Wang Xiaohui - My Visual Diary - 15 Years of Life in Germany (Treasure Edition)

Author: Wang Xiaohui
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-08-01
Features: No flowers, no wedding dresses, no rings, no ceremonies, no guests or banquets, no well-wishes from friends, because no one knew, and it couldn’t be known. Only a crudely printed and flashy marriage certificate with a bright red background and golden double happiness characters, featuring photos of me and Yu Lin. Those were two young and naive faces, looking like siblings, smiling sweetly. This was all my memory of my only "big happy day" in life. The rest was the seemingly endless packing, because there was so much to bring. It was the night before I left for Germany to study in September 1986. In the early 1980s, opportunities to study abroad were much rarer than today, especially for obtaining government scholarships, which was even harder. When I was a sophomore at Tongji University in Shanghai, two classes in our architecture department each selected one student to study German in preparation for a selection a year later to send one to the Vienna Academy of Arts. At the time, I and another student named Yu Lin from the other class were chosen, and this is how we happened to meet. Yu Lin was called by the department head at the time a "rarely encountered" and "exceptionally talented" student, and later the academy’s president also said, "A talent like him only appears every seven or eight years." His design assignments and paintings were always displayed in the department corridor’s showcase as examples for everyone to admire, naturally making his name quite well-known among classmates. In my memory, he was tall and slim with a childlike face, always smiling, and his movements and gestures occasionally revealed a touch of cleverness, as if he wasn’t very talkative. When students encountered difficulties in their studies, many would go to him for help. It was said he was kind, modest, and happy to help others. Some designs would score much higher after just one of his revisions. I never went to him for help, but whenever I visited his classroom, I would always see classmates standing by his desk asking for his assistance. I felt he wasn’t selfish or conservative like some top students. When I learned I had been selected to study German full-time, I was so happy I gave all my textbooks to classmates, determined to study German well for the study abroad program. Meanwhile, he still sat in his usual seat in his classroom, continuing his "old class" work. This made me feel a bit ashamed and regretful, because I had been too reckless and hadn’t considered what would happen if something went wrong and I couldn’t study German—what awkward position I would be in. We didn’t formally get to know each other until we started studying German. After studying for a few months, for some reason, the study abroad spot was given to students from the foreign language department. Since we were the "Class of 77" students who resumed the college entrance exam after the Cultural Revolution, and only six months younger than the "Class of 78," and our German studies had been delayed by a full year, we were eager to catch up with the "Class of 78" curriculum and graduate school exams. So, like scattered soldiers, we attended classes and studied in both grades, almost inseparable as we moved in and out. The older classmates who knew us better often made some friendly jokes about us, calling us a "golden boy and girl pair," but we were just clueless, always rushing to pass one exam after another. That year, we didn’t go to Vienna, but it brought us together. We had such a happy and joyful time studying together. Because we were so busy, we didn’t have much time or leisure to "stroll under the flowers and moon" or "cherish each other tenderly," more like carefree children. To make up for the missed half a year of classes, I had to reluctantly give up many hobbies, like watching movies, reading novels, sewing, and the newly allowed ballroom dancing. The only things I didn’t want to give up were travel during holidays and activities with the student photography association, because I loved photography almost to the point of obsession. At the time, I would take many photos during holidays and spend whole nights in the darkroom developing and enlarging them, without professional books or a teacher, wasting a lot of film and photo paper. If I hadn’t wasted so much, perhaps I wouldn’t have what I have today. P3-P5