The relationship between parents and child in China may be different than in most parts of the world. Our parents give us the gift of life, and look after us when we are too young to look after ourselves. In return, we look after them when they are old and sick. It is not unusual to find three generations living together in a single abode, especially in the countryside. You might say that our parents look upon their offspring as a kind of insurance policy. By ploughing money into an education for their children, the parents are, in effect, investing in their own future. With good grades from good schools their child can find a good job, and the wealthier they become, the more comfortable a lifestyle the parents can have when they reach retirement age.
This can be a huge burden. College and university campuses are rife with stories of students who buckle under the pressure. One bad exam score can lead a student to the roof of a tall building on campus, and from there their swift descent to death mirrors their family’s hopes. Most large educational establishments in China have to contend with several student suicides every semester. These unfortunate deaths are routinely covered-up so as not to bring the university any negative publicity. The victim’s family doesn’t mind the cover-up. In some cases they even condone and participate in it themselves, so as not to bring shame upon themselves for raising a failure. Face, and the perennial fear of losing it, is another vital component of Chinese culture.
Many times I have thought I would rather die than live a life without Wang Chen. At times I even contemplated suicide. But I cannot leave my parents. With no siblings to share the burden, they are counting on me to make their elder years bearable, if ‘comfortable’ is beyond me. Besides, I am not brave enough to take my own life. I wonder what those unfortunates must think the moment the flame of their life is snuffed out. Do they have any regrets? I suppose they must. We all suffer the crushing weight of regret. But most people find the strength to push the regret aside, rationalize it, and carry on.
Just carry on.
I remember the first time Wang Chen talked to me as if it were yesterday. I saw him striding toward me across the playing field during an after-school basketball match. I was convinced he would walk right past on his way to a prettier girl standing somewhere behind me. But he stopped and asked me for my phone number. The elation! I thought he was so strong, so brave to do that. Only much later did he tell me that he had first noticed me several months before and it took him that long to pluck up the courage to speak to me. He sent me an SMS that same evening…