《大城女孩》
艾蜜莉無法告訴我，為什麼她從家鄉的師範高等專科學校畢業後，會選擇離鄉背井的生活。她說：“那是藏在心裡的一件事。我媽媽說，我不會滿足於過著快樂幸福的生活。她說我決定要吃苦。”不論如何，艾蜜莉是不可能滿足於在當地做個老師的生活的。“當老師對女孩子來說是份很好的工作，也很容易找到丈夫，因為男人都喜歡找老師當老婆。它可能會帶給我很舒適的生活。但太舒服了，我覺得那跟死了沒什麼兩樣。”
《沈入水中》
在最後的拆毀階段，城裡的商店只賣食物、飲料或衣服。你經常可見老人，他們當中，有些人離不開老家，有些人沒有孩子或親戚來幫他們搬家。仍然留在城裡的年輕人，通常想要在社區找出最後的值錢物。撿破爛的從建築物中扯出廢金屬，農民想盡辦法在即將沒入水中的土地種出最後的農作物。一排排整齊的蔬菜種在瓦礫中，就像戰區的菜園。當我抵達大昌鎮，政府正好在拆除第一排房屋，一名中年男子的房子已經被拆，而他坐在房子的木造架構裡喝白酒。那時是早上十點，他已經喝醉了，而他告訴我：“我就像掛在釘子上的東西，別人愛把我拿到哪兒，就把我拿到哪兒。”
《回到西方》
他們不愛說故事，不喜歡成為注意焦點，不太喜歡稀疏，也很少逗留在有趣的細節。這不是想要安靜的問題，事實上，大多數的中國人會不斷地談著食物、錢和天氣，直到你受不了。
我喜歡別人要求彼得張接受他們的錢。我想像彼得張是一隻孤獨的狼，一個國際性的神秘人物，而且我喜歡接他的電話。一天晚上，當我和 Leslie 從鎮上吃晚餐回來，電話響了。
“彼得張的電話，” Leslie 接電話後說：“一個女的打來的，我想她說她是國家燈泡協會的員工。”
“國家燈泡協會是什麼東西？”
“我怎麼知道？你要我掛電話嗎？”
但我決定把這通電話聽完。通話狀況不是很好，電話中的女人說，聽完協會執行副總裁韋恩拉皮耶的錄音訊息後，會有一項只有一個問題的民意調查。錄音訊息的開頭是一個憤怒的聲音，所以我心裡想：老天，這個法國佬竟然為了燈泡把自己搞得這麼激動！但是接下來我明白了，原來我們把 rifle 聽成 lightbulb。美國來福搶協會正以電話針對科羅拉多州西南部的荒野進行一項導向性民調。
拉皮耶解釋說，美國政府想要通過有史以來最嚴格的槍枝管制協定。第三世界的獨裁者正在促成這項法令，自由派的美國官員和媒體界菁英也支持這項法令。錄音訊息結束後，電話另一頭出現一個男人的聲音。
“張先生，”他說：“你對第三世界獨裁者和希拉蕊克林頓嘗試禁止美國民眾持槍有什麼看法？”
“我贊成。”
“你贊成什麼？”
“我贊成他們禁止持槍，”我說：“你必須了解，我來自一個第三世界獨裁國家，我來自中國，我不認為民眾應該享有太多自由。”
一段長久的沈默後。“嗯，”他說：“我感謝你的誠實。”
“那你意味我會說什麼？如果你打電話給任何一個姓張的人，他們都會這麼說，我們對這件事的看法一致。我們都來自中國，我們不要槍。”
“好吧，”他說：“我瞭解你的意思。”
“我們想要一個更有力的政府，就像我們的中國的政府。”
“嗯，”他說：“謝謝你的答覆。” 他非常客氣，沒有跟我爭辯，但他似乎無法結束這次電話談話 － 他顯然不是協會中那顆最明亮的燈泡，可以用光明一掃我的見解。最後，我說了再見，並掛掉電話。然後，在那晚剩餘的時間，彼得張可以休息了。
I liked it when people pleaded with Peter Chang to accept their money. I imagined him as a lone wolf, a figure of international mystery, and I enjoyed taking his calls. One evening, the phone rang just as Leslie and I were returning from dinner in town.
