Chapter 8 "Comrade Shu Ran, do you think this is Shanghai..."
By the time they returned to the dugout, it was completely dark. Shu Ran lifted the felt blanket and went inside.
Zhou Qiaozhen was already lying down, facing the inner wall, with her head covered by the quilt. Sister Wang was mending an old garment by the dim light, while Li Xiulan was curled up in a corner, seemingly lost in thought.
"Comrade Shu Ran is back?" Sister Wang looked up and greeted her warmly.
"Mm," Shu Ran replied, walking to her bunk and setting down the enamel basin. She took off her coat, folded it neatly, and placed it on the camphor wood chest. Her gaze inadvertently swept over the seam of her coat pocket—there seemed to be a small white piece of paper stuck there.
Shu Ran's heart stirred, and she sat down without making a sound. Under the guise of tidying her clothes, she quickly reached into the gap with her fingers, picked out the folded little piece of paper, and held it in her palm.
She stood up nonchalantly and walked to the water bucket deep inside the dugout to scoop water for washing.
In the dim light, she unfolded the note with her back to the others. It contained a few lines of slightly messy but still neat handwriting:
Comrade Shu Ran:
A fleeting glance at the canteen revealed your melancholy. The Gobi Desert's winds are harsh, while Shanghai, our hometown, is warm and welcoming. We are both wanderers in this world, and Wenbin understands your plight. If you have some free time, I hope we can chat. Perhaps the bond of fellow countrymen can offer some solace in our loneliness. (Read and then burn.)
Zhou Wenbin
Shu Ran frowned slightly. This Zhou Wenbin, passing on a note like this at a time like this, was far too risky.
Without any hesitation, she held the note to the kerosene lamp made from an ink bottle next to her. The flame spread quickly, and Shu Ran watched it turn into a small pile of ashes.
Are we both in the same boat? Shu Ran tugged at the corner of her mouth.
After washing up, Shu Ran sat back down on her bunk. She took out a hardcover notebook and a fountain pen that she had brought from Shanghai. She then rummaged through the bottom of the camphor wood chest and pulled out several old books: a Xinhua Dictionary, an arithmetic manual, a thin book on natural science, and a well-worn copy of a selection of revolutionary songs.
She carefully unscrewed the ink bottle cap and dipped the nib of her pen in the ink. The light was so dim that she had to bring her face very close to see the lines on the paper.
Lesson preparation—where to begin? She knew nothing about the students here.
Shu Ran thought for a moment, then turned to look at Sister Wang, who was still mending clothes, and asked in a low voice, "Sister Wang, I want to ask you something. How many children in our company are able to attend school? How old are they? Has anyone taught them to read before? What kind of children are they?"
Sister Wang stopped sewing, combed the needle through her hair, and sighed, "Oh, children... it's a complicated matter!"
She started counting on her fingers: "Let's start with the older and younger ones. The older ones are twelve or thirteen, almost as tall as adults. The younger ones were just weaned not long ago, some are seven or eight years old. In total... I estimate there are more than a dozen, but the number is hard to say, it depends on how busy each family is and whether the children have time."
"And where did these kids come from?" Sister Wang gestured towards the door. "Our livestock company, young and old, comes from all over the country! Some, like my husband, are veterans who stayed after being demobilized from the army in the 1950s. I came from my hometown in Henan later, but sadly, I never got to see him before he passed away. Others are young people who came from all over the country to support the border regions in response to the call a few years ago. And then there are the newly arrived educated youth like you. All these workers' children are Han Chinese."
She paused, then lowered her voice: "There are quite a few more, they are the 'old Xinjiang people' who originally lived in this Gobi Desert! Many of them herd livestock near the company, or work in the company. Their children often play with our children."
At this point, Sister Wang frowned, as if recalling some troublesome matter: "These ethnic minority children... the problem lies in their speech! At home, they all speak their own languages, babbling incoherently, which we Han people can't understand a word of. After playing with our children for a while, we can understand a few of the simplest phrases, like 'eat,' 'drink,' 'come here,' and 'go back,' but that's about it! For anything slightly more complex, like 'bring that basket here' or 'where did the sheep go,' it's like listening to gibberish; we have to rely entirely on gestures!"
She shook her head helplessly: "Who has ever properly taught them to read before? We're too busy taking care of our Han children! Some are herding sheep, some are gathering firewood, and others are doing odd jobs for their families. Reading? They're lucky if they can count their own sheep! The oldest Han boy, named Shitou, his father is the company's points clerk. I think he learned a few characters from his father's work point book and can write his own name in a crooked way. As for the ethnic minority children, and the younger ones, they've never even touched a pen. They probably don't even know how to say their own names in Mandarin!"
