准爸爸忆 80 后童年
In Chinese society, generations are conveniently pigeonholed according to the decade they are born into. If I tell a group of people that I belong to the Post-80s, for example, they'd immediately conjure up certain qualities generally associated with the generation. While the Post-80s generation is the counterpart of Generation Y in the West, they differ vastly, not least because of China's spectacular economic growth and tectonic social changes.
And while people in my generation share common memories, I believe we have lived different lives, and when looking back, we focus on different aspects of our childhood. For me, one word stands out to define those days: improvisation.
In my childhood memory, material prosperity was largely unheard of. Wanyuanhu, a household with over 10,000 RMB in savings, was considered the richest. Department stores were few; the range of commodities limited; consumerism not a thing. Like most families, we didn't have much to spare. We made do with whatever we had. We were pragmatists by necessity. We learned to improvise. Among the things we made were shoes, shoe soles, swords, and biscuit rolls.
My maternal grandmother made shoes by hand. Of course, it was nothing like fancy Italian or British handmade leather shoes. Just cheap, simple, practical cloth shoes. Some outsoles (shoe bottoms), cloth, and a sewing machine were all she needed. She took pleasure in crafting the shoes. My brother and I took pride in wearing them. Somehow, the fact that she made the shoes made the sense of ownership greater. We refused to let them go long after they were worn.
Also handmade were shoe soles. Most outsoles then were bare-bones and rough, so shoe soles could help cushion the feet against shocks. In an age of material scarcity, they also added a rare dash of color to a pedestrian life. They were as pleasing to the eye as comfortable to the feet. And if making a pair of cloth shoes did not show much dexterity and taste, sewing a pair of shoe soles surely could. Housewives vied to out-sew their peers.
One of my fondest childhood memories was that my brother and I would collect Jianlibao tins and eagerly wait for a hawker-cum-metalsmith to appear. By today's standards, he was a weird sort: he traveled around and set up a makeshift metalsmith station to handcraft toys for children. We would give the tins to him, pay a small sum of crafting fee, and wait cheerfully for the magic to happen as he melted down the aluminum tins and repurposed the material into a sword, a handgun, or a slingshot, at the young customer's request.
In a similar fashion, we also indulged in a mouth-watering snack—biscuit rolls. Every few weeks, a baker would show up and bring his egg roll machine. It was quite a clumsy and oily piece of equipment, but the only one available around. Like the metalsmith, he would only charge a small fee to make the snack, and my parents would provide cooking oil, flour, and eggs. The smell of the fresh egg rolls still lingers in my memory, reminding me how simple satisfaction used to be.
A short while ago, I had a conversation with my dad about my childhood memories. Surprisingly, he remarked that he regretted not having been able to give my brother and me a better childhood experience. That's foolish. Alas, it was an age marked by improvisation. I know he did his best. I would never have asked for more. I only hope I will be able to do the same for my baby girl when she comes to this world.
Does any of my experiences strike a chord? What was your fondest childhood memory?
孟庆伟 Justin
个人微 ID：justinqmeng
现象级英语联合创始人
两次获雅思写作 8 分，口语 8 分
题图：Adrian Bradshaw
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