Dark Memory

The upcoming December 25 will be my 23rd Christmas. I am not a Christian, therefore the things that surround the event have no great impression on me other than the knowledge that it seems to be a highly commercial period around the world, and which already has firm foundations in major Chinese cities such as Beijing.

As Christmas approaches, we can see slogans by the hundred hanging outside the stores, advertising Christmas sales. One can also hear a cacophony of Christmas carols and tunes in department stores especiall everything from Silent Night to Jingle Bells. Then there are the Chinese children's choirs which sing carols in the lobbies of hotels, and the TV channels that transmit all manner of Christmas movies and other seasonal programs.

Curiously, my most memorable Christmas has a lot to do with church, or rather, church led me directly to an unforgettable Christmas. It was in 1995, when I was 16 and a freshman at a senior high school in Tianjin, a neighbor of Beijing. There were then two major churches in Tianjin, one named Xikai, in the center of the city, and the other Wanghailou, in northern Tianjin.

I was curious about the church, because the stately and recherche buildings always reminded me of what I had seen and read about their foreign counterparts-all far removed from our lives in China. At that time, churches were not open to the public except on Christmas Eve, so December 24 was one's only chance to venture into the mysterious sanctum.

Since we had gone to Wanghailou Church on Christmas Eve, 1995, several classmates and I decided to visit the Xikai Church the following December 24, even though it was quite a distance from both our school and my home. Our school provided us with accommodations on weekdays, but we had to go to bed before 10pm. We doubted we could return to the school before 10pm, so agreed to return to our homes just for that night.

It took us almost an hour to reach the church, where we saw some hundreds of people waiting outside. Many more people were heading for the same place. It seemed that I had many comrades who also wanted to satisfy their curiosity about the church! All these people queued outside the church's small gate, and were led into the building in groups by staff. We joined the queue and waited our turn on that very cold Christmas Eve.

Finally we were inside, and were shown around its east and west wings before, all too quickly, we came to another small gate, the exit! We were a bit disappointed, our having expected to hear a cherubic choir and people mouthing prayers of which we knew nothing. All we got was a quick conducted trip around the church.

As a result we lingered outside the church, looking forward to a special service when Christmas Day arrived at midnight. Such waiting is not always boring, especially when you have friends joking with you. But nothing happened. All our imaginings about a magnificent Christmas remained just that ... imagination. So we said farewell to each other and headed to our homes.

BTM readers familiar with Tianjin know that its roads are not (or weren't at that time, anyway) neatly laid out in a checkerboard style grid system, as are those in Beijing. Getting from A to B could be very confusing, especially in the dark. Back then, numerous people had told me of their getting lost in my hometown, having gone around in circles when trying to reach a destination.

My experience that night proved their complaints to be true. I was not very familiar with the route between the church and my home, so I made a guess as to the direction. I wandered on, seeing less and less people on the roads. After quite a while, I caught sight of a building that seemed familiar. I headed towards it, hopeful that it would point the way towards my home and a warm bed. The nearer I got, the more my heart sank. Then the truth hit me. It was the church! I too had gone around in a circle.
Naturally I was upset and a little frightened, because it was nearly 1am. I thought of calling home and asking my parents to pick me up, though I knew I would get a good scolding. Thus I decided to keep moving in hope of a clue that would set me on the right path. Alas, I found myself in a totally unfamiliar area.

By now I was really frightened. There was nobody around, and the ghostly buildings and everything else seemed strange and threateningly quiet. I even wondered if my dilemma was what the church called punishment from above for being a naughty girl in not calling my parents. So I swallowed my pride and telephoned home immediately.
You want to know the outcome, right? I got a terrible telling-off and subsequent years of teasing from family and friends. Why the teasing? Simply because this intelligent, sensible 16-year-old girl had ended up hopelessly lost a mere two streets from her home!