My Mother Coming to See Me母亲来看我

沙博理 任东升 焦琳

To add to the excitement2， a few months after I obtained Chinese citizenship my mother came to visit us. We had been talking about getting together for years. I might have gone to New York when I was still a US citizen， but my American passport had long since expired， and what with the atmosphere of implacable hostility to China prevailing in Washington， I wasnt sure I could get another one and be able to return to China. Besides， my mother wanted to see my wife and daughter， see how we lived， see this place3 which had so enchanted her darling boy that he was willing to forgo the joys of Brooklyn.

She was over 70 when she boarded a Northwest Airlines plane at Kennedy airport， a brave venture for a lady who used to get seasick on the Staten Island4 ferry and had never been on a plane in her life. During our summer family tours when I was a child she was accustomed to giving invaluable admonitions from the back seat to my father as he drove the Buick through New England mountains. On the plane， after a first uneasy half-hour， she had no choice but to relax and let the pilot drive the plane himself. To her surprise， they reached Anchorage in one piece. By the time they arrived in Tokyo she was such a veteran traveler that she didnt trouble to stay over and rest a few hours but took the next available shuttle to Hong Kong. There， a China Travel Service man met her and took charge. The next day he delivered her to the border at Shenzhen， where Phoenix and I were waiting.

I recognized her immediately as she walked across the short iron bridge linking Chinese Mainland and Hong Kong. Older， but not much grayer5， and the same ramrod-straight back. She stared at me， then threw herself into my arms. Later she told me she thought for a moment I was her brother Jerry. I looked more like him than the much younger impression she had retained of me in her memory.

She and Phoenix were promptly enamored of each other. The exchange of letters over the years had made them somewhat acquainted， but both were very pleased with what they found in person. The normal courtesy and solicitude of the Chinese toward older people was， in Phoenixs case， underscored by a strong warmth and affection that went straight to Moms heart.

We rode back to Guangzhou （Canton） on the comfortable air-conditioned train which plies between that city and border， and drank fragrant tea. Mom， like all in-coming travelers， was struck by the contrast with what she had seen in Hong Kong. “Its so clean here，” she said. “And theyre so bright and fresh and darling，” she added， indicating the pretty girl attendants pouring tea and handing out scented washcloths.

She liked our hotel， too—a huge sprawling affair surrounded by lawns and palm trees and lush tropical flowers. Everything was new， everything was interesting6—and very different from what she had been led to believe. But her main interest was me and mine7. So we strolled around a bit and the next day took the train for Beijing.

Yamei and her grandmother were mutually delighted the moment they met. They could hardly speak a word at first， but they soon picked up enough in each others language to enable them， adding gestures and drawings， to engage in long conversations. Both of Phoenixs parents were dead， and Yamei keenly felt the lack of a grandmother. In her schoolmates families the grandma often outdid even the grandpa in pampering the children. Coming from a similar tradition herself， Mom certainly didnt let Yamei down.

We gave Mom our room and borrowed a daybed for ourselves. She found our meals quite palatable， asking only for bread instead of rice. She spent hours in the kitchen with our housekeeper， who had not had the benefits of even a few weeks of “the English of southern England” which Yamei was then absorbing in her first year of junior high. Nevertheless， the ladies managed a fruitful exchange of recipes， beef in oyster sauce heading for Flatbush， and potato pancakes with onion grated in pacing into Chinese culinary lore8.

Mom brought me up to date on the births and marriages and deaths among relatives and friends in the States， briefed me on the rise in prices and crime and the drop in moral standards. We did our best to explain what we could about China. But mainly we let Mom see for herself—in the stores， on the streets， in the residential lanes.

Our friends and colleagues—Chinese and foreign—were marvelous. Both Phoenixs office and mine gave dinners in Moms honor. Chinese friends were constantly calling， presenting her with little gifts， showing her around. We were overwhelmed by their kindness. Mom had a whale of a good time.

A few things took a little getting used to， on both sides. Fresh from the land of the youth cult， she bridled a bit at their frequent reference to her “great age.” We had to explain that this was said admiringly， that the term “vener-able” was a mark of respect. Mom finally accepted this， though only， Im afraid， reluctantly.

To our Chinese friends， she was something of a phenomenon9. Red—one of her favorite colors—was worn in China mostly by young brides. They were puzzled， too， by smartly cut dresses， lipstick and permed hair10 on a woman of 70. But they liked her honest modesty， her courage， her independent spirit. When they learned that she was a widow and had been working for a living until only recently， they paid the highest accolade in urging me， her son， to “learn to be like her.”

