《老郝头儿祭》--叶念伦
  2007-10-3 14:33:39  dujianhua  点击:1371
 

说明:

本文的作者为原外附初三西班牙语班学生叶念伦,其中文最初曾以“叛逃者祭”的标题收入中国友谊出版社出版的“旅外文丛”中作者写的《瞬息年华》中短篇集;其英文曾发表于英国的百年老杂志“London Magazine”

此次作者特为“外附文集”第二集,把本文中英文的内容重新做了审核与修改,以作为一篇体现外附人试用中英文写就的作者那代人“洋插队”生活片段的真实记录。

其英文不是简单的翻译,而也是不受中文约束的创作,为作者力求体现中英两种文学体裁行文的不同习惯表达方式,而又不失其本质内容和风格的一篇习作。现特献丑于此,供外附校友们对照笑阅指正。

  

In Memory of Old Hao

by Nien Lun Yeh

 

     “嘿,你知道吗,老郝头儿最近死了。” 在同从北京来的自费留学生小石聊天时他告诉了我这个消息。

       “By the way, did you know about Old Hao? He died recently.” I was chattering with Shiao Shi, a self-financing student from China, when he told me the news.

      “唷,是吗? 怎么死的?”

“Not really? How did he die?”

 “在炒菜时,心脏病突发,倒在锅台上就没醒过来。 别说,老郝头儿这一死,还挺有点儿叫人怀念的呢。”小石的话在我心里也有所共鸣。

  “Heart failure. It came on when when he was cooking. He fell into the kitchen sink and never came round. To tell the truth, we’ve all been rather saddened by his death.” His words found something of an echo in my heart, too.

 我到这个西方国家的首都不久,就从许多来自中国大陆的自费留学生的口中,听说过这个老郝头儿,他们大都在他开的那家“好味居”里打过工。

   It was not long after my first arrival in London that I first heard of Old Hao, as he was known to students from mainland China, so many of whom had worked in his restaurant, Hao Wei Ju.

 这位老郝头,学名郝寿福,山西人,据说原是北京有名的“晋阳饭庄”的特级厨师。后来来到这个国家,在京城里先后开了几家中餐馆。凭着自己的勤快和精湛的烹调技术,生意发得还不赖。后来老了,做不了太多了,便把其他餐馆给了几个儿子,只给自己留下了这家,位于从北方来的铁路和首都地铁交汇的国王十字车站对面的“好味居”。后来更老了,除了有亲友们来吃饭的场合,他很少亲自掌勺,不过整天仍在餐馆里走来走去,晚上就睡在餐馆地下室通往仓库必经的一个单人扳子床上。

  His full name was Hao Shou Fu, Shou Fu means “long life and happiness”, and he came from Shanxi Province. He had, I was told, been a Gordon Bleu Chef at the famous Shanxi Restaurant in Beijing. Later, he came to this country and opened a number of restaurants in the capital. Hard work combined with his superlative culinary skills ensured that business went quite smoothly. As he grew older and could work less, he handed all his restaurants over to his sons, leaving for himself only one, which is opposite King’s Cross Station. Yet he would still spend most of the day walking in and out of the restaurant, and he still slept the night in a small basement room belonging to it.

 不像在这个国家里的大多数中餐馆和外卖店,都是香港人做的广东味儿,“好味居”是这个西方京城里的第一家专做北方风味儿的中餐馆儿。从中国大陆来此谋生的几个北方人,大都先在老郝头的餐馆里当过学徒,后来又都各自开了北方风味儿的中餐馆和外卖店,发展到今天已有了二十来家。在老郝头的倡议下,大家成立了个“北方菜联谊会,公推这位京城北方菜馆的鼻祖老郝头当了联谊会的会长。

 Most Chinese restaurants and takeaways in this country are run by Hong Kong people and serve Cantonese food. Hao Wei Ju was the first Chinese restaurant in London to offer a Northern cuisine. Since its establishment many Northern Chinese, who had come here to make a living, began as apprentices at Hao Wei Ju before their own Northern Chinese-style restaurants and take-aways. There are now some twenties of these in London. At Old Hao’s instigation they formed a Northern Chinese Cuisine Society and, naturally, elected him chairman.

  于是这个会也就成了本地华人中的社会团体之一,受到了中国大使馆的重视。于是老郝头逢年过节都被大使馆邀请出席招待会。于是他就成了“爱国华侨”。

  As this Society developed to become one of the popular centers of the local Chinese community, the Chinese Embassy started to take notice of it. Old Hao then became a regular guest at the Embassy on Chinese festival celebrations. He thus acquired the status of “Patriotic Overseas Chinese.”