“It’s for Peter Chang,” Leslie said, after she answered it. “It’s a woman. I think she says she’s from the National Light Bulb Association.”
“What the hell is the National Light Bulb Association?”
“How should I know? Should I just hang up?”
But I decided to hear this one out. The connection was poor, and the woman said something about a one-question poll that would follow a recorded message from Wayne LaPierre, the executive vice-president of the association. The message began with an angry voice, and I thought, Man, this French guy seems awfully worked up about light bulbs. Then it dawned on me that we had confused the words “light bulb” with “rifle.” The N.R.A. was doing a push poll, working the wilds of southwestern Colorado by phone.
LaPierre explained that the United Nations was trying to pass the strictest gun-control treaty in history. Third World dictators were urging the law forward; it was also supported by liberal American officials and the media élite. After the message, a man got on the phone.
“Mr. Chang,” he said, “what’s your opinion about these Third World dictators and Hillary Clinton trying to ban firearms in the United States?”
“I’m in favor of it.”
“You’re in favor of what?”
“I’m in favor of them banning guns,” I said. “You have to understand, I’m from one of those Third World dictatorships. I’m from China. I don’t think people should have too much freedom.”
There was a long pause. “Well,” he said, “I appreciate your honesty.”
“What did you think I was going to say? If you call anybody named Chang, he’s going to say the same thing. We all feel the same way about this. We’re all coming from China, and we don’t want guns.”
“O.K.,” he said. “I understand what you’re saying.”
“We want a more powerful government, like we have in China.”
“Well,” he said politely, “thanks for answering.” He lingered on the line; he didn’t seem to know how to disengage himself. At last, I said goodbye and hung up, and Peter Chang took the rest of the night off.
I liked it when people pleaded with Peter Chang to accept their money. I imagined him as a lone wolf, a figure of international mystery, and I enjoyed taking his calls. One evening, the phone rang just as Leslie and I were returning from dinner in town.
“It’s for Peter Chang,” Leslie said, after she answered it. “It’s a woman. I think she says she’s from the National Light Bulb Association.”
“What the hell is the National Light Bulb Association?”
“How should I know? Should I just hang up?”
But I decided to hear this one out. The connection was poor, and the woman said something about a one-question poll that would follow a recorded message from Wayne LaPierre, the executive vice-president of the association. The message began with an angry voice, and I thought, Man, this French guy seems awfully worked up about light bulbs. Then it dawned on me that we had confused the words “light bulb” with “rifle.” The N.R.A. was doing a push poll, working the wilds of southwestern Colorado by phone.
LaPierre explained that the United Nations was trying to pass the strictest gun-control treaty in history. Third World dictators were urging the law forward; it was also supported by liberal American officials and the media élite. After the message, a man got on the phone.
“Mr. Chang,” he said, “what’s your opinion about these Third World dictators and Hillary Clinton trying to ban firearms in the United States?”
“I’m in favor of it.”
“You’re in favor of what?”
“I’m in favor of them banning guns,” I said. “You have to understand, I’m from one of those Third World dictatorships. I’m from China. I don’t think people should have too much freedom.”
There was a long pause. “Well,” he said, “I appreciate your honesty.”
“What did you think I was going to say? If you call anybody named Chang, he’s going to say the same thing. We all feel the same way about this. We’re all coming from China, and we don’t want guns.”
“O.K.,” he said. “I understand what you’re saying.”
“We want a more powerful government, like we have in China.”
“Well,” he said politely, “thanks for answering.” He lingered on the line; he didn’t seem to know how to disengage himself. At last, I said goodbye and hung up, and Peter Chang took the rest of the night off.
http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2010/04/19/go-west
《Doctor Dam》
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