It Starts With Z. 由此向前

This site did not turn out to be viewer-friendly to my Chinese friends and family. Now I move to a new site for writings and pictures sharing of my 'new life' in Houay Xay, Laos! Check it out:

http://zhangjipei.spaces.live.com

多谢捧场

It's been a while, and yes, I do read Glamour.com from time to time, and the Dating-blog-turned-'Alyssacentric.' Internet has totally redefined 'seeing and be scene'--or, shall we say, the internet has made it a pandemic of sorts. However, this is not to say that I have a serious-faced feminist critique of this little 29-year-old-gal blog. I guess I am just saying that by virtue of me writing here, I am no escape of the pandemic either!

She had an interesting question yesterday: what's the best compliment you've ever received...of course I had to read readers' comments--there's where the real juice is. We need that, don't we?

The one that came to my mind first, however, I am reluctant to claim it's my 'best-ever', but there's of course a reason why it did: it was unexpected from a stranger and it was recent--
a few weeks ago, when it was still fairly cold, I was standing at the bus stop on Prospect Street, probably in my long black coat. When the Yale Shuttle bus arrived, through the open door, I saw it's the friendly and always smiling Hispanic driver, the relatively young one too in comparison with most others. I said hi and got in the almost empty bus. Later, when the only other passenger got off, he looked at me from the mirror with a smile and said: "You always look so nice, like a model." =) Big smile in my heart--to my bye-bye-college-years look since June, 2006.
--Now he'd wave to me even when I am walking and he's just driving by.

Other recent good ones that gave me strength and hope came from a long-time friend and mentor and a new student of mine. The former said in an email reply to my 'job drought' and devastation that 'You have made a very good and strong impression on a lot of folks around Yale, and you have a lot of 'fans'. Be patient a bit longer...'
Then came March 15th, the 'two weeks after', four prospects, and two solid offers.
My new student (12 years older than me), on the second or third meeting, bought me a wonderfully insightful/inspiring book--the reason to do that? "I can tell that you are going to do great things."

The conclusion? Glamour is no accident. It exists because of all the people, love, encounters, and words that make we realize we are beautiful and special.

雪颜破冰，阳光淙淙，山色水色，一半一半的，也还有独一无二的今夕。没有杏花春雨，燕子剪尾，这一座小城的歌德式塔楼擎天，镇守昼夜于此时的令人晕眩的平衡。然后，冬眠长梦中悠然觉醒的生灵开始一朵一朵地点燃将要燃烧整个半年的簇新的火焰，给从冥王哈得斯的幽府中回娘家的帕瑟芬尼照亮路途⋯⋯

I've got no more explanations: I am just stuck here for the time being, not a student, not an employee, not a spouse, not just a visitor either. My life is flowing through many containers of different shape and material. I adopt the shape for a while, but I am never IT. I am still liquid, still running, flowing, moving. I am waiting, now, for a gush of wind or a change of landscape that generates the energy to move me out from all this love and support: they shaped me without any doubt, yet, it is no place to stay yet. I am still on my way of searching--so no more questions, I've got no more explanations--I am not here for many of the usual reasons mentioned above, and I am leaving.

辽远的高天的风声比那胆怯的春天是显得大方多了。光秃秃的枝桠后面是昏昏然不明就里的太阳和今夜有点孤高的月亮——而我不知道是醉了还是疯了，在这个出奇清静的星期五的黄昏和晚上半心安半晕眩的在客厅里的沙发上披着条毯子读最心爱的书，听呜呜的风声大批迁徙。一个人炒了半成的饭，电视打不开于是又调到让我们都觉得又好笑又俗气却又可爱的99.9——听女主播浑成老练的声音和一首接一首的爱情歌曲。听到我大学室友厌恶的Lady in Red, 我一个人在厨房里都要笑死了。吃得有点撑，然后一边理碗橱一边听到另外一个点歌的哥们儿说此刻正在一位在学驾车的美女的车里面，要求女主播放一首I Will Survive. ——不用说，音乐响起的时候，我已经在厨房里头大跳特跳起来了：Semaphore时代长发的荣光和我首场演出这支压轴舞曲的狂欢混合着肢体和头脑的记忆让我此刻在120 Huntington旁若无人（其实本来也没人）地旋转，大笑大叫——这种不假思索的快乐的醉意让我暗自惊讶，然而耳畔高远的风声自在潮起，于是也便了然了：大风天，大疯天也！

