Student Translation Project
HKBU 2017
Days in the Water City
Chan Hay Ching
Aunt Quan turned off the stove. The Mandarin rolls were steaming hot, but the Korean guests were still not bothered. She lifted the cover again and pored over the five kimchi: daylilies, kelp, green beans, hot pickled mustard and of course Chinese cabbage. She sprinkled a handful of sesame seeds after stirring the content in the pot with chopsticks. It was so pleasing to the eye with all the red, yellow, black and white mixed together in the pot. The rice was also cooked. It was not an easy task to get the northeast rice though. She had to carry a big pack of rice on the ferry and transferring buses several times, but it was almost gone just a few days later. It is such a difficult job to fill humans’ stomachs up. Oh, there was also a pot of chicken wings and drumsticks. Koreans usually have rice and meat for breakfast, and they can always finish it. But she could not let the Chinese guests notice this. They usually have congee, sausages, salted vegetables, eggs, millet porridge which was fine. But the Chinese would feel cheated if they see the meat. They would say Aunt Quan was being biased. Apparently, that is just human nature. Humans just have one heart on one side, they just see their own side of the story, isn’t it? After they ate up and wiped their mouths, they ungratefully commented how overcooked the vegetables and salty the eggs were. Aunt Quan chuckled grudgingly, then left whispering to her son. Her son stared at the computer and did not bother to move.
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It was ten already, Aunt Quan pricked up her ear and looked towards the room door, but it was still silent. She grumbled, “these Koreans!” Stepping forward, she sat in front of the kitchen window, took out the pressed powder from her make-up bag, twisted her mouth to firm the muscles and dabbed the powder on her face. Fair and
tender, she still looked younger than 40. Aunt Quan frowned at the mirror and laughed with her ivory teeth. She smeared the lipstick around her lips and then imprinted a kiss on a tissue. Such a sunny day. She was already covered with sweat, and haven’t even been outdoors. Aunt Quan rolled her eyes, drawing the inner eye line by dragging her inner rim. There were teardrops at first, but now she did not even need a mirror. She glanced at the two plants dying on the balcony. She was shocked as they used to bloom only a year ago!
She got a phone call from Florence telling her there was a strike again. The guests were stranded at the train station. What a delusional country! How could there be two strikes every three days? There were many people hoping for this position in the past. The arriving time of that old couple became unknown because of the strike. She was just hoping that it wouldn’t be late at night again. Her son hasn’t slept for a night already. Those Koreans were still asleep. Were they travelling to sleep? There were two guests from Guangzhou coming later, and a girl… Who may be wearing a hat? Aunt Quan’s heart jolted and she was eager to know where that fool of her husband was wandering. She was not sure that all ingredients were well-prepared at that time, too. There wasn't a soul in sight. The busier you were, the idler he was. It was just like he was not a member of this family. However, he was the person who opposed the idea of recruiting a staff most fiercely… Aunt Quan’s mind was thinking of sixes and sevens in her mind while she was packing her bag. Time was running out. She stood up and tidied up her sleeveless black dress with a pattern of white flowers, a gift from that bastard a few years ago when their restaurant opened for business. It was the first time the bustard bought a gift for Aunt Quan. The dress was a fit and it made her look slimmer when she was standing with arms akimbo. The lower hem of the dress was fluttering and she felt as if she was a girl again. Her steps became more relaxed when she remembered this. She took a trolley and went out. She came back after walking down two stairs and got into the toilet. Flicking her hair, standing sideways, she gently touched her chest along a row of buttons. Aunt Quan glanced at the mirror and she could see a beauty with firm and pointed bosom in front of her. She turned away quickly and her cheeks burned. Streams of foreigners bustled downstairs and they were all exposing their bosom. The streets and lanes were glutted with an ocean of flesh. She couldn’t get used to it even after a decade. After Aunt Quan stealthily descended from the guest room, she walked sideways through the door. The room was a bit dark and the floor was messy with her clothing. Aunt Quan put her bag away and took the underwear back to the toilet. After putting on the underwear, she buckled the top button. When things were all done, she went downstairs with the sound of trit-trot, trit-trot…
