I have always had a fondness for trains since I was a child. Beijing Railway Station, a Soviet-style landmark constructed in 1959, was a prominent sight near my apartment. The station was visible from our balcony, and the sight of the elegant twin clock towers against the blue sky was mesmerizing. Every morning, on my way to school, I would cross a stretch of railway tracks near the school gate. The arrival of a train in the late afternoon was always a welcome sight for us kids.
Whether it was a freight train loaded with lumber or coal or a passenger train with just the driver and conductors, we were fascinated by the trains passing by. We would rush towards the tracks at the sound of the warning siren, and I was always among the few who would try to climb onto the moving train. Climbing on the train and feeling the thrill of motion and speed was an exhilarating experience for me.
When I was ten, my brother Jianming and I took our first train trip. This trip marked a significant change in our lives as our father had been sent to a camp in rural Henan, and our mother was working at a light bulb factory. Uncle Guan’s proposal to take us to spend the summer with him and Aunt Dongsheng in Heilongjiang was a thrilling opportunity for us.
The journey to Heilongjiang was long and fascinating, giving us a glimpse of a different life in a new place. The memories of that summer, from swimming in the Tender River to playing games with our cousins, remain vivid in my mind. However, it was during this trip that I began to unravel the mysterious past of my grandfather.
Grandpa’s life in France, his education, his marriage, and the heartbreaking separation from his French wife and daughter revealed a complex and tragic story. Despite his return to China and a successful career as a teacher and engineer, he grappled with the challenges of guanxi in a society where social connections were crucial.
Reflecting on my grandfather’s life, I realized that beneath the facade of a happy family man and a dedicated teacher lay a man haunted by a past of lost love and difficult choices. His passion for photography, baking, and Western culture hinted at a deeper longing for the life he left behind in France. His fusion-style mantou, a blend of Chinese tradition and Western influence, symbolized his own journey of navigating between two worlds.
As I delved deeper into my family history and uncovered the untold stories of my grandfather, I came to understand the complexities of love, duty, and sacrifice that shaped his life. His silent struggles, hidden desires, and unspoken regrets revealed a man caught between tradition and modernity, between loyalty to his family and the pursuit of his own dreams.
In the end, my grandfather’s story serves as a poignant reminder of the enduring power of love, the weight of family expectations, and the untold sacrifices made in the name of duty. His journey, like a train hurtling through life’s twists and turns, carries with it the echoes of a past that continues to shape the present. And as I look back on his life, I am reminded that behind every smile, every gesture, and every moment lies a story waiting to be told.