Today Edgard left, flying back to Brazil.
The entire house fell in love with this unexpected beautiful young man--I tell you, language is NO barrier--although he has to struggle with English (as a result, we've been communicating with him using Spanish, Italian, and body language among other things).

It's the magic of 120 Huntington? When Miss M knocked on my door this morning with tearful eyes, we both understood the best and the worst of being so lucky to live in this house: we've met wonderful individuals worlds away, shared instant click and irreplaceable memories, then we had to part our ways. --It has already been three of such kind since I moved here last July...before Edgard was Yifei--my brilliantly cute Chinese, and before Yifei was Claudio the so-not-stereotypical-Brazilian. I remember feeling 'the end of an era' when Yifei was leaving--sad. I've successfully avoided many parting dramas by being cool and rational, but I gave up now--no need to pretend to be strong when being alive means tears is a requirement, especially if you want to be able to laugh. I got up at 4 that December morning to see Yifei off--so did poor Jerry and Elizabeth, holding Christmas wreath at the front door. I hugged my little Chinese girl, turned around in the darkness and tasted my tears.

It's alive with a changing face and mumbles to itself in some unrecognizable language. Once in a while, it makes a splitting sound and gets anyone's instant attention, yet it keeps on humming its own songs, pretending nothing had just happened, like a child of bright eyes with who-knows-what in his mind.

The color burns. So is its songs and mumbling. We all watched Frida together in the living room on this cold Saturday night. The ones out came back and the ones working finally returned. On the screen, Frida and Diego's primary colors burn like the Mexican sun, and their love and hate sing together. All the tears shed were like pouring water onto that burning fire--it's not meant to cool things down, they rise the same instant as the hottest steam with a scream.

The magic is passion. It burns hearts, and its child is fire.

二月的如期而至，冬至与春分的正中点，今天，这个暖冬的今天，有人迫不及待的要从那些个棕灰的地鼠身上寻找春天的讯息——这不禁让人微笑，假想一个前工业时代简单原始的二月，土色的世界，扎实的执着。

昨天收到好友的信封，非电子的正统土黄色信封。里面是他毕业前的大作——和他们寝室里兄弟们捣鼓出来的短片。睡觉前看了，微笑于那我未曾经历过的中国大学生时代的一些淳朴、生涩和“生色”。 ＝）从小在一个大学校园里长大，所以多少补贴了那十八岁到二十二的时空转移，看他的片子，在夜里津津有味地，又自然而然地想起高中——那所谓真正’淳朴‘和’生涩‘的年代。也是那些课外活动，那些因之结下友谊的比念书不知道要全情投入多少的分分秒秒。我们有一班精灵古怪飞扬的灵魂，梢加点拨便更是少年得意的一丝多少中规中矩的张狂。初到美国，我便是扎扎实实的被这里年轻人文化中的一些毫不加修饰的肆意所骇到，虽然现在多少耳濡目染地多了几分认同，但在一个清晰的冬日黑夜，坐在床上看高中时代好友的毕业电影，那一点点对往事和那个时空的遥想和感怀仍旧让我脸上的微笑久久地同我一道呼吸。

于是又一年的春天要到了吧？我的记忆和假想也都会开始生发和滋长，向过去和未来这两端的未知无限延展，并沿途任意分支，企图漫布所有可能的方向。

Haven't moved since June 9, 2006. The only chance of dancing bare feet on a wood floor in a studio since I came to New Haven was at an audition this Sunday--an audition for some Yale kids dance troupe that a pseudo Yale personnel like me is only half legal for. Well, 'legal,' funny word, isn't it???

