Where can I find the original text written by San Mao from scratch?

Original text of "Starting from scratch"

In fact, I am the one who insists on going to the Sahara desert, not Jose.

Then I stayed for a long time, again for Jose, not for me. I have been wandering in many countries for half my life. I have lived in a highly civilized society, and I have seen and tasted enough. I'm not moved, and my lifestyle is more or less influenced by them. But for the city where I live, I have never left my heart in a fixed place.

I don't remember a year ago, I accidentally turned to a national geographic magazine, which just introduced the Sahara desert. I only watched it once, but what I can't explain is that homesickness, like memories of past lives, was inexplicably and unreservedly handed over to that strange land.

***

When I returned to Spain to settle down, my yearning for the Sahara desert was once again painful for me, because it still had 280,000 square kilometers and belonged to western countries.

This feeling is almost regarded as a joke by people I know.

I often say that I will travel to the desert, but no one takes me seriously.

Some friends who know me better interpret my longing for the desert as seeing through the world of mortals, self-exile and never coming back-these are not very correct views.

Fortunately, how others analyze me has nothing to do with me.

***

When I arranged for myself to live in the desert for a year, only one friend encouraged me besides my father. He doesn't laugh at me, stop me or drag me down. He, quietly packed his bags, went to the phosphate rock company in the desert to find something, settled down, and took good care of me when I went to Africa alone. He knows that I am a stubborn woman, and I won't change my plan.

When this man went to the desert to suffer for love, I decided to wander with him for life.

That man is now my husband Jose.

This was two years ago.

***

After Jose went to the desert, I finished all the chores and no one said goodbye. Before boarding the plane, I left a letter and rent for three Spanish girlfriends I shared. I closed the door and came out, so I closed my once familiar lifestyle and ran to the unknown desert.

***

When the plane stopped at the Ayong airport of the mobile home, I met Jose, who had been away for three months.

He is wearing a khaki shirt and long jeans, and hugging my arm is very strong, but his hands are rough. His hair and beard are covered with yellow dust. The wind blows on his face, Jiao Hong, and his lips are chapped, but his eyes seem to be hurt.

I saw that in such a short time, his appearance and facial expression changed so dramatically that my heart ached with shock.

I just realized that the life I am about to face has become a major test fact for me, and it is no longer a naive idea with romantic feelings in my ideal.

When I came out of the airport, my heart was beating fast. It's hard for me to control my inner excitement. Once I return to this land, I can't feel myself.

The Sahara desert, in my heart, is my dream lover for many years!

I looked up and there was a lonely wind sobbing on the boundless yellow sand. The sky is vast, majestic and quiet.

It was dusk at that time, and the sunset dyed the desert blood red, which was terrible. The climate near the early winter, in the mood of looking forward to the scorching sun, has become a poetic desolation.

Jose waited for me quietly, and I gave him a look.

He said, "Your desert, now you are in its arms."

I nodded and my throat choked.

"Stranger, let's go!"

Jose gave me this name many years ago, not because Camus' novels were popular at that time, but because "stranger" was a very exact name for me.

Because in this world, I never feel like a member of the crowd. Often have to run out of the track of ordinary life and do something that can't explain why.

The airport was empty, and several people who got off the plane had already left.

Jose carried my big box. I followed him with my backpack and pillowcase in one hand.

***

It's a long way from the airport to the house rented in Jose for half a month. Along the way, because my box and books were heavy, we walked slowly. Occasionally a few cars passed along the way, and we reached for a lift, but no one stopped. After walking for nearly forty minutes, we turned into a slope and came to a hard road. Only then did we see smoke and people.

Jose said to me in the wind, "Look, this is the outskirts of Ayong, and our home is just below."

Away from the road we walked, there are dozens of big tents with holes and small houses built of iron. There are some dromedaries and herds of goats in the sand.

The first time I saw these people who always wore dark blue clothes. For me, this is a fantasy of another world.

The wind brought the laughter of the little girls when they were playing.

Where there are people, there is unspeakable anger and interest.

Life, in such an isolated, backward and poor place, is thriving, and it is not struggling for survival. For desert residents, their birth, illness and death seem to be such a natural thing here. I watched the fireworks rising in Ran Ran and thought they were almost elegant.

