The dogs of Beijing

Hawa Arofah

I was overjoyed to set foot in Beijing again. Uncle Koo Tek Sian had invited me to the city for his 60th birthday party. "I'll reimburse you for everything when you arrive," he told me by phone before my departure.

After staying with his family in an Indonesian-Chinese student exchange program, I was already considered his foster child.

I arrived at Uncle Koo's home at dusk. Beijing looked more developed than I remembered, with many more high-rise buildings lining its streets.

"I was getting anxious lest you weren't coming," Uncle Koo said, helping me with my luggage as I got out of the cab.

"Take a rest in the bedroom. We're dining out this evening. Aunt Lilian didn't cook today," he said as he opened the bedroom door for me.

"Where's Aunt Lilian?" I asked.

"She's showering."

"I want to wash my feet," I said, hurrying to the bathroom.

"Hi, miss, welcome!" Aunt Lilian called as she emerged from the bathroom.

I held out my hand and embraced the beautiful woman affectionately.

Aunt Lilian shook me gently by my shoulders. "You're getting even prettier."

I blushed and hurried into the bathroom.

***

It was warm in Beijing that evening. Colorful lamps decorated office buildings, roads and apartments. I passed through a busy road with my uncle and aunt to reach a restaurant serving Indonesian dishes. Uncle Koo and Aunt Lilian were fond of Indonesian food, particularly rabbit satay.

Back home from the restaurant, I excused myself and strolled along the streets of Beijing. The night was getting cooler as I walked past a large bridge, looking down at the glittering river illuminated by street lights.

I was suddenly overtaken by the urge to look under the bridge. I stepped down from a corner of the bridge, going along the descending path worn down by an army of advancing and retreating feet.

Drawn by the harsh sound of the radio, I walked over to several cardboard shanties.

As I walked closer to one of the makeshift homes, a young woman came out. She gazed at me with suspicion, her face illuminated by one of the lamps overhead.

"Good evening!" I greeted her in Chinese.

She only smiled, but gestured to me to sit in front of her home. I sat on a flat stone.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"I'm a student from Indonesia," I said, lying in a bid to win her respect and also for protection; a foreign student on a budget would not be a target for robbery like a well-heeled tourist.

"Who are you looking for?"

"I just want to wish you a happy new year."

She smiled. Then she introduced herself. "I'm Ling Tian."

"Are you married?"

"Yes, but my husband has died. I'm here only with a dog. It's inside, tied up. It can be ferocious. I want to have it put down!"

I nodded. We sat for a few moments before I asked Ling Tian to go for a walk together round Beijing.

"I'm eager to see the dark part of this city," I said.

Ling Tian smiled again. She took me to the north.

"Near Tiananmen square, you'll see lots of Beijing dogs gathering," she remarked.

"What do you mean by Beijing dogs?" I asked, curious.

"Ah, you'll see for yourself."

She was open in talking about her city but, to be frank, I couldn't be that open about the atmosphere in Jakarta.

When Ling Tian finished her tales about life in Beijing, which frequently witnessed student brawls, I remained silent. And when she asked me to tell her about Jakarta and other cities in Indonesia, I only spoke of the bright side of the country. I said Indonesia was now a great land, with numerous tall buidlings everywhere.

I also mentioned the mushrooming discotheques and entertainment centers in Jakarta, which were safe and relaxing. Indonesia, particularly Jakarta, I told her, had never seen social unrest, student or civil protests. It's always secure and enjoyable.

Ling Tian only nodded.

***

We were already close to Tiananmen square. Under a large tree, many youths in singlets and headbands were sitting with their girlfriends in the cold night air.

Now and again, they laughed and then gulped bottled drinks.

"We'd better watch from a distance. Let's just sit here," she said, pulling my arm to guide me to a sidewalk kerb.

I sighed. Images of the bloody incident that left many students dead during the famous prodemocracy protest several years ago suddenly came to me.

I remembered how thousands were driven off by armored vehicles and pushed away with bayonets by incensed soldiers.

There was the horrible image of dead bodies scattered over the plaza's wet grass, stained with fresh blood.

But that night, I saw young people roaring with laughter. They were drunk. So this is what Ling Tiang had meant by Beijing dogs, fond of snatching, robbing or flirting with girls roaming Beijing.

"Hey, are you off in your own world?!" she said as she tapped me on the arm. "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking of the young people. Why do they like wasting their evenings doing this?"

"They are frustrated young people! They're just like us. They want to work in offices but find no vacancies. They wish they could stage demos but they're afraid of being crushed like the students who came before."

I listened to her account attentively.

"Their frustration has made them wild like night dogs. They even become robbers and purse-snatchers!" Ling Tian continued in an annoyed tone.

I looked at them from my seat. A girl emerged, walking near them. The gang rose to fondle the young woman.

"Now you can see. The girl may be a new hooker. She's a victim. They'll soon take her away to a deserted place and rape her. They are true dogs!" said Ling Tian.

It made my skin crawl. And in a moment I did witness the girl being dragged on to a motorbike by one of the youths, with the others following him.

"It's a common view in the city," said Ling Tian.

"Why don't the authorities arrest them?"

"The government remains silent, to my knowledge. They are left to go wild as long as they don't take to the streets to demand democracy."

I was amazed. The term democracy was familiar to her. "Why do you mention democracy?"

"Don't be surprised. I'm an ex-student. I quit college after my boyfriend got me pregnant. Then my parents chased me away. Now I'm a nobody."

"So you've had a child? Where's your kid?"

Ling Tian promptly stooped down and began to sob.

"I'm sorry if I've offended you," I said regretfully.

"My baby is dead. I strangled it soon after birth. You know, infants are completely worthless here. This country is overpopulated. Lots of babies lose their lives after delivery," she admitted, still sobbing.

My heart swore at her. I thought she was worse than a dog. However ferocious a dog might be, it would never kill its own offspring.

"I'm now a dog myself! A lone dog living in the city, with no parents, spouse and relatives. I even had the heart to kill my own child," lamented Ling Tian.

I began to feel disgusted by her.

It was getting colder in Beijing. I felt no more need to chat with Ling Tian. I rose and walked her back to the shanty.

"Curse me. I'm lower than a dog!" cried Ling Tian as we reached the bridge again.

I remained tight-lipped. Even when I flagged down a taxi and it had stopped, I didn't say goodbye. I could not conceal my contempt for her.

Translated by Aris Prawira