On quite a briskly chilly Sunday afternoon, I walked down the hill along Prospect Street. The unique Gothic tower of Yale University gym is probably the only one today that is managed by flesh and blood human individuals rather than beeping and flashing machines at the entrance. Showing my Yale visitor ID which I covered the long passed expiration date, I got into the gym pas des problems.

Then in a fifth-floor dance studio with skylight, I danced for two hours with bare feet and my modern dance gears that I dug out from my dusty suitcases. --Man, I loved it.
Only eight girls including me, and they look like clueless frosh--good girls, well-educated (obviously), come in with peach-colored pointe shoes and partly velvet leotards. Of course--nowadays, it is probably hard to find alleged dancers comme moi who was never officially trained by a bar! But hey, a studio can never make you a performer, only a stage can! I am proud, therefore, for my 'otherness' and 'mixture' in dance background and training.
The eight of us, all picked a 'code name' tag, learned a ballet, a modern, and a jazz combination. I picked 'tangerine'--I did not need to think. The choice was obvious. * There were only one black girl, and her codename was 'chocolate.'-------No comment.

We did a group warm up--very ballet oriented, and only now I start to miss Jane's classic lying on the floor. And that was where I started to take in, the message and concept of modern dance. The location? Cowling gym studio, Carleton College, overlooking the soccer field with the arb as a chanting backdrop.

Ballet is never my thing--my balance is particularly shaky, among all things. The modern combination was....well, very beginning-stage of a construct, conceptually. (Hehe, it is nice to feel critical sometimes, because I don't feel expert enough to comment on many things...). So I probably should just say I did not like the modern routine they taught because it was just a bunch of kicks--the 'look I am in the air with my arms and legs spread out' type of stuns rather than---quality. Yes, kicks take up space, but another pillar of modern dance is quality and quality change in movement. Ballet's stunning jumps and turns cut through spaces and air, in particular, but modern dance fundamentally challenges body's reaction or interaction with gravity, therefore, the movement is more 'grounded', low, and varies in rhythms and quality as if you are taken away by space and gravity. Modern dance is honest in exposing our inability to control ourselves in relation to the natural forces or environment. We are not conqueror or victors of human impossible (dancing on toes, anybody?) and the space (the jumps again) as how ballet seems to claim. Rather, we let the gravity to pull us off center, we use the floor to explore what our spine enables us to do when the spinal energy, for most part, is over occupied by supporting a standing--as we claim how evolution sets us apart from beasts. Modern dance is therefore, not supposed to be melodramatic in content, and not showy or light in presentation. It liberates not by kicking, but by ground. Is it supposed to be pretty? Well, it's not a concern, honey.

So much for modern dance. So much for being a nerd but only half a dancer. And so much for my happy 'modern sore' all over my over-rested body. So I am taking it slow today, feeling very much like a grandma telling stories of 'back in the days when I was in a dance studio'...

Oh and the results for the audition? I wrote on my information card that I am 'not a student,' and I got an email two hours later saying sorry you suck but we were happy you were here today (not theses words, obviously), addressing to 'dear dancers.' I know that is B.S. because between me and the seven other nice girls, or even including some of the members of the troupe--I ROCKED THAT STUDIO, THAT FLOOR. I don't even know the name of the dance group. I simply received a forwarded message for the audition. After all, It is THE Yale University, and I am only arguably 'legal,' so am I surprised?
But I knew what I was in there for--the floor, the space, the mirrors, the two hours that made me sweat and happy. Who cares if my ID is expired?