A free life, in my interpretation, is spiritual civilization.

Finally, we walked into a long street, with scattered hollow brick square houses scattered in the sunset.

I especially saw the small rectangular arch at the end of a row of houses, and my intuition told me that it must be mine.

As expected, Jose walked to the hut. Sweating, he put the big box at the door and said, "Here we are, this is our home."

Right opposite this home, there is a big garbage dump, with a wavy Isaiah skirt in front and a vast sky in the distance.

Behind the house is a high slope, without sand, with large pieces of hard stones and hard soil. There is no one in my neighbor's house, only the continuous wind blows my hair and long skirt violently.

When Jose opened the door, I took off my heavy backpack.

A short dark corridor was exposed.

Jose picked me up from behind. He said, "Our first home, I'll take you in. From now on, you are my wife. "

This is a very plain and far-reaching combination. I have never loved him passionately, but I feel very happy and comfortable.

Jose took four big steps and the corridor was gone. I looked up and saw a square hole in the middle of the house, and the pigeon gray sky was outside the hole.

I struggled down to the ground, put down my pillowcase and hurried to see the room.

Actually, this house doesn't have to go. You can tell at a glance by standing under the big hole.

A bigger room faces the street, and I go for a walk, which is four big steps horizontally and five big steps straight.

The other room is so small that there is only a place to enter the door except a big bed, and there is a horizontal space as wide as an arm.

The kitchen is the size of four newspapers, with a dirty yellow cracked sink and a concrete platform.

The bathroom has a toilet, no water tank, a washbasin, and an amazing white bathtub. This is completely a Dada art product-if you don't actually use it, it is a sculpture.

I just want to go to the stone steps outside the kitchen and bathroom to see where it leads. Jose said, "Don't look, this is a public rooftop. Let's go up tomorrow. I also bought a ewe a few days ago, and I am breeding with the landlord. I can have fresh milk to drink in the future. "

I was surprised to hear that we had a sheep. Jose was anxious to ask my first impression of home.

I heard my voice almost artificial and answered him nervously: "OK, I like it, really, let's decorate slowly."

When I said this, I was still trying to examine all this. The ground is cement and the paste is uneven. The wall is the original dark gray of hollow brick, and there is no lime on it. The dry cement at the joint of the brick is exposed there.

Looking up, the bare hanging bulb is very small, and the wires are full of flies. There is a gap above the left corner of the wall, and the wind keeps pouring in. Turn on the tap, and a few drops of thick green liquid flow out, but there is not a drop of water. I looked at the roof that seemed to be falling down and asked Jose, "What's the monthly rent here?"

"Ten thousand, water and electricity are not included." (about seven thousand Taiwan dollars)

"Is water expensive?"

"A petrol tank is filled with 90 yuan, and I will apply to the municipal government for water supply tomorrow." I sat on the big box and kept silent.

"Well, now let's go to town to buy a refrigerator and some vegetables, and the people's livelihood problem should be solved soon."

I quickly opened the pillowcase and went out with him again.

There are crowds, sand, cemeteries and gas stations along the way, and the lights in the town can only be seen when it is getting dark.

"This is the bank, that is the municipal government, the court is on the right, the post office is below the court, and there are several shops. The main office of our company is in the front row, the hotel is green and the outside of the cinema is painted yellow. " "That row of apartments is so neat, who lives there? Look, there are trees and a swimming pool in that big white house-is the building where I hear the music from the white gauze curtain also a restaurant? "

"The apartment is the dormitory of senior staff, the White House is the home of the governor, and of course there is a garden. The music you hear is the officers' club-"

"Oh, it's a Muslim palace castle, Jose, look-""It's a national hotel, four-star, for government dignitaries to stay in, not a palace."

"Where do Saharans live? I saw a lot. "

"They live in the town, outside the town, and the area where we live is called the tomb area. Call a taxi in the future, just say it. "

"Is there a taxi?"

"Yes, it's all Pengchi. Find another seat after shopping. "

In the same grocery store, we bought a small refrigerator, a frozen chicken, a gas stove and a blanket.

