|Motherly instinct: her kid can as well burn in hell as long as her princess skin is screened from the sun light|
You can watch the little bitches staggering on their high heels under the blows of Aeolus, their little parasol sticking out of their handbag or hanging from their hands, all curled up by the first gust that surprised them after they tried to open it. A bunch of ex-farmers, now working at a city building sites, look at them with a confucian air, betraying no particular emotions, wiping the sweat off their necks, all burnt and abraded by sun, friction and dust. But I'm a coarse and insolent westerner and I can't help staring and sneering at them.
"...important traditions that must be safeguarded, custom traits that tell the story and culture of a place..." those who are always afraid to offend someone else - even if only by stating the obvious - like to say.
They are traditions, alright, but do we really have to safeguard them all? It sounds like an empty expression to me, typical of those who care about the political correctness quality of the words they say, often forgetting that those poor words also have a meaning. Almost all of them must be saved, maybe. This one for example - avoiding the effects of sunlight not for health related reasons but because you might become as dark as a farmer and people might think that you are a poor countryside girl, that you don't have enough money to get an education and a boring job in some office, a black window limousine and so on and so forth - well, it's just a big pile of trash. The sooner it gets stricken off the list of the politburo-authorized-traditions the better for the country.
Hopefully it will be blown away by the legendary Suzhou's wind.
|Even the "grown-ups" now...|
|At the bus stop|
|Lost in the middle of the bridge, but with a parasol...|
Post a Comment