Last weekend my boyfriend and I went to Qinhuangdao to watch the Olympic men's football quarter final. With all the train tickets back to Beijing sold, we took a bus back.
When we were looking for our seats on the bus, a plump and macho young man who had been chatting with others in the back hurried to a front seat and sat down. We checked our tickets and found that it was ours, so I asked if he had the wrong seat.
His answer was, "we don't sit according to the numbers." And his friend in the back, also a big tall guy, echoed the same. It was irritating to find a beefy man occupying others' seat yet sounding as if he was in the right. I argued loud with the two, hoping to arouse the attention of other passengers so that some of them might intervene.
Nothing, except for some murmurs and laughs. Neither did the driver's polite advice work. The plump man turned more reassured. I was mad, and just a few minutes into the journey, I stood up and made the bus stop beside two policemen, who actually refused to intervene after my boyfriend explained the situation. We then turned to a staffer of the bus company, whose urge to the guy proved in vain too.
Finding the whole argument was actually delaying the departure, two men sitting behind gave up their seats to us - one moved to beside the plump guy, and the other sat down on an additional seat next to the driver. That was certainly not what we wanted, but we accepted it as we were finally convinced reasoning would never work.
Back in Beijing that night, I tossed and turned in bed sleeplessly, trying to think of a better way to deal with such kind of scenario in the future. Maybe I should just find another seat after I made my point; maybe that way other people would show their sympathy. But because I acted like a firm, rebellious woman, they saved it.
Yes, we are more accustomed to see a helpless weeping woman when something unfair happens to her. We are so used to ignoring our rights that we sometimes even doubt if we're doing right by defending them.
Like all other Chinese, I was taught to be humble and ignore my own interests since I was a little girl. In my textbook, there was a story about a little boy choosing to have the smallest pear and leaving the bigger ones to his brothers. We were also taught to learn from Lei Feng, a respected Communist Party member who enjoyed helping others and never thought of his own interests, and Lai Ning, a teenage who sacrificed his life when fighting a forest fire.
Those role models are less mentioned nowadays. But the virtues they represented—self-sacrifice and ignorance of one's own rights—had seeped into our marrow just as it had our parents and grandparents.
Asked if she felt sorry for not being able to perform on stage in the Olympics opening ceremony by CCTV, seven-year-old Yang Peiyi - who was replaced by the starlet Lin Miaoke miming over her singing - answered she was content to hear her own voice in the ceremony. Her father also showed understanding, saying he was proud to see his daughter being an important part of the ceremony.
Some commented that giving up their rights meant keeping away trouble. Nobody knows if the father and daughter were telling their true feelings, but surely every Chinese would and could imagine such a noble response.
So, all the indignant foreign friends, when you criticize the poor human rights in China, please remember it was not just the fault of the government and the system. The mentality of the people, ingrained with centuries of preaching for self-sacrifice and ignoring one's rights for a tranquil life, does play an important role too.