"I haven't done these things before. I dare not buy first. You don't like them. Now choose for yourself. " Jose explained humbly.

What can I choose? This shop only has a small refrigerator, and the gas stoves are all the same. I have no interest in thinking about the gloomy home I just rented. When paying, I opened the pillowcase and said, "We are not married yet, so I will pay a little."

This is an old habit when I used to be friends with Jose. We used to spend money together.

Jose doesn't know what I have been holding in my hand. He gave him a look, stunned. He held the pillowcase to his chest, reached for his pocket and paid off the money in the shop.

Outside, he asked me softly, "Where did you get so much money?" How to put it in the pillowcase without telling? "

"I brought everything my father gave me."

Jose sullenly silent, I looked at him in the wind.

"I think-I think you can't get used to living in the desert for a long time. When your trip is over, I will resign and go together! "

"Why? What did I complain about? Why did you resign? " Jose patted the pillowcase and smiled patiently at me.

"You come to the Sahara is a seemingly stubborn and romantic thing, and you will soon get bored. With so much money, you won't want to live like others. "

"The money is not mine, but my father's. I don't need it. "

"Well, we'll deposit it in the bank tomorrow morning, and you-at least you'll live on my salary in the future."

I was almost angry when I heard what he said. I've known each other for so many years, and I've been wandering in so many countries alone. In the end, I'm still a vain woman, and I have no weight in his eyes. I tried to fight him back, but I didn't speak. My potential and future life will prove this for me. It's no use talking now.

On the first night of that Friday, I really took a Pontiac bridge car and returned to my home in the cemetery area.

On the first night in the desert, I curled up in my sleeping bag, and Jose was wrapped in a thin blanket. At a temperature close to zero, we only spread a tent canvas on the concrete floor and froze until dawn.

On Saturday morning, we went to the town court to apply for marriage and bought an unreasonable mattress in Zhang Gui. Bedframe is no longer a dream.

When Jose applied for water supply in the municipal government, I went to buy five rough straw mats, a pot, four plates and two pairs of knives and forks for the Sahrawis. We have eleven ready-made ones together, which can be used as kitchen knives, so we won't buy them anymore. I bought a bucket, broom, brush, clothes peg, soap, oil, rice, sweet and sour.

Things are so expensive that I dare not buy any more with the stack of money Jose gave me.

Father's money has been kept in the time deposit account of the central bank, and it will take half a year to use it. The interest rate is 0.46.

When I came home at noon, I just visited the landlord's family. He is a very generous Sahrawi, and at least his first impression is good.

We lent him half a bucket of water, and Jose cleaned up the dirty things in the big bucket on the rooftop. I cooked the rice first, poured it out, and then cooked half a chicken in the same pot.

When sitting on a straw mat for dinner, Jose said, "Did you spill salt on the rice?" "No, it was made of water borrowed by the landlord."

Only then did we remember that Ayong's water is salt water drawn from deep wells, not fresh water.

Jose usually eats in the company and naturally doesn't think about it.

Although we bought some things in that house, all we could see was the mat covered on the ground. We were cleaning all weekend, and in the hole in the skylight, creaking Saharan children began to poke around.

***

On Sunday night, Jose will leave home for the phosphate rock construction site. I asked him if he would come tomorrow afternoon. He said he would. The place where he works is 100 km from the house we rented.

That family only has a male host on weekends. On weekdays, Jose comes back from work. It was late at night, and then he went back to the dormitory by bus. I go to town alone during the day, and when it's not hot in the afternoon, Sahrawi neighbors will come.

Marriage documents are slow. Introduced by the retired commander of the foreign legion, I often follow the big trucks selling water to the nearby Fiona Fang desert hundreds of miles away. At night, I set up my own tent and slept near the nomadic people. No one dared to touch me because of the care of the commander of the legion. I always bring sugar, nylon turtle thread, medicine and cigarettes to those residents who have nothing.

Only when I went deep into the desert and watched the beautiful scenery of flocks of wild antelopes flying at sunrise and sunset did my heart forget the boredom and hardship of real life. In this way, I spent two months traveling abroad alone.

