The “ten years” here refers to those happy days from 1990 to 1995.
Ten years ago, TV didn’t yet have so many crude channels, frighteningly large screens, and endless commercials; ten years ago, on the door of the computer room it still said “Computer room area, unauthorized persons keep out”; ten years ago, many people wore huge Walkmans or pagers on their waists instead of MP3 players or cell phones; ten years ago, it was still the age of cassette tapes and CDs; ten years ago, all the young girls, most of the young married women, and some middle-aged women all wrapped themselves in those frightening exercise pants and roamed through streets and alleys—completely ignoring whether their legs were long or short, thick or thin; ten years ago, qigong, dancing, mahjong, going into business, and rankings started becoming popular; ten years ago, most people still didn’t know the meaning of being laid off; ten years ago, people only dyed their hair black; ten years ago, people always shopped in big department stores and there were no little supermarkets; ten years ago, stories of all kinds of lavish spending by rich people began to spread; ten years ago, they had begun small-scale extramarital affairs but hadn’t yet moved on to keeping mistresses on a large scale; ten years ago, people began hearing about AIDS; ten years ago, people lined up to buy Chinese cabbage, laundry detergent, and sodium chloride; ten years ago, there weren’t so many hotpot restaurants, seafood centers, internet cafés, and roadside food stalls; ten years ago, the two-day weekend began; ten years ago, the streets were full of video parlors and dance halls; ten years ago, many officials still rode bicycles to work and to take their children places; ten years ago, many people cried over bidding for the Olympics; ten years ago, teenagers also began chasing stars;
Most of the people from ten years ago are still living in this world.
Ten years ago, people began pouring into the south, and Yu Zuomin rode around ostentatiously in a Mercedes 600; ten years ago, people argued endlessly over stocks, housing allocation, promotions, and children’s New Year money; ten years ago, people in Shanghai were still very depressed while Shenzhen was full of itself;
Ten years ago, we had no internet, no E-MAIL, no MP3, no QQ, no text messages, no chat rooms, no BBS, no Legend and Delta Force, no Shenzhou spacecraft; ten years ago, we didn’t know that flooding wasn’t irrigation, didn’t know that online romance wasn’t just many people falling in love, didn’t know that dinosaurs and frogs had meanings outside biology, and knew even less the deep meanings of SB, MM, and GG; ten years ago, we had libraries, movie theaters, sports fields, outings, letter-writing, reading, and hometown associations, and of course arcade machines, game cartridges, and Tetris as well;
Ten years ago there weren’t so many choices for listening to songs, but we listened to these voices: Luo Dayou’s Love Song 1990, Tong Ange’s Let Life Wait, Jacky Cheung’s Blessing, Emil Chau’s Friends, Chang Yusheng’s The Sea, BEYOND’s The Great Land, Pan Meichen’s Want to Have a Home, and also the Little Tigers’ Green Apple Paradise;
Ten years ago we watched Jackie