Aunt Quan thought that it was prestigious to use a monthly pass so she got on the ship confidently. However, many Chinese teased her about her stupidity. They thought no one would check the ticket anyway, so why to spend money on a pointless purchase. At this point, Aunt Quan admired the foreigners quite a lot for their unconsciousness. In fact, she did not care about the money. And a monthly pass could be used by a family of three which was cost-effective. Sometimes, Aunt Quan loved opening her purse and taking out the monthly pass to play with it. A tiny paper ticket could make Aunt Quan feel different from the others, mainly the other Chinese. By other Chinese, she meant the people who worked secretly and were always afraid of the police. ​
After walking down the stairs, she saw the Rialto harbor opposite to the hostel. Aunt Quan was proud of the location. It was in the center of the water city. Only Rialto
Bridge and Piazza San Marco had their own road sign in this maze-like water city. If there were tourists who’ve never heard about Rialto Bridge, Aunt Quan could only despise them. Weren’t half of the tourists coming to Venice just to visit this bridge? By the way, even though Aunt Quan looked at it every day, she couldn’t find anything special about it. Aunt Quan merely thought it was convenient because her customers would find it easily. It really helped her a lot. Besides, the rent for this central location was incredibly high. Although no one would ask about it, people marveled at it. It made her proud. To be honest, Chinese people only live for their own fame. It was no doubt that people who lived in the world were all like kick up a fuss for no reason. Let’s look at that Bridge of Sighs. People say “if a couple kissed under the bridge, their love will last forever” might be the stupid story that was fabricated by those gondola’s boatmen. It was also terrible enough that if their love really could last forever. The tourists crowded onto the deck for the sake of taking photo and Aunt Quan leaned back in her chair. A sense of superiority came into her heart at that very moment, as if she was the creator of the whole spectacular scenery.
Aunt Quan’s family had experienced this hiding life for a few years. Even though she was operating a hostel, she was still violating the law. A business license would be so costly. Furthermore, a triple room could fit a dozen or so people at peak season. With a license, the room could only have a maximum of three beds. Who would compensate for the loss? The policemen were at her door and gave her an ultimatum last month, demanding them to move out.
However, Aunt Quan was not scared. It was different now. First, she was already an old fox who knew all of the tricks of the trade and deals inside the Chinese society. Second, she was a landlady. No matter how illegal it was, she was her own boss and the money she earned gave her power.
Pulling a cart of veg and meat and traveling back and forth through the crowds, Aunt Quan was feeling exceptionally down-to-earth. The heavy cart was the LV for her. Aunt Quan knew all the high-end brands from the tourists. Where to buy Armani, LV; where to eat squid pasta; how much is a fur coat; where to get a cup of coffee or a piece of tiramisu, she remembered all. But she was not going there, those places were for tourists, she was not one of them. She was only concerned about where to get the cheapest chicken, where to buy luffah, water spinach, and tofu. The Chinese travelers were not fond of bread and cheese, instead, a bowl of millet porridge and a dish of water spinach would do. All these were making Aunt Quan happy.
The last time that the whole family went out together was a few years ago. Her son was obedient but just not interested in studying. At the beginning, he could not go to school because he had no documents but later it flew under the radar. Still, he would not go out to play. Aunt Quan wished he could go out to meet new friends and learn Italian but her son would not hear about it. He would yell at Aunt Quan when he was annoyed. He could sit in front of the computer all day and play games. He would smoke and drink alcohol with his compatriots when they came. Although he had these habits, he never made any trouble. He just ate when he was hungry; slept when he was sleepy. When there were too many guests, he would free up his bed. He was also assigned to pick up guests from the train station several times a day but would never complain or express unwillingness. Aunt Quan had asked him to take the ship. He would just take the monthly pass, throw it on the computer desk and go downstairs directly. Aunt Quan didn’t know how to show her heartache towards him. She could only praise her son intentionally when the guests came to chat. “Our child is well-behaved and obedient,” she said loudly. However, her son just remained silent and his silence made Aunt Quan worried.