When the marriage was announced in our original Madrid District Court, I knew I was really going to settle down.

Home suddenly became an inseparable place.

Our goat, every time I catch it to milk, it will jump up and push me into the corner. I buy a lot of grass and wheat for it every day, but the landlord is still not happy that we borrow his sheepfold.

Sometimes, when I go a little late, the goat's milk has been squeezed out by the landlord's wife. I want to take good care of this sheep, but it refuses to recognize me or Jose. As a result, we gave it to the landlord and stopped demanding it.

***

During the period before marriage, in order to make more money, Jose worked the night shift. He works day and night, so we can't see each other often. Home, without him, I did a lot of heavy things by myself.

Besides the Sahrawis, there is a Spanish family living nearby. This lady is a strong woman from canali.

Every time she goes to buy fresh water, she always asks me to go with her.

When I walk, the water tank is empty, so of course I can keep up with her.

I let her go first every time I buy ten liters of fresh water.

"You are so useless? Never mentioned water in my life? " She laughed at me loudly.

"I-this is heavy, you go first-don't wait for me."

Under the scorching sun, I walked four or five steps with the handle of the water tank in my hand, then stopped, took a deep breath, walked more than ten steps, stopped and walked again, sweating with pain, my spine trembled, my face was red, and my feet were weak, but my home was still a distant little black spot, and it seemed that I would never leave.

When I came home with water, I immediately lay flat on the mat so that my spine wouldn't hurt so much.

Sometimes when I run out of gas, I don't have the strength to drag an empty bucket to town to change it. I'm too lazy to go to town for a taxi.

So, I often borrow my neighbor's tin charcoal stove and squat outside the door to fan the fire. The smoke makes my tears flow.

At such times, I am always glad that my mother has no clairvoyance, otherwise, her beautiful cheeks will be soaked for her favorite daughter-my daughter was raised like the apple of her eye in our hands! She will cry so weakly.

I am not discouraged. People, all kinds of life experiences are always valuable.

***

Before marriage, if Jose is working overtime, I will sit on the mat and listen to the crying wind blowing outside the window.

There are no books, newspapers, televisions and radios at home. Eat and sit on the floor, sleep in different rooms and then lie on the mattress on the ground.

This wall is hot at noon and cold at night. Electricity will come when you are lucky, and most of them are dead. When dusk came, I looked at the big hole in the square and watched the gray sand spread quietly like powder.

As night falls, I light a white candle and watch its tears drop into what image.

In this family, there are no drawers and wardrobes. Our clothes are in boxes, shoes and odds and ends are in big cartons, so we need to find a board to write on our knees. The cold gray-black wall makes people feel chilly at night.

Sometimes Jose catches the night bus back to the construction site, and when I wait for him to take Gatta with him, there is no reason to cry. I rushed to the rooftop to see him, and when I saw his figure, I rushed down to chase him.

Out of breath, I ran to him and panted down to follow him.

"Will you stay? Please, there is no electricity today, I am very lonely. " I put my hand in my pocket and begged him to keep out the wind.

Jose is always sad. If I chase him after he leaves, his eyes will turn red.

"San Mao, the early shift of my generation will arrive at six tomorrow. Stay. How can we walk so far in the early morning? And I don't have a morning pass. "

"Don't earn more, our bank has money and it's not hard." "Please borrow money from our father's bank to buy a small house in the future. I will earn you more living expenses, be patient, and I won't work overtime after marriage. " "Will you come tomorrow?"

"Be sure to come this afternoon. Go to the hardware and building materials store in the morning and ask the price of wood. I can make you a table when I get back from work. "

He gave me a big hug and then pushed me home. I ran back slowly, and Jose waved to me under the distant starry sky.

Sometimes colleagues with family members in Jose will call me in the car at night. "San Mao, come to our house to eat and watch TV, and we'll send you back. Don't be bored alone. "

I know there is pity in their kindness, so I proudly refused. At that time, I was like a wounded beast. Every little thing would offend me and even make me cry weakly.

The Sahara desert is so beautiful, but life here needs great perseverance to adapt itself!

I don't hate desert, I just suffered a little setback in the process of getting used to it.