Shu Ran became even more anxious. These students ranged in age and had almost no prior knowledge, which was already difficult enough. Of the dozen or so children, probably half couldn't even understand what she was saying. The difficulty of this literacy campaign was simply hellish.
"Then... if classes start tomorrow, will the children be able to come? Especially the children from ethnic minorities, will their families agree?" Shu Ran asked, clinging to her last hope.
"This..." Sister Wang looked troubled, lowering her voice even further, "Comrade Shu Ran, I've told you this, but please don't tell anyone it was me. Director Zhao... he may have agreed to give you a place, but he might not really be happy about it. The children's parents are also struggling; the work in the team is heavy, and one less laborer means one less work point. It's easier for Han families, but for those ethnic minority families... they value the children helping with chores even more—herding sheep, milking cows, looking after younger siblings—those are all extremely important things! And..."
She hesitated for a moment, "They might think that learning Mandarin and Chinese is not very useful? It's hard to say whether they can come tomorrow, or how many they can come. It would be good if a few Han children could come, but as for the children from ethnic minorities... you have to be prepared, it might be difficult to get even one."
Shu Ran's heart sank. The situation was worse than she had anticipated. She nodded, asked no more questions, and sat back down in her bunk.
What to teach? How to teach it?
Countless educational practices she had learned and applied in the 21st century flashed through her mind…
She took a deep breath, put down her pen, and wrote the lesson plan for the first lesson of the new semester on the first page of her notebook.
"My name... I must be able to write my name!" she murmured to herself. Finally, the pen tip came down, and she wrote the two characters "Name" heavily under "First Lesson of the New Semester".
“Work points! These are my lifeline!” She wrote down “work” and “points” again.
"And hands! Working hands! Shepherd hands!"
The word "hand" followed closely behind. Her thoughts became clearer and clearer, and her pen moved quickly: sheep, horse, water, numbers, sun, moon, big, small... She circled each of these most basic words that were closely related to life.
She remembered Sister Wang saying that the children could understand simple words like "eat" and "drink".
“Yes! Let’s start with these!” She then wrote down “eat,” “rice,” and “drink” next to them.
For the ethnic minority children who couldn't understand, she opened a blank page and skillfully began drawing simple sketches, thinking about how to break down the complex strokes into simpler ones, imagining the children's bewildered eyes...
She only managed to close the notebook filled with words and drawings when the flame in the oil lamp grew weaker and weaker.
Shu Ran blew out the light and lay down on the new mattress. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was unusually clear.
What will tomorrow bring? A dozen or so children? A few children? Or none at all? Will Zhao Weidong change his mind at the last minute? Will Zhou Qiaozhen sabotage him?
She mentally simulated possible scenarios and considered how to deal with them. She didn't fall into a deep sleep until late at night.
*
As dawn broke, Shu Ran got up. She washed her face, changed into a durable old blouse, and braided her hair, pinning it up at the back of her head. She picked up the notebook she had written in the night before and a few books, and stepped out of the dugout.
She went to the tool shed classroom first. The morning light shone through the holes in the roof and the cracks in the walls, making the shed much brighter. She arranged the adobe desks more neatly and blew off the dust.
Everything is ready, except for the east wind.
She walked towards the production office. Zhao Weidong usually started arranging the day's work very early.
Sure enough, the office door was open, and Zhao Weidong was frowning at the production progress chart on the wall, tapping his finger on an indicator marked "seriously behind schedule." Technician Ma was squatting by the door, smoking a cigarette, looking worried.
“Report! Director Zhao!” Shu Ran stood at the door, her voice clear and bright.
Zhao Weidong turned his head and saw it was her. His brows furrowed even more, and his tone became impatient: "Comrade Shu Ran? So early? Speak quickly if you have something to say, I'm busy! If the drainage ditch of the third platoon isn't finished today, the whole company will be in trouble!"
"Director Zhao, I only have a few words to say, I won't take up your time." Shu Ran walked in and said respectfully, "You approved the location yesterday, and I've already prepared the classrooms. We're ready to start teaching today. I'd like to clarify something with you regarding the students."
"Students? What students?" Zhao Weidong seemed to just remember this, waving his hand, "Oh, the higher-ups have assigned you to take time off to do some literacy work for the kids, this Comrade Chen told me. As for those kids! Didn't I say, you decide for yourself! Whoever is free can go! But the premise is that it can't interfere with the team's work! The kids should still do what they're supposed to do!"
“Director Zhao,” Shu Ran explained patiently, “teaching requires a certain continuity and order. I would like to know if the company has a relatively fixed list of children of suitable learning age? Approximately how many are there? How much study time can be guaranteed each day? This way I can arrange the course schedule.”
