As I recall

(Assignment: describe your home)

Last year grandma and grandpa wanted to build a new house. And they wanted to do it on the same ground. I was there when the workers came and tore the old house down. And suddenly it got so sentimental. Something hot was crumbling in my chest and wet my eyes. I didn't exactly grow up here, but the house did contain the most free days I had in my childhood, and protected me when storms came (I lived here during SARS).

Our house is a traditional Beijing quadrangle, but not exactly typical, because of the missing west wing-room. But that gave grandma more space for gardening, and we had fresh vegetables every season. She also grew a little apricot tree at the northwest corner, just in front on the west side room. Every summer, the tree will bear so many fruits that they fall down on the  ground. And I used to sit on the thick, cold quartzite stairs in front of the house, under that apricot tree, looking at the blue clear sky. Families would sit in the yard too, drinking green tea, chatting, enjoying grandma’s specialty dish. Grandpa would drink a little glass of white spirit. I know that’s when he is happy.

the apricot bears so many fruits

after the corn being harvested
we air them on the roof  

The main room is for the elders of the family – this is a tradition and etiquette – while the wing-rooms are for the younger generation. But grandma and grandpa dote on me so much, so I always lived in the main room as a child. The house was ages old, the wooden door case and threshold have turned black, glazed and smooth. Grandpa used to play under the same roof. And inside the room it is always a little dim, and a little cooler, even in the hottest days. The smell of old wood got thicker. As a child, I was addicted to it. There was a yellow, old-fashion wood desk. On both sides of the desk, there was a chair. The one on the left (in Chinese tradition, the seat of honor) was where grandpa sat. And that chair was so high and big, that I, as a child, thought sitting on it made me feel like a king. But every time I sneaked on the chair, mom always spotted me, and carried me down from there, and told me not to do that. Grandpa always smiled and said nothing. Behind the desk and the chairs, were two huge red wooden storage chests. They used to be taller than me. And the lid was heavy, I couldn’t open it. But I knew grandma hid a lot of precious mementos  in these chests. Every time she opened it, I tried to look inside. But it was so dark, I never saw a thing. On the lid sat two frames with old photos. And in the middle, was an antique red frame with a certificate of reward. But the words were too faded to recognize.

The wing room was smaller, and modern furnished, not as mysterious as the main room. But on the south side of the wall, there was a little ladder that goes to the roof. And on the roof was my secret spot. I liked to overlook our little yard, our neighbor’s yard down the hill, the river coming behind the mountain, and mountains behind the mountain.

on the roof
the mountains in white

It didn’t take long until the new house was built. Now the yard is more spacious, the main room has glass doors and windows so that give it more light inside. Furniture was changed, white walls, and a big TV screen on it. But the quartzite stairs are gone, the red chests are gone, the mysteries are gone, my childhood, has gone.

my childhood
has gone