The next day, I took the list written by Jose in advance and went to a big material store in town to ask about the price.

I waited for a long time before it was my turn, and the people in the shop counted left and right before telling me that I needed more than 25 thousand yuan, and the wood was not available yet.

I thank them for coming out and want to go to the post office to check the mailbox. It is estimated that the money for making furniture is not enough to buy a few boards.

Walking through the square outside the store, I suddenly saw a lot of long wooden boxes filled with goods in the store, all of which were huge wooden strips nailed with iron sheets, as if no one wanted them.

I ran back to the store and asked them, "Can you give me your empty wooden box outside?"

With these words, my face turned red. I've never asked anyone to give me some boards in my life.

The boss said kindly, "Yes, yes, you can take as much as you want." I said, "I want five. Is it too much? "

The boss asked me, "How many people are there in your family?"

I answered him and thought his question was beside the point.

With the consent of my boss, I immediately went to the square where the Sahrawi people gathered to call two donkey carts and put five empty wooden boxes in it.

At the same time, I remembered the tools I wanted to add, so I bought a saw, a hammer, a soft ruler, two pounds of nails of different sizes, pulleys, hemp rope and thick sandpaper.

I followed the donkey cart all the way, almost whistling. I've changed. I am the same as Jose before. After living in the desert for three months, the old me disappeared unconsciously. I can't believe I'm so happy for a few empty wooden boxes.

When I got home, the box couldn't squeeze into the door. I don't trust to put it outside the door, for fear that my neighbor will pick up my baby.

All that day, I opened the door every five minutes to see if the wooden box was still there. I was so nervous until dusk that I saw Jose's figure appear on the horizon.

I rushed to the roof, waving our flag. He understood and ran away at once.

Running to the door, he saw the big wooden box blocking the window, opened his eyes wide and hurried up to touch it.

"Where is the good wood?"

I rode on the low wall of the rooftop and said to him, "I got it." It's not dark yet. Let's make a pulley and hang them quickly. "

That night, we ate four boiled eggs, braved the biting wind to make pulleys, dragged the wooden box to the rooftop, unpacked the wrapped iron bars and smashed the wooden box hard. Jose's hand is bleeding. I held the big box and helped him separate the thick plates piece by piece with my feet against the wall.

"I want to know why we have to make furniture and why we can't sit on the mat all our lives like Saharans."

"Because we are not them."

"Why can't I accept it? Let me ask you. " I didn't think of this question until I held three pieces of wood.

"Why don't they eat pork?" Jose smiled.

"That is a religious issue, not a lifestyle issue."

"Why don't you like camel meat? Can't Christianity eat camels? " "In my religion, camels are used for threading needles, not for other purposes." "So we still need furniture to live a life without sadness."

This is a bad explanation, but I am ashamed of the fact that I want furniture.

Jose couldn't come the next day. During that time, we used up his salary, and he worked overtime desperately to make the future more stable.

On the third day, Jose still couldn't come, and my colleague drove to inform me.

The roof was covered with thick planks two people high. One morning when I went to town, when I came back, the stake had become one and a half people high, and the others were taken by neighbors to press the sheepfold.

I can't sit on the roof and watch all the time, so I have to go to the garbage dump opposite to pick up some empty cans and make holes to hang them on the stakes. If someone steals a treasure, it will ring so that I can catch it.

I was cheated by the strong wind for more than a dozen times. When the wind blows, the jar will ring.

***

That afternoon, I was sorting out several boxes of books shipped by sea and came across some photos of myself.

One, wearing a long skirt, fur coat, combed hair and long earrings, is listening to The Clown of Berlin Opera House. The other is a winter night in Madrid, singing, dancing and drinking red wine with a large group of sluts in a small hotel in the old city. I am beautiful in the photo, with long hair and a smile on my shoulders.

I looked at the past one by one, leaving a big pile of photos and falling to the ground in vain. That pair of feelings is as helpless as a dead body and soul being taken to the homesickness platform to see his relatives.

I can't turn back. The empty jar on the roof is calling me again. I want to protect my slats. Nothing is more important than my wooden box at this time.