As for her husband, Aunt Quan thought the bastard should be kept at bay in order to have peace. Two days ago, Aunt Quan took him to an all-you-can-eat seafood buffet for 10 euros. At first, her husband was not willing to go, though later he went indecisively. Aunt Quan knew that he loved eating squid and shrimps so she helped him take a plateful, but he just left them untouched. This made both of them return home disappointed. In comparison, the days they went into hiding were much sweeter. In those years, many family members opposed his decision to give up his work at the Railways Administration and receive a buyout offer? He thought that this was a once-in-a-blue-moon opportunity. Therefore, Aunt Quan just sold what she could sell, packed a small cloth-wrapper bag and followed him out without uttering a word. They walked through the 10-year’s journey step by step and in a cubicle apartment at first. Then, Aunt Quan found a job at a Korean hostel and observed how they operate, what is their clients’ base and price level. She learned all these by heart. In prior years, the Korean would like to start a new business and transfer the old one to Aunt Quan. She was indebted to it and thought their hardship was finally gone!
The family started to enjoy themselves. They did not need to live in disfavor anymore, and they finally got a home on this prosperous island. They have made it to a stranger to a master. During those days, they always had been going out, Murano, Burano, the beach… more they had been to. It was even more encouraging for them to hear a legendary story of a luxury hotel outside Venice: The master of that hotel is a Chinese who migrated to Italy 70 years ago. And more than that… he is the owner of their house! It is absolutely not by chance. They strongly believed that there should be some supernatural power beyond their control, guiding them to success.
The guests were mainly boarding students. Since the Chinese can apply for visas more easily than before, and they are becoming more affordable, the trend of Chinese tourists traveling in Europe has taken on in recent years. Those Chinese have a "network", which they use for exchanging information. Messages like “What’s the food like in that guest-house in that particular city?" or “What’s the landlord like?" are important for a guest-house to build up its brand. Chinese are hard to serve. If you serve them buns from yesterday, they think you do not care about them. How can we afford to cook buns with costly gas and electricity in this years of hardship? How can we afford to make fresh buns? How can we have extra time and energy to roll every bun? People in this city are used to thaw the buns and reheat them – no one rolls buns every day. Why do the Chinese have such high standards for food when they are out of their country? They just kill our efforts for months and years with one or two negative messages. Young people are often easier to satisfy, but the middle-aged and the old people are very nasty – they have rarely been to other places outside China. They cannot be ignored and require to be treated like “relatives” when staying in the guest house. Being a host of the guest house is very difficult, as difficult as life itself – a host should always show the care to the guests, and sometimes even intervene in family conflicts. Picking up the guests, chatting with the guests, serving the guests like one’s parents, or wetting the floor, or washing the dishes…her husband started to get bored by this routine. Originally he was supposed to be responsible for buying food and carrying it back to the guest house. However, he was not as outgoing and smart as Aunt Quan. He feels ashamed when bargaining with the sellers. So, without consideration, all these jobs were left to Aunt Quan. The Korean worker before took so much care of them too. He often referred many Korean guests to the guest house. Her husband got jealous, claimed that how dare she was treated well by the Korean worker. He got drunk one day, and he accidentally said, “I definitely cannot appreciate the guy who makes me become the cuckold!” He started to go gambling without concealing to Aunt Quan, and later he just went out to gamble secretly. Aunt Quan was very anxious and listening his speech of blaming himself to be good for nothing was heart-wrenching. She blasted into more tears than him. However, just after a short period of time, he went to gamble again, again and again. That is how the days been wasted.