  我来到这个国家多年,还从来没有在饭馆打过工。第一次见着郝老头儿,是应邀参加中国自费生王小燕同她的荷兰丈夫的婚礼宴席。小燕刚来到这个国家时,也在“好味居”打过工,现在终于和老外结上了婚,就要去荷兰定居。临行前在“好味居”摆了几桌,也算是向在此国共同奋斗过的同胞和朋友们告个别。

  Although I have been in this country for many years I have never worked in a restaurant. The first time I actually saw Old Hao was at a wedding banquetWang Shiao Yan was celebrating her marriage to her Dutch husband, whom we all knew as A Mao. Herself a self-financing student from China who had been worked in Hao Wei Ju, she had now finally managed to marry a foreigner and planned to settle in Holland. She was putting on this wedding banquet partly as a farewell to her Chinese and Western friends in this country.

  那天至少也有三十来人,大都是北京来的学生,几个老外中,除了我们都把他叫做“阿毛”的王小燕的丈夫外,还有她以前在这里交的男朋友马克。小燕和马克的关系,曾经可不单纯是为了取得在这个国家的国籍,而是动了真情。双方在一起同居了两年,搞得难舍难分,后来当王小燕提出要结婚时,马克打退堂鼓了。他说他在外交部工作,外交部有个规定,其工作人员不能跟共产党国家来的人结婚。他马上就要升任希腊大使馆的二秘,自称是个事业心很强的人,不想为婚姻而葬送在外交部的锦绣前程,对小燕爱莫能助,跟小燕分手时也的确大哭了一场。这事把小燕弄得几乎精神崩溃,死去活来地要自杀好几次。

  There were at least thirty of us, mostly students from Beijing. Among the few foreigners present was Mark, Shiao Yan’s ex-boyfriend. His relationship with Shiao Yan had not been merely a ploy to enable her to obtain citizenship. They had been genuinely in love and had lived together for two years. When she suggested they get married, however, he declined. He was working for the Foreign Office, which dislikes their staff to marry anyone from a communist country. He was about to be promoted to the rank of Second Secretary at the British Embassy in Greece, and was not ready to sacrifice the prospect of a splendid diplomatic career for the sake of marriage. Despites his feelings for her, there was nothing he could do. Both wept bitterly when they decided to part. Shiao Yao was almost driven to distraction and became suicidal.

 后来老郝头听说了此事,气得要命,于是就给小燕介绍了来“好味居”吃饭的常客阿毛。

  Old Hao was livid when he heard this. It was he who introduced her to A Mao, a regular customer at Hao Wei Ju.

  宴席上已经上了好多道菜,仍不见月下老人出场,后来老郝头终于喜笑颜开地端着最后一道菜头还在动的糖醋鱼出来了,鱼两旁还有黄灿灿的两大摊鱼子。他说这叫“吉庆有余,多子多福”,是他多年不做的拿手好菜,今天亲手烹来给新婚夫妇助兴。

  Courses after courses were served, but still the matchmaker did not appear. He eventually emerged, beaming as he held up the final dish: Sweet and Sour Fish flanked with Golden Roe. He said this dish symbolized ‘Abundant Celebration, Sons and Jubilant’. It was one of his specialties, though he has not prepared it for years.

  我这才第一次得见老郝头的尊容,他秃顶大圆脑袋,眯缝着两只总像睁不开似的鼓泡眼,满身满脸都给人一中油滋麻花的感觉。我想起了中国寺庙里的罗汉塑像,想起了中国农村遇上红白喜事时腮帮子鼓得圆滚滚的唢呐吹鼓手。总而言之,他是那么土,那么不起眼儿,那么不起眼儿的一个中国老头儿。

  This, then, was the first time I saw him. He had a large bald head and eyes kept so narrow they look as if they would not open. He had a generally oily appearance, and made me think of the statues of archats, “happy Buddha” in the Chinese temples, and the suona horn players who perform at marriages and funerals in the Chinese countryside. Altogether, he gave the impression of a rustic and perfectly ordinary elderly Chinaman.

          我们大家都站起来,向月下老人敬酒,并纷纷称赞他亲手做的这几道好菜。

  We all stood up to toast the match-maker and praised the excellent meal he had prepared for us.