Zhao Weidong scoffed as if he'd heard something out of the blue, picked up his old enamel mug from the table, and gulped down a mouthful of water: "A fixed list? Study time? Comrade Shu Ran, do you think this is a Western-style school in Shanghai? This is a frontier livestock company! The front line of production and construction!"
He put down the jar, wiped his mouth, and said in an unquestionable tone, "Listen! There's only one class in the company! There are no other teachers, just you! You are the principal, the homeroom teacher, and all the subject teachers! You're responsible for everything!"
Although Shu Ran was mentally prepared, her heart still sank when she heard the verdict of the "one-person school".
Zhao Weidong ignored her expression and continued to give instructions: "As for the children, go ask each household yourself! Go to the sheepfold and stables! If any parents agree, and if any child doesn't have any work at the time, then you teach them! You decide what to teach them! But remember these few red lines!"
He held up a finger, staring at Shu Ran. "First, safety! If a single hair on a child's head is stolen from your shabby shed, I'll hold you responsible! Second, you absolutely cannot encourage the children to shirk their work! Not a single inch of their assigned work can be missed! Third, and most importantly!" He emphasized, his finger almost poking Shu Ran in the face, "Their political direction absolutely cannot go wrong! If you teach children with problematic thinking, Comrade Shu Ran, not only will you lose your job as a teacher, but your responsibility will be immense!"
Technician Ma, standing nearby, exhaled a smoke ring and chimed in, "Old Zhao is right! The last one is of paramount importance! Teacher Shu, given your family background... we need to be even more careful! Teaching the kids to sing revolutionary songs, recite quotations, and recognize phrases like 'grasp revolution, promote production' is the safest approach!"
Zhao Weidong finally made the decision: "It's settled then! The location is yours, the title is yours, how you use it is up to you! The company has neither the manpower nor the funds to help you! You have to overcome the difficulties yourself! Alright, if you have nothing else to do, hurry up and get ready, don't just stand here!"
"Understood, Director Zhao. I will overcome the difficulties, ensure the correct political direction, and strive to do a good job in teaching so as not to delay production."
Stepping out of the production office, Shu Ran took a deep breath, suppressing the frustration in her heart. There was no list of students, no fixed schedule, no designated study time. Everything depended on her own efforts.
Instead of returning to the tool shed, she turned and headed towards Chen Yuanjiang's temporary office. Since he had given it the title of "Qiming Primary School," and Officer Zhang had said he was in charge of new staff placement, it was perfectly reasonable to ask him for help.
He knocked on the door, and a deep voice came from inside: "Come in."
Pushing open the door, I saw Chen Yuanjiang hunched over an old wooden table, writing something.
Several documents were spread out on the table. He looked up, saw it was Shu Ran, and a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.
“Officer Chen,” Shu Ran stopped and got straight to the point, “Qiming Elementary School is scheduled to start classes today. But Director Zhao said that I need to recruit the students myself. I’m not familiar with the situation of the company’s personnel, especially the families of employees with school-age children, and families from nearby pastoral areas who might send their children. I have no clue what to do. I would like to trouble you to see if you have a list of family members and children registered in the company? This is a teaching job assigned to me by the organization, and I need basic information to start.”
Chen Yuanjiang put down his pen, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment. After a few seconds of silence, he opened a drawer under the table, rummaged around for a while, and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"A roster of family members and children of the company's employees," he pushed the paper to the side of the table. "There are twelve school-age children registered, aged seven to thirteen. Their addresses are marked."
He then took out an even thinner booklet from deep within the drawer. "There are about three permanent grazing sites nearby. The situation of the school-age children at each site is unknown and needs to be investigated on-site."
He traced a line on the table with his finger. “The pastoral area is located about three miles west of the company, along the drainage canal. In a slightly low-lying area, there is a small area of poplar forest and red willow forest formed by underground springs. The herders graze their livestock on the edge of the forest belt and the meadows downstream. That is the place with the most stable water source within dozens of miles.”
He spoke slowly, but provided clear and precise information.
"Thank you, Officer Chen!" Shu Ran was overjoyed and quickly picked up the two pieces of paper.
The employee roster included the employee's name, parents' names, and age, followed by an address such as "Dugout X Row X Number" or "Adobe House Owner X Room".
The booklet in the pastoral area only contained the householder's name and approximate location.
“The pastoral areas are complex, with language barriers and diverse customs,” Chen Yuanjiang said, looking at her. His tone was calm but cautionary. “Be mindful of your approach. Safety first.”
"I understand, thank you for reminding me." Shu Ran thanked her sincerely, carefully folded the two pieces of paper, and put them in her pocket. With this information, she felt much more at ease.
A note from the author:
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