We had been separated for 16 years. Mom confessed that she had frequently worried about me， wondering， in spite of my letters， whether I was “really” alright. Now she had come and seen that I was very much alright indeed， that my life and family were everything I had said they were.

But you couldnt deprive a mother and grandmother of her “worries.”11 Having disposed of the Chinese branch of the family， she was able to concentrate her full attention on the American side. Could she be positive that they were getting along without her？ There was no way to reassure her. After nine weeks in Beijing she was burning12 to get back to New York.

The border again， everyone being very tight-lipped until， half-way across the iron bridge， Mom turned and waved. Then I couldnt see her for my tears. Was this13 the last time we would meet？ Very possibly.

我拿到中國国籍几个月后，母亲要来看望我们了，这真是喜上加喜。我们商量团圆的事有好几年了。还是美国公民那会儿，我本来可以回趟纽约的，可我的美国护照早已过期，加上当时美国对中国怀有深刻的敌意，我不确定一旦回去还能否拿到新护照返回中国。再说了，母亲也想见见我的老婆孩子，看看我们过得怎么样，看看什么地方能让她的宝贝儿子如此留恋，甚至不惜放弃布鲁克林的灯红酒绿。

母亲在肯尼迪机场登上了西北航空公司的飞机，她已是70多岁的人了。对于一位坐渡轮去斯塔滕岛都晕船、一辈子没有坐过飞机的女士来说，这可真是一次勇敢的冒险。记得小时候全家一起夏游，父亲开着别克车穿越新英格兰群山，母亲习惯了坐在后座指挥，给父亲提各种宝贵“建议”。但在飞机上她可就没这种机会了，惴惴不安了半小时，也只能放松，不去干扰飞行员驾驶。能安安稳稳落地安克雷奇，她自己都觉得不可思议。等到了东京，她已经是个老练的旅客了，甚至懒得在那儿过夜休息，径直坐上了最早飞往香港的航班。到了香港，有个中国旅行社的人接待她，负责第二天把她送到深圳海关，我和凤子就在那儿等着她。

母亲踏上连着中国内地和香港那座短短的铁桥时，我一眼就认出了她。是老了些，但白发还不算多，腰板依旧挺直。她直直盯了我一会儿，然后径直扑进了我怀里。后来她才跟我讲，她当时那是愣一下，以为我是她哥哥杰瑞呢，比起她记忆中我年轻时的模样，现在我看上去更像舅舅了。

母亲和凤子一见如故。多年的书信往来，她俩多少了解彼此，等亲眼相见时两人都很欣喜。中国人对老人素来礼仪备至、关怀有加，凤子呢，更有一种强烈的温暖和爱，直达母亲内心。

我们从深圳坐上舒适的空调列车，喝着香茶回到广州。像所有入关来此的游客一样，母亲看到广州和香港两地的对比，很是吃惊：“这里可真干净。”她还夸那些给她泡茶、递芳香面巾的漂亮女乘务员：“她们那么聪明伶俐、活泼可爱。”

我们住的酒店她也很喜欢，占地广，规模大，草坪环绕，棕榈挺拔，热带花卉郁郁葱葱，样样新鲜，样样有趣，和她在美国听到的宣传截然不同。不过，她主要关心的还是我和我的一切。所以我们只稍微逛了逛，第二天就坐上了回北京的火车。

亚美和奶奶终于见上面了，祖孙俩那个开心啊。起初，她们很难说上什么话，但两人很快就学会了点儿对方的语言，加上比画和画画，也能聊上好一会儿。凤子的父母都去世了，亚美深刻地体会到祖母爱的缺失。在她同学家里，奶奶往往比爷爷更宠爱孩子，而我母亲也有同样的传统背景，她自然没有让亚美失望。

我们把卧室给母亲住，我俩自己则借了张沙发床用。母亲觉得我家的饭菜十分可口，但只要面包不吃米饭。她和保姆在厨房一待就是几个小时，可是好几个星期过后，保姆还是没学会“标准英语”，亚美当时在上初一，正在学。尽管如此，两位女士还是成功地交流了菜谱，弗拉特布什的菜谱添上了蚝油牛肉，中国的菜谱则多了洋葱土豆饼。

母亲给我讲了美国亲朋好友的近况，谁家生孩子了，谁家有人结婚了，谁家有人离世了，还谈到物价上涨、犯罪率升高和道德水平下降等情况。我们尽最大努力向她介绍了中国的情况，但主要还是让母亲去商店啊、大街啊、胡同啊亲眼看看。

朋友和同事，不管是中国的还是外国的，都很热情。凤子的单位、我的单位都设宴为母亲接风。总有中国朋友来家里看望她，送小礼物给她，带她四处逛逛。他们的好意让我们深为感动。母亲度过了一段非常开心的时光。

