou Island. It belongs to what must be remembered.

4.

and

The sound of stones rolling into the valley in Jingxi Canyon. Church bells in nameless towns in Vietnam. Ghosts have different English pronunciations Different city subway stations have different station names.

Every sound is a small mark. They make the memory clear.

And the journey is just a process of chasing sound.

I hope the landlord will give points ~ ~