At that time, the same station was also showing this movie, and I watched it again and again. This is worthy of being my second favorite movie, and it's really new. When I first watched it back then, it seemed that I was just excited to bury the old regime. Looking back on it later, I became more and more empathetic with Alex's complicated feelings about the GDR.
The tears were weird. Alex's West German brother-in-law said you East Germans like to blame others. Alex said, no, that's a rationalization proposal for social progress! Why can't I hold back at this point? In hindsight, could it be because of how much wronged I suffered in Hong Kong, as a mainland (East German) person?
At that time, I was still renting with you again. I tried to endure it for fear of being seen by her. After all, what I mainly showed in front of her was my rational and conceited side. But she still saw it. She said, are you crying? I said no.
Another strange girl. Sometimes I hate her, and sometimes I love her. Well she's not weird at all, actually, she's very simple. So I'm not going to explain to her at all why I'm crying, at such an inexplicable point, because I simply can't believe she understands this - Alex's feelings for his country, or rather, my feelings for mine feelings of the country.
A while ago, I helped a British teacher translate her abstract of the thesis, and she invited me to dinner. During the dinner, she asked me, what was your childhood like and why do you care about human rights issues? I said that I was educated in orthodox communism since I was a child, and I admired the real working class like my grandfather, the real communist, since I was a child. In fact, I was a communist until I was 20 years old. I don't know if she understands the relationship - it's a transformation, but it's a continuation. I mean, true communists are supposed to be full of sympathy for human suffering, as I can feel in Marx's writing, they should know that "the liberty of each is the liberty of all. Conditions” (The Communist Manifesto). Although I became more and more intelligent and rational, and changed to the right, I will never get rid of the leftist nature in my heart. The result is that I'm always caught between the two sides, and even more so by my own contradictions, like Alex's schizophrenia - he's missing a country he's buried with his own hands.
I am envious and envious sometimes. This post-90s generation came to Hong Kong to study after the college entrance examination, and spent the most important years of growing up in Hong Kong, away from the hardships of the motherland. It's not that she doesn't care about this society, she's also enthusiastic about the feminist movement, so enthusiastic that I'm a little annoying. However, she is different from me in that she does not have the historical burden on me - like so many Hong Kong youths around me who have no motherland, these heavy things seem to be far away from her. I can't.
I was thinking, what is this baggage? "The working class has no homeland" (note above), I know that a true communist should not be a nationalist, and a true individualist should not be a nationalist. But I have to admit that sometimes, I am really a nationalist. In the international football world, I can only support the Chinese team. This is the second thing. I mean, I have the consciousness of "compatriots". Although I can basically sympathize with the suffering of "everyone" and "everyone", I have no Doubt, the suffering of my fellow men will make me far more miserable, just as the actions of my country will make me far more ashamed.
In Hong Kong, whenever there are gatherings related to the mainland, I will speak Mandarin uncharacteristically loudly. I just want them to know that we are here for our own business. When I am in Hong Kong or abroad, I am concerned about the injustice and the suffering of the local people, I know that I am supporting them; and in my country, I will eventually think that this is what I am unfortunate to be born Chinese. That part of the duty, or rather, the part of suffering that he deserves. And this distinction between "them" and "us", this self-consciousness of "my country", even if some Hong Kong friends have considered it to be a foreigner, even if it makes me neither a pure individualist nor a pure The communist, but I can't get over it, the unfortunate cut off the constant emotional bond.
Not exactly suffering, but all the good things about my childhood. I grew up listening to the red songs of the Soviet Union, the folk songs of Eastern Europe, and watching the little moles in the Czech Republic. How can I share these beautiful things with my friends in Hong Kong? Fortunately, I have classmates from Poland, Russia, Albania and Macedonia in my office. I can try to chat with them about the liquor provided by the ticket, about "Waves of the Danube" and "My Beloved", and talk about childhood memories. Radha and Polonaise (do not know what this is my own search), these things that only the children of our (former) communist country can understand. Well, there's no need to romanticize these things, I know the ticket supply sucks, I know the big state companies suck, I know the control over the arts sucks, and of course I know the gulag, the sta West and the Cultural Revolution. But when I recall my childhood, I really can't avoid those state-run barbershops, state-run photo studios, and of course red scarves that can't even find the ruins. Bad memories grow together with good memories, and I can only miss the curse once. But there is no way to separate them, or throw them away together.
Alex took to the streets, was arrested, and shoveled a shovel of dirt to bury the regime himself. Then, with his own hands, he made the country continue in his own home. In fact, whether it is to love it or hate it, criticize it or even try to subvert it and end it, what is doomed is that this country - what I have always said is "the People's Republic of China" and not just China — have become a part of my life, in the past, present and foreseeable future. It has branded me for better or worse, and there is no way my life can run without it. On the other hand, whether my Hong Kong friends can understand it or not, I can only tell them: this country was built and endured by my compatriots who you may not despise. Indecent farewell.
First published on http://ycool.com/post/u78963q , please indicate the source for reprinting, and keep the work intact (including this sentence).
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