  他笑得合不拢嘴,看着更象尊罗汉,茅台酒一杯接一杯地灌着,脸上泛起了红润。

  He grinned, making himself look even more like an archat. Knocking back Maotai, one after another, he flushed to the roots of his hair.

  大家都吃得差不多了,头也都有点晕乎乎的了。于是就唱了起来。我们唱了一支有一支当年中国大陆流行的歌曲“没有共产党就没有新中国“、”东方红”和“大海航行靠舵手”;最后又都用筷子敲打着碗盘子,故意大嚎“无产阶级文化大革命就是好,就是好!”大家都心照不宣地故意造出一种玩世不恭,歇斯底里的气氛,但也引出了某种说不清的感慨,因为大唱那些歌子的时代,毕竟是我们最宝贵的青少年时代。

  We all ate and drank more than our fill and burst into songs as the alcohol went to our heads. We sang “Without the Communist Party There Would Be No New China”, “The East Is Red” and “You Need a Helmsman to Navigate”. Then we drummed our chopsticks against our bowls and yelled at the top of our voices “Up the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution! Up the Revolution!” There was a tacit understanding that we were trying to create an atmosphere of cynical hysteria. Nevertheless, it also produced in us a certain indescribable sadness, for the era in which these songs had so widely sung was the most precious of our lives: our youth.

  不知是喝多了,还是快活得忘了形,还是出于对我们浪费和逝去了的年华的惋惜和怀念。还是对在异国的前途感到渺茫莫测,我注意到很多中国留学生都笑挤出了泪水。我还注意到那几位老外,有的瞪着眼睛莫名其妙地看着我们,有的跟着我们不自然地傻笑。

 Whether it was out of drunkenness, inordinate joy, sorrow for their wasted and lost youth or anxiety over their uncertain future in a strange land, I noticed that with all the smiles and laughter, tears came to the eyes of many of the Chinese students. I also noticed that some of the Westerners were looking on slightly baffled, while others grinned, affecting to share our mirth.

  最后有人提议老郝头儿出个节目,他有些摇晃地站起来,手里举着一个小酒盅儿,吐字不清地说:“那好吧,今天是小燕和阿毛地(的)喜庆日子,我就来个山西民歌,送给他俩吧! 这首歌就叫‘摸呀摸,我的哥’。” 

  Then somebody proposed that Old Hao give a performance. He stood up, rather unreadily, a small glass in his hand, and murmured: “Oh all right, as it’s such a special day for Shiao Yan and A Mao, for them I’ll sing a Shang Xi folk song. It’s called “Feel me, Brother Dear”:

  “阿哥呀,别不好意思,

   你摸呀摸。

   妹子我,等不急了啊,

   让你从头到脚摸个遍。

   先摸额头再摸辫儿,

   摸完辫儿摸脸蛋儿,

   别忘了妹子的嘴唇儿甜又艳,

   ……”

  “Don’t be shy, brother dear,

  Feel me,

  I can’t wait any more.

  From my head to my feet,

  Feel me,

  First my forehead, then my cheeks,

  Do not spurn my sweet red lips …”

  在山西榆次插过队的朱文化,突然大笑。我说你笑什么,他说这是解放前太原柳巷窑姐儿接嫖客时唱的歌,他和老农夜里看场院时,整夜都听他们哼这个曲儿,一席话逗得大家真情地哄堂大笑,那天晚上的宴席尽兴而散。

 Zhu Wen Hua, who had lived in rural Shanxi, burst out laughing. I asked him why. He told me that this song had been sung by prostitutes entertaining their clients in the brothels in Taiyuan, capital of Shanxi Province, in the years before the Communists started to rule China. While they were guarding the warehouses of the People’s Commune during the Cultural Revolution, the old farmers there used to sing and hum it all night long. The whole room rocked with laughter and the banquet ended in a mood of great cheer.