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Her husband opened the door from inside when Aunt Quan just took out the key and was ready to get into the house. “Haven't I told you so many times? You should’ve called me downstairs to help you with all these groceries. Look at how heavy they are! Go, take a rest and I’ll take over!" Quan’s husband took away her folding cart and pushed her into the house. Aunt Quan turned around and stared at her husband. He was stroking his crew-cut hair. Quan’s son was sitting at his desk as usual. Two empty beer bottles lied beside him. Aunt Quan asked, “Why don’t you go to sleep?” she then lowered her voice, “They haven’t gone out, have they?” Before she could finish the sentence, Aunt Quan saw the guest room’s door was ajar and two large suitcases were blocking the corridor. She raised her voice again and said loudly, “Hey there! We have been waiting for you for ages!” Aunt Quan then turned to her husband and complained, “Why didn’t you welcome our guests?” The two guests immediately stood up and explained, “Yes he did. He did. See? We are drinking tea! You must be very tired. It is so hot outside…” She rushed to grab the teapot, opened the lid and groaned, “No! Don’t drink this one! This is not the tea for you!” Aunt Quan was blaming her husband, saying that the tea was for the Korean guests, while taking out several cans of different tea such as Puer, Tieguanyin, green tea and flower tea from the cupboard. She asked the guests sitting outside, “What kind of tea do you Cantonese drin..drink? Let’s choose Tieguanyin. Before the guests could respond, Aunt Quan grabbed the teapot and started boiling water. There were mountains of dishes and bones in the sink. Oil droplets were sparkling on the water’s surface. She shook her head with a smile and said, “What a mess!” She began washing and tidying, and started rambling with the guests with questions like “Where are you from?” or “Where else did you go?” One of the guests asked Aunt Quan about her life in Venice. Aunt Quan laughed and said, “No big difference when you only focus to survive. Our business is hard. Police came to investigate last month. They gave us a notice and told us to move out. You see, we keep moving to other places…” Meanwhile, Aunt Quan craned her head to call her husband: “Water’s ready. Come to serve the tea now!” Quan’s husband rubbed his crew-cut hair and walked out from the guest room, gave an embarrassed smile and said, “That girl called and said she has arrived. Or I go to pick her up?” Aunt Quan glanced at his face in doubt. He turned to the guests and said, “Nowadays people are strange. The girl said she will be wearing a green hat so that it is easier to recognise her from the crowd. What a teen!” He and the guest started laughing. Aunt Quan dried her hands and divided the work. “Wen-qiang can go to pick up the girl and you can bring them to the new house. The bed sheets and pillowcases are ready. Make sure you’ve brought them along.” Aunt Quan ordered her son: “Go. Go to the station and pick up the girl with green hat.” Wen-qiang turned his head and stared at his mother. After a while, he turned his head back and went out wearing his pair of flip-flops. Quan’s husband stood aside, rubbing his hands and giggling “Please drink slowly. We are not in a hurry. I will take you to your place after you finish. It is much quiet there. Sure. Yes. That place is even nearer to the Piazza San Marco. You can go there for a walk after you put down your luggage. Take a good rest. You can come here to have breakfast tomorrow!” said Aunt Quan, urged to pull the luggage and kept pushing the guests away.
Aunt Quan went straight back to the kitchen. The door of the Koreans’ room was half-open. Every inch of the floor was littered with clothing. Aunt Quan opened the fridge. A cool breeze drifted out along with the smell of the fridge. Aunt Quan called that ambiguous smell "the smell of the fridge". No matter how much she cleaned it, how many shredded tea leaves she placed in, the odour never went away. Aunt Quan divided the dishes and numbered them in a tidy way. This could be the sustenance for a few days! Suddenly, something popped up into her mind. She stood upright and dashed into her room. She opened the door. The bag was still hung on the closet door. Aunt Quan tugged it and opened it. As expected, the several-hundred-dollars rent she just collected had gone. Aunt Quan sank back weakly into the chair. She grimaced and thought, "It is hard to guard against a thief from within!" How could she get along? She empathised with him, but who would empathise with her? Aunt Quan spread out her fingers and clasped her hands without leaving any gaps, but the money was still dripping away like water. Aunt Quan stroked the callus on her hands. Tears kept on bursting out.
The phone rang. Aunt Quan wiped her nose, raised her voice and spoke enthusiastically, “Hello! Yes, we do. We do. Three people, right? Yes, we do have rooms. Okay, yeah, you will arrive at half-past ten, right? Yeah, I will pick you up at the train station. Alright, see you tonight.” After hanging up, Aunt Quan sat down for a while again. She signed and walked into the kitchen. The sunset cast light upon the floor. The vegetables on the floor were gloriously gleaming in the luminance. On the other side, the plants on the windowsill were in a deep sleep. Aunt Quan picked up the pot and watered the plants. She scalded her hands realising it was a pot of boiling water. Aunt Quan stared at the withering plants in a daze.
The clusters of tourists downstairs were surging noisily. The noise mixed with each other, becoming waves of buzzes. Aunt Quan reckoned, the island is subsiding as in the rumours. She stood in the buzzing air, just like a grain of floating dust.