不过也有那么一两件事，双方都需要慢慢适应。母亲刚从崇尚年轻的国度过来，对别人经常问她“高寿”有些生气，我们就得向她解释，这么问是出于赞美，“您老”这个词代表尊敬。母亲最后接受了这样的解释，不过恐怕也只是勉勉强强。

在中国朋友看来，母亲就是一道“稀罕景儿”。红色是她顶喜欢的颜色，而在中国一般是年轻新娘才穿这个颜色。他们也很难理解，70岁的老太太还成天穿套裙、抹口红、烫头发。但大家喜欢她的实在、勇气和独立精神。当得知母亲没了老伴，直到最近还一直为生计而工作，他们都对她赞不绝口，督促我“向她看齐”。

我与母亲分别了16个年头。母亲坦言她时常担心我，尽管我给她寄了那么多信，她还是不确定我是否“真”过得好。如今她来了，看到了我确实过得很好，生活和家庭一如我信中所说。

但到底是做母亲为祖母的，你总不能连这点心都不让她操。处理完中国这边的家务事，她就能够把全部注意力放在美国那边。那边没有她能行吗？她也不敢打包票。没有什么法子能让她安心。在北京待了九个星期，她就心急火燎地要回纽约去。

又到了边境，谁都双唇紧闭默默不语，母亲行至铁桥中间，转过身来朝我挥手，我瞬间泪眼模糊，连母亲的身形也看不清。这会是我们母子最后一次相聚吗？可能真的是。

1本文选自沙博理英文自传My China： the Metamorphosis of a Country and a Man（1997）第160—164页，有删节，题目为译者所加。  2 to add to the excitement译为“喜上加喜”，灵活使用汉语四字格，生活气息浓厚。  3 this place转换为“什么地方”，衔接更为顺畅，能传达出母亲对中国强烈的好奇心，正因如此才有了这一次的中国探亲之行，解释了全文首句“母亲来看望我们”的原因，也为下文母亲“看这个地方”做了铺垫。以中文行文方式进行再写作，能在很大程度上避免词不达意、行文阻滞的问题。  4斯塔滕岛，位于纽约布鲁克林区西南的岛屿，与布鲁克林的直线距离不超过10千米。

5 older， but not much grayer是阔别16年后再次重逢时沙博理对母亲的第一印象，这种印象是沙博理内心情感的反映。这句话可以有多种处理方式，基于对语篇的理解和对沙博理心理活动的合理推测，此处选择将其转换为“是老了些，但白发还不算多”：“是”字表确认，表明沙博理在与母亲相见前已有母亲会更苍老的心理准备，是对母子分离多年的无奈;“白发还不算多”，是猜想母亲应该没有太过操劳，故自己在愧疚与感慨中仍有一丝宽慰。

6连续用“草坪环绕”“棕榈挺拔”“郁郁葱葱”“样样新鲜”“样样有趣”几个四字格，译文行文工整流畅，朗朗上口。  7将mine译为“我的一切”，涵盖的意思更广，透露出母爱之深切，令人动容。

8 culinary lore义为“烹饪的知识或學问”，Chinese culinary lore代指“我们家的菜谱”，指“我们家”的保姆学会了美国菜。

9这一词组被译为“稀罕景儿”，为的是让译文带点“京味儿”，一看就是中国朋友的语气。经此处理，母亲“精致外国老太太”的形象也就立住了。  10译文特意采用“三字格”——穿套裙、抹口红、烫头发，着意贴近中国朋友的语气。dresses、lipstick、hair等并列名词成分均被转换为动作，更能突出流程感与复杂性。

11虚词作为语篇的“缝合线”与“黏合剂”，能起到贯通语义脉络、重现语气与感情色彩的作用，往往能赋予译文灵动之气，为其增色。此处译文便添加了不少虚词来烘托情感。母亲与沙博理相隔万里之遥，骨肉分离16年，对儿孙本能的“担忧”是她表达牵挂与想念的唯一方式，面对这种含蓄的爱意，儿子又怎能忍心说出拒绝的话——“到底”“总”“连”“这点”将这种字里行间的情感明晰化，意在展现母亲的拳拳爱子之心和儿子的动容与无奈。  12 burning译为“心急火燎”，巧妙使用汉语四字格，生动地表现出人物急切的心情，又传达出一种诙谐的语气，让读者不禁莞尔。  13文章题目是“母亲来看我”，“母子相聚”也是全篇的话题，出于首尾呼应与篇末点题的考虑，译者将结尾的this具体化，处理为“相聚”，突出母子彼此的牵挂和无奈，表达一种双向的真挚情感。