  我第二次跟老郝头儿打交道是在大约一年以后。我那时给一个为技术转让而来这里培训的,二十来人的中国代表团当口译。他们要在这里待两个月,接待他们的那家公司就在“好味居”附近。每日的午餐由一家包伙公司承办,送来的是这个国家典型的工作午餐。它虽然鸡鸭鱼肉都有,营养价值极高,可除了咖啡有热气儿外,其他所有的吃喝都是凉的,那股子怪味儿跟炎黄子孙们的口胃更是格格不入,不久代表团里的好几位团员就犯了胃病。可是他们特别好面子,怕给老外造成中国人太挑剔的印象,尽当着老外的面说好吃,背地里鼓动我帮他们向老外建议吃中餐。

  The second time I saw him was about a year later. I was acting as interpreter for a group of Chinese trainers over here on a two months technical transfer training course. The British host company, whose office were very near Hao Wei Ju, had contracted a catering company to supply them with a typical English working lunch, very nutritious but all cold except for the coffee. The strange-tasting food did not agree with all the palates of the descendants of the Yellow Emperor, many of whom were soon having stomach trouble. Their preoccupation with face, however, made them wary of giving their English hosts the impression that Chinese people are always criticizing and complaining. They would consistently approve the food to the faces of their English hosts, while behind their backs they were putting pressure on me to suggest to them that we eat Chinese. 

 我看他们也实在吃得难受,从老外那里探明了他们给中国代表团包伙的标准是每顿一人五镑钱,便去“好味居”问老郝头儿,按这个标准在他这里包伙干不干。

  I could see they were not really enjoying themselves. Having ascertained from the company the rate allocated, which was 5 pounds per head, I went to Han Wei Ju and asked Old Hao if this was acceptable to him.

 “行,行,行,母(没)问题,”他操着陕西腔调儿对我说,“我一定保证大家吃好喝好。”

 “Of course, no problem at all!” he said without hesitation. “I can guarantee they will be quite satisfied with my food.”

  于是我向老外提出了这个建议,那管事儿的瞪着眼睛对我说:“我们问过中国代表团这里的工作午餐行不行,他们都说吃得很好。我们跟那家包伙公司订了两个月的合同,现在半路退伙要想再返回来可是很被动。这可是你多事儿,他们若是在中餐馆吃得不舒服,你可得负责。”

  I then approached the company with the recommendation. The person concerned frowned and told me: “We did ask them if they were happy with the working lunch. They said they were. We signed a two months contract with the catering company. If we cancel it now there’ll be no going back to them. You’re making trouble for yourself. It’ll be your responsibility if they don’t like the food at Hao Wei Ju.”

 我暗自发笑,心想:“放心吧,老外,就是光吃肉丝面,也肯定比你们那冰凉的熏鱼加肉馅儿饼对他们的胃口。”

 I laughed to myself, thinking: “Don’t worry. Even if they just get noodles with chopped meat that’ll suit their taste far better than cold smoked fish and meat pies.”

  郝老头儿还真给我作脸儿,他顿顿亲自掌勺儿,让那请来的大厨在旁打下手。每顿的主食是米饭、面条、馄吞任选,外加八菜一汤,还有水果甜食。

 Old Hao certainly did not let me down. He cooked all the lunches himself, with his chef merely functioning as assistant. There was a choice of rice, noodle or wuntun dumplings, then there would be eight dishes plus a soup, followed by fresh fruit or sweet.

 他还经常在做完菜时,跑到外面来同代表团们聊上两句。

  When we had finished cooking, Old Hao would often come out and speak to his Chinese guests.

  “我说同志们,你们到了这儿就像进了家门儿,可千万别客气,想吃什么就言语(说)一声。我们在中国没见过,在这儿能见着你们,我可是真高兴!”

 “Comrades,” he would say, “please feel at home. Don’t be shy. Just tell me what you would like. Although we never knew one another in China, it is a great pleasure to meet you here.”

  他常常变换着花样儿做。他见从祖国来的这个代表团中北方人多,便每顿饭都作些面食。有好几次,我都见他脱光了膀子,光头上顶个大面团,手握两把尖刀,“噌、噌、噌”地往滚滚热水的锅里削着大面块儿,那股子娴熟劲儿地道的山西刀削面的老把式。看得中国代表团各个赞不绝口,陪同的老外目瞪口呆。

 He did his best to vary the food. Realizing that most of the trainees came from Northern China, he would always serve something with a flour base. He was a master of Shanxi Knife-chopped Noodles. I often watched him, bare-shouldered, spread a large piece of dough over his bald head and then, with a sharp knife, nimbly chop pieces one by one into the boiling pot. His dexterity drew praise from our Chinese friends and astonishment from their English hosts.

