My Field Trip

Shy but restless, I participated a number of extracurricular activities offered through school. Like all the kids across the world I liked field trips and thought they were the best part of school life. Their frequency was similar to U.S. students, usually one in the fall and one in spring. I looked forward to those fun times. Our destinations were museums, zoos and country-excursions, occasionally, a show. My most memorable one was a live performance of Swan Lake, performed by the renowned Russia ballet, organized just for our dance group.

One time, we took a field trip to see the Shanghai Sino-Soviet Friendship Building, which the Soviet Union helped to build in the 1950s. It was the first time I had seen Russian neoclassical architecture.

He cracked two eggs, chopped a green onion, and mixed in some flour and water. Then he poured the batter into a heated pan greased with peanut oil. He swirled the pan on the stove to spread the batter evenly. After a minute or so, he deftly flipped the pan upwards. The pancake flew into the air, turned over, and settled perfectly back into the middle of the pan.

Soon, the golden pancake was done. The color, shape, and aroma came together. I wanted to eat it right then, but I had to save it for later. With shortages of almost everything, a two-egg pancake was a real treat, made even more special because Father created and cooked it. I was amazed he had such skill.

It was great run free in the countryside for city kids, but the best part was my lunch. I could hardly wait when the teacher finally let us eat. My pancake was still warm, and I savored every bite. It was tasty but my father’s present made day and night difference in my life.

Red Jacket

Since the early days of the People’s Republic, the Communist Party had trained people to put on showcases for occasions. With October 1, the National Day, approaching, preparations for the celebration were in full swing at school. We wanted to praise the Big Brother, a major part of the important

Li took the coats. “Soft fur and fine wool, nice materials indeed.” He measured the coats inside and out, up and down. Then he turned to me. “Let’s see if you can be a pretty princess.”

He took my measurements and made a sketch on a piece of paper. Then he turned to her. “I think I can do it, but it would be a lot of work.”

Mother winked at me, and her face lit up, with a big smile, as if she said, “I told you so!”

On the following Sunday, we picked up the jacket. After I tried it on, Mr. Li smiled and Mother cracked a big grin, as if they were admiring something special.

Mr. Li sat me in front of a narrow mirror. I looked at the image of myself. Is this real? I beheld the most beautiful jacket I had ever worn, bright red with a round white collar and white trim. Oh, my, my! It astonished me that anybody could transform those old coats into such a beautiful new jacket, made of many small pieces patched together. Fine stitched seams ran along the sides and under the sleeves, but you had to look closely to detect them. Mr. Li retained the short sleeves from the original coat, but added four inches of white fur trim to extend them. The jacket looked like it had been designed that way from the beginning. On the way back home, I told Mom, “It’s like