有风的星期三，纽约的明媚在高楼的夹缝中吝啬地为这里的喧嚣装点门面。紧缩了脖子，我从一点多的Grand Central出来，压低了今年头一次戴上的帽子，沿着42街一路朝西，去拜望中国驻纽约领事馆——心里有点老大不情愿的：因为护照即将过期，新的法定出来，今年元旦起不再办延期，申请人必须本人递交换发护照的申请。一下子不但无法享受邮政申请的种种懒人方便，还要平白无故地多交几十块钱。唯一的安慰呢，是这本新护照有效期从原来的五年延长到了十年，大可以’高枕无忧‘一阵子。于是几个星期前，在彻底对Walgreens这种便利店的七块美金证件快照失去信心之后，下决心找了一家正式的照相馆，印度老板的热情招呼下，照了六张来美国之后最像样的证件照，虽然花掉二十块，但是想想毕竟是为了未来十年，这点面子还是要了吧。

护照签证处门面小小的，人不多。守门的都是不讲中文的老黑，让我一下子大脑转不过来，不晓得说什么，白紧张了半秒钟。其中一个慈眉善目的问我有没有带照片，我小有得意地说带了，一边在心里鄙夷了一下在网站上介绍的签证处的内部快相业务。领了号，上得楼来，没有什么人，零零落落的几个散在窗口。走上前，年轻的一位小姐看了看我递的表格、护照及复印件，没什么表情。几秒钟，却把照片在那浅浅的小槽里一推——“照片不行，相纸不是光面的，不能做护照。” 什么？这我可没听说过。当时只晓得要照对尺寸，哪里还有管到什么光不光？？？有点气不打一处来，又问了那小姐几句，她还是那么面无表情地打发我到楼下去照八块钱的快照——“其他东西我收了，你照好照片就上来直接办。”还不放心，“不用领号了？”“不用了。”

二楼四面是镜子，我愤愤地瞧了一眼自己：戴帽子戴得乱七八糟的头发，更何况现在头发不比上个月，更是长得有了刘海。穿了一件黑毛衣，因为当天冷，所以里头是Jerry和Elizabeth圣诞节送我的枣红贴身保暖衫——不算是最理想的搭配，但是谁想到要照相呢？
心里便如此赌了气，知道没有好’下场。‘ ——那个小小过道的照相处，一架自动的闪光灯不管有没有人照相每几秒钟就瞎你一次眼，让人好不烦躁。还好那个照相的阿姨还挺亲切的，脸上的微笑没有掺假，但是多少有点同情，知道不管你倾国倾城，到了这里，都是一张扁脸，平白地僵硬在一张光面的廉价相纸上作为一个’真有此人‘的片面凭证，跟你走遍海角天涯。

不消说，阿姨再亲切，这种被迫的出其不意照不出好样子——于是我一副乱发蓬松’大义凛然‘外加有点’无名肿毒待查‘的猪头样被印了一式四分，送交窗口。本来因为那阿姨好心的笑容而稍微松懈下来的无名紧张在好不容易步出那大厅之后又瞬间绷紧——天哪，未来十年哪！！！就那副猪头样？？？

顺风怏怏往回走，也没了什么在纽约逗留的心情。想搭个火车就赶快回家好了——想，应该办一个世界超模宇宙明星的证件照大汇展，看我们每一个社会产品可以被黯哑的庞大社会政府组织机构平面成一个什么样的光滑存在——想起了动画片里头的人物，天上砸钢琴下来也顶多压成薄薄的一张，不死人、不见血。

路过时代广场，我从帽檐底下没精打采地望了一眼林立的巨幅广告牌：无数俊男靓女在同一个平面上光鲜靓丽着他们每几个星期更新一次的庞大面孔。

My roommate Miss M knocked on my door in the 5pm darkness to say hi to a little stressed-out me. Her voice was low, and she told me that she just heard from her Moroccan friend that a medical student at Yale, a French guy whom they both knew, just committed suicide. "When?" I asked, stunned. "On Sunday." She answered after a pause. We were partying then, I thought, glass full of champagne and toasting with people we don't even know, wishing each other good luck, best of luck, with our lives that only we can face. At the time of New Year, a few famous deaths evoked feelings seem so far yet so near, but I am speechless at this one, this young stranger's quiet death. He chose to put an end to his own life when the world simply spins to another day, just, another day...what struggle, what loneliness, what helplessness, what cruelty must be in that final quiet scream...
When the living ones lit up fireworks to try to convince ourselves that life is somewhat colorful if not glorious, some, took the last breath he saved to blow out his own candle.

