When I go back to my hometown, I can no longer see them. It’s as if they had disappeared into thin air. I don’t even remember the details of their lives, nor do I really know their stories, but in my memory they were always there. Maybe it was because of the way the village was—very open, with everyone’s doors unlocked. People would spend time outside their homes, chatting, visiting each other freely. It was so natural to step into a neighbor’s house. In the evenings, after dinner, people would carry their bowls and go from one house to another, tasting dishes from different families. That is the memory of my childhood. Later, when I went away to study in the city, then to bigger cities, and eventually moved abroad to Germany, I never experienced that kind of life again. Those times feel almost ancient now, as if that way of living and that closeness between people has been sealed away. Even when I return to my hometown, I can still sense a trace of it, but the easy openness—the visiting, the doors always open—is no longer there. I realize that as certain people pass away, a whole way of life, a whole feeling, passes away with them. I miss those neighbor women deeply. They left this world quietly, without much notice. I once asked my mom, “When Sister Qiuhua passed away, did the village hold a big funeral for her? Was it solemn?” My mom said she couldn’t remember. When I think about it, there are also other women who gave me the same feeling—my grandma, my great-aunt, my maternal grandmother… Just as he was about to address the assembled guests, he lost his voice. 当他要当众说话时，他却发不出声音来。他想说话，但发现自己发不出声音，他 很着急，他刚站起来，正准备敲杯子 让 大家 安静 下来，听他说话，但他站起来， 没有 任何 人 理会 他，他们都在自 顾 自 地 说着话聊着天，没有人 注 意到他想站起来 说 什么 。他没 办法让 大家 注 意到自己，没 办法把 自己的声音和想 法传递 给大家。 他想 告诉 大家， 快 跑，很 快 这里就 会 被 吞噬 ，他很开 心 他 获 得了这个 资讯 ， 迫 不 及待地 要 告诉 大家，却没有 任何 人能听 见 他说的话。他很着急，他 比划 着，却没 人看得 懂 他想 表达什么 。 他想， 肯定 是有 什么 人动了 手脚 ，在他的 水 里放了 什么药 。我很着急，不 知道 要 怎么办 。 Just as he was about to address the assembled guests, he lost his voice. He wanted to talk, but no words came out. He grew anxious. He had just stood up, ready to tap his glass to quiet everyone down so they would listen, but when he rose to his feet, no one paid him any attention. They all went on chatting, laughing, completely ignoring him. No one noticed that he was trying to say something. He couldn’t get anyone to look at him, couldn’t get his voice—or his thoughts—across. What he desperately wanted to tell them was: Run! Soon this place will be swallowed
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