  在“好味居”包饭的那一个半月,中国代表团人人吃得心满意足,每顿吃完都有人到后面的厨房去向他连连握手道谢,临回国前还送了他一尊中国玉雕的罗汉工艺品做纪念,说那就是他本人,心宽体胖,笑逐言开,福大寿大,喜的他几天都没合上嘴。

 We are all very perfectly satisfied with one and half months of lunches at Hao Wei Ju. After each lunch a small group would always go to the kitchen to compliment the chef. Before they went back to China, they gave to Old Hal a jade figure of an arhat as a souvenir. They said it just looks like him – healthy with cheer, beaming with smiles, blessed with long life. He was so delighted that he could not stop smiling for days afterwards.

 这就是我和他仅有的两次直接交往,再就是常听其他中国的自费生说,“好味居”是初来这里的中国留学生们在餐馆里打工的“实习场”。只要是新来的中国留学生,问给“好味居”打工行不行,老郝头儿准收。在这里作活儿的都说普通话,没人说广东话。老郝头儿很解决了几位中国的自费生们刚来需要挣点儿钱的当务之急。可他还有个不成文的规矩,就是每个学生干满了三个月必须走人。老郝头儿说,干久了,这里有关的当局会查出来有外国学生在此非法打工,对他们的学习居留不利。他到了三个月便主动辞你,并尽量把你介绍给他的那些徒弟们在京城里开的其他北方馆儿。这样也就给其他后来的中国学生留下了在“好味居”轮换实习的空缺。

 These were the only two occasions on which I was dealing with Old Hao, but I often heard other students from China mention him. “Hao Wei Ju is really a training school for students who have just come from China.,” they would remark. Old Hao would take on students from China who ask him for work. He was the answer to the problem that confronts many Chinese students when they first arrive, that of earning some money to get themselves started. However, there was an unwritten regulation that they had to leave after three months. Old Hao said that if they did not go, the Home Office might find out that they were working illegally and this would adversely affect their stay in this country. Once their three months were up, he would dismiss them with an introduction to other Northern Chinese restaurants, most of which were run by his previous apprentices.

  像父亲是中国的部长的黄莉莉、在铁道文工团唱过歌的白爽、白爽跟老外结婚后又接出来的弟弟白德、姐姐白拉娜、甚至随后又出来的姐夫王宾仁,在中国当过开发公司经理的李希等物,刚来时都在“好味居”干过。他们这些人在中国哪犯的着在餐馆儿里混饭吃,可在“好味居”都得到了很好的见习,为他们日后在其他中餐馆里谋生打下了基础。

        Such people as Ms Lily Huang whose father was a Minister in China, Ms Bai Shuang, who had been a singing star in China, her younger brother Bai De, whom she helped out of China shortly after she divorced her husband and married an Englishman, her sister Bai Lana and then her brother-in-law Wang Bin-ren, and Mr Li Shi who had been General Manager of a Chinese state-owned company, all worked in Hao Wei Ju when they first arrived. They would never have had to take a job in a restaurant while they were in China, but in this country they had no choice. Their three months in Hao Wei Ju gave them a good foundation for working in other Chinese restaurant later on.

 这就是为什么我后来还听其他中国留学生提到他的死时都有些念憾之意!我问他们之中谁去参加过老郝头的葬礼,他们都说一因大家都在为生活而奔忙没工夫去,二因接受“好味居”的老郝头儿的那些儿孙们也不认识这些留学生,根本没人通知他们何时举行葬礼。唯一使大家聊以告慰的是老郝头是心脏病突发,还没觉着什么就走了,没受罪,死得舒服,算是善终,反正人总免不了一死嘛!

 This is why, when we spoke of Old Hao’s death, many Chinese students showed feelings of grief. I asked if any of them attended his funeral. They replied either that they were too busy or that his sons, who had taken-over Hao Wei Ju, did not know them so that nobody knew when and where the funeral was to be held. The only source of relief was that his death had been sudden and painless. He had died in comfort. In any case, everyone had to die one day.

 或许是他这一生太平凡,或许是我的确同他来往太少,我再也写不出有关他的什么事儿了。不过像接触过他的其他中国留学生一样,听说他死了,总觉得他还给人们留下了点儿念性。大家都没工夫,就让我这个有点儿文痞嗜好的人,写出这篇极其平淡的拙文,算是代表大家给他这个极其平淡无奇的人做个祭,以寄托我们的哀思吧。

 Whether because, his life was relatively uneventful or because I really know little about him, I can tell you no more. However, like the Chinese students, I felt sad when I heard of his death. They were too busy to write, so on their behalf I offer this simple, unexceptional tribute in memory of a simple, unexceptional man.