A corner of the world thus went dark. In my own tiny candle light, I cannot 'see' that darkness, but I felt it. It was cold.

News everyday does not always mean that it is a new world everyday--yet at the end of 2006--with the number 6 believed to mean 'smoothness' in Chinese--there were heavy-weight headlines one after another, marking the deaths and births of leaders of the past and turning of the new chapters in important international entities. I would not be so naive to believe that 'new' automatically translates into 'better,' yet nevertheless, it is like the party shuffle on your iTunes when God (don't necessarily mean it in a biblical way) is the DJ--during that half of a second between songs, the party or the chaos pauses in a magical unison with all wondering what would be the next tune, next beat.

I was at a New Year's Eve party last night in New Haven in a room full of Italian, Moroccan, Russian, Austrian, German, French, Romanian, and Ukrainian. I was the only Chinese, only Asian and I 'speak perfect English,' 'you don't have an accent'...It's true that I speak perfect American English, but sometimes I wish I do, have a 'Chinese accent.'--because, hey, I am not from California.
I remembered when learning English, British accent was replaced by American accent to be the new fad when I was in second or third grade--and Chinese accent? Are you kidding me? That's something that we'd do all possible to get rid of--it's not 'standard,' not 'real,' not 'pretty'--and not 'good.'
It's just different.
And...according to 'Love Actually,' the loveboy Colin's sex dreamland of America (in Wisconsin or somewhere) can be so easily conquered by his 'cute British accent' alone. =) He sure is not stupid.
...
So I wondered about the next party shuffle and the next new accent on this new year afternoon. Although the gloominess outside makes me sleepy, dreams have kept me awake.

当别人的梦想在你身上实现的时候，你说你要远行、去寻找你自己的——你可以听见他们手中的活计纷纷掉落的声音。他们誊出手来，拉你挽你，嘴里说的、心里想的都是“疯了疯了”。他们宁愿看你一辈子做他们的一个可以直立行走的活生生梦想却不愿承认一个残酷却简单的事实：你也不过是跟他们一样一个由猿进化的直立行走的人罢了，不是什么迪士尼梦工厂DVD里头三维的虚拟。他们觉得你好像已经是一个千里眼、顺风耳的“大圣”，守一方得天独厚的乐土，早可以一个筋斗西天打一个转，顺便把那和尚要预定的真经捎回来，生活岂不是简单又随意？然而你自己暗笑自己，其实还只不过是一个迂腐的唐僧罢了，刚刚开始招兵买马。有点迟疑，有点胆怯，一腔善心，一脑浆糊却不出声地承担起大唐盛世歌舞升平里别人都不愿过问的跋涉，还得一路拼凑起由一只多动症的石猴、一头天性享乐的丑猪、一个有前科的河妖和一个落难白马王子组成的正宗杂牌军。别人的梦想就象是一个心急的孩子看西游记－－孙悟空已经神通广大了，为什么还得陪路都不会走的唐僧闯那九九八十一呢？

＊＊＊

纽约就在一个半小时之外，new haven有每小时一班的直达；我拿了四年奖学金，欠了一身人情债，衣食无忧地学习了最自由的思维。——比我快十二个钟头的那一片大陆上，先知先觉的好多人回头看一头雾水却一脸微笑的我，叹我身在福中不知福，劝我当个猴王，水帘洞花果山温饱无惧、饮食无忧。然而十二个钟头滞后的我，却也才开始明白唐僧背向长安的勇气——这世界不光有时差，还有这许多他人的梦想与自己的梦想的落差，象那九九八十一难险山恶水的峰巅谷底。

如果说梦想需要寻找，这落差的真实已是无法避免，一旦上路，便劈面而来，容不得喘息。深深浅浅，沟沟壑壑，又好似一番纵横新犁的田野，还未平整，而别人已经在这田野里播种这样那样的梦想，有的，因为土壤的性格质地已然生根发芽，有的还似乎花叶茂盛。人们感叹这田野的生机，只有犁田的我晓得那些茁壮的花叶都还不尽然是我的茁壮，那些喧嚣的色彩都还不尽然是我的色彩。我还在翻着土，观察咀嚼着那些先前天然或人造的深浅沟壑，看别人梦想的花朵争奇斗艳。我搜集着我最中意的种子，想——如果是种子，就一定会发芽吗？就会真的开出一朵最奇异的花，结出最灿烂的果子吗？我在犁田无语的时候，记忆和幻觉从过往和未来的时空缠夹不清地涌现，演出一场精彩默剧，以最含蓄的夸张博我一笑、一颦、一个闪念、一声叹息。我看到了一个儿时的故事，一个孩子、种子、和花朵的故事；一个等待梦想开花的故事；一个等待一旦梦想开花便去攀比这个梦想的故事；一个——出人意料的故事，一个梦想没有发芽的故事，一个梦想超脱了一颗煮熟的种子却得到意外嘉奖的故事⋯⋯

"Know this:
Surprise alone
Defines this time
Of more than growth:
Of distillation
Ripeness
Enjoyment
Of being
On the vine."
--from a poem I recently read by Alice Walker
  in her new book We Are the Ones We Have Been Waiting For

"On 10 December 1868, the first traffic lights were installed outside the British House of Parliament in London, by the railway engineer J.P. Knight. They resembled railway signals of the time, with semaphore arms and red and green gas lamps for night use. The gas lantern was turned with a lever at its base so that the appropriate light faced traffic. Unfortunately, it exploded on 2 January 1869, injuring the policemen who was operating it."

--from Wikipedia, 10 December, 2006

And..I am a dork. =)

Four hours after I posted the above, the IHT headline reads: "Pinochet, dictator who ruled Chile dies".

一条蛇要去冬眠去了。她梳妆打扮了一番，还在家里开了一个鸡尾酒会，邀请了所有的蛇朋蛇友们，庆祝又一次崭新的、最令其他动物羡慕的低能耗、高回报的避寒活动的开始——它们饮尽金杯，酒不醉蛇蛇已醉，谈论着最佳的选址、最舒适的床具和被这小别烹制得格外浓稠的友谊。“春天再见！”它们依依不舍。我们酒会上最忙碌也最耀眼的女主人在送走了最后一个客人之后，也不卸妆了，只补了补最得意的眼影，便慵懒地开始坠入梦乡了——这个看似蛰伏不动的季节里，即便是在最密不透光的泥里，她，也和许多其他的朋友一样，高高兴兴、漂漂亮亮地开始做一个、也许是千百个五颜六色、精彩非常的梦。“既然做梦，就要做美丽的梦，就要美丽着，去做梦。”

"Some think that the world is either sick or dying, but according to my judgement, the world is not sick or dying. It is--pregnant..." I would never have such brilliance, and the person who uttered those words is Shimon Peres (佩雷斯), the former Prime Minister of Israel and the 1994 Nobel Peace Prize winner. I went to listen to him in Woolsey Hall today after having my bag checked through security, of course.

Standing at the podium of Yale, he did not have a script. He does not need one--I tried to imagine how many people he had spoken to, from peasants to UN officials, from heads of nations to militias. At the age of 83, the world is in his head. He sees it with ease and an internal optimism--or else, how could he come to see this 'mess' a 'pregnancy'--a painful process that has the potential to deliver a perfect new life? Making peace is about stop fighting about the past that is impossible to return to. That's why he believes economic progress over war, competition over aggression, and private forces over government. He talked about investing in the future, in potential, instead of on land or the alike--they are symbols of an age that has long passed. He spoke on terror--not seeing it as a major issue that would dictate the course of future, because "it is a protest, not a message."

He spoke slowly and clearly, concise and powerful. I imagined the world quiet down.
The vision about future is not entirely abstract because it is based on trust--trust in agencies and institutions.

I liked his analogy, about the painful pregnancy--there might be accidents still, but that's part of the deal--for a lack of better phrasing.
So, who knows?
It reminded me of a line in Le Petit Prince: "Voice mon secret. Il est très simple: on ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur, l'essentiel est invisible par les yeux." The secret lies in the invisible future.

其实已经时隔两个礼拜了。十月末的忙乎和关于岭南历史现代的短期速成至少可以让我以实习生的身份参加每年两次的董事会了－－去看看而已，做‘场记’，脑海中浮现的是什么知名导演当年以场记身份入行的‘事迹’。当然，好奇心多过事业心，于是星期四同我老板－－岭南的执行总裁Leslie一起搭一个半钟头的火车往纽约去了。

当天下午，在入住的酒店就开始陆陆续续地碰到各位起先只在文件资料上读到的董事及其家眷。一小队人马，在纽约高楼大厦的阴影和金属的反光中通过惊弓之鸟的纽约的层层安检终于得以安然抵达这个前奏会议的所在地－－Luce Foundation。四十几层的楼高，俯瞰曼哈顿中城midtown‘老牌资本主义’林立的大楼和川流的车辆。来不及晕眩或者喘气，会议马上开始。一年两次，好多董事成员也才从全美各地甚至海外飞来一聚，难得一面，不免亲切寒暄，熟一点的还不忘调侃调侃。十五位董事，这个下午会议的桌边就坐了十位，大事小事，其实这个会议是真正为明天铺平道路的重要一环，让我想起含金量非常却行事低调的正式彩排。

大多银发，其中儒雅的华人建筑师LYC让我遥想书中电影里怀旧的徐志摩－－圆框眼镜，一丝不苟的头发，清瘦。斯文的西装领带，讲话是平稳的声音，虽然全都是美籍华人如假包换的新英格兰口音，然而听起来的却都是条分缕析，理性的诗意——Leslie跟我说过，C先生建筑师的艺术家派头从这中国可能都找不到了的传统的外表上看不出来，但是那丰富的创造性都在他的头脑之中言语之间－－Leslie说可能他是最理想主义的一个。

精灵古怪的也有，从热带的圣地亚哥飞过来的卢先生就是老顽童一个。一生见多识广，通晓百科，小小的个子，扁扁的嘴巴，慢条斯理的时候声音也是中气十足，看得出顽童式的豁达，但也隐隐听得到一个坚定认真、有时可能会书生到近乎偏执的声音。他嚷嚷着来东部一趟就好像是到了‘外国’迅速地被东海岸居多的董事会成员引成一个贯穿会议的小小笑料。

当然加州代表虽然少数但也还有两个，从堪萨斯过来的张先生就更是一个地理特例了。连Thomas Friedman都不止一次地：“We are not in Kansas any more.” 高大的张先生就只能温和地笑笑，自我解嘲地耸耸肩了。不过据说他是一位很厉害的外科医生，在他所在的城市有一家诊所就以他的名字命名。他气色很好，含笑的和善，并不咄咄逼人的沉着的理性。

卢先生星期五会议休息的时候问我有什么感想。他从圣地亚哥飞过来这个周末，匆匆一行，乐此不疲。记得他面对一面玻璃窗外的立体空间的繁忙对我感叹这种董事会运作的特别：“你想想，一年两次，大家从大老远的四面相聚，决策这个基金会的重大发展事项。大家都来自各行各业，更不用说地理、年龄等等的差别，然而可以如此积极有效的一起保持一个组织的良好运作，这样的方式，我想你在中国是没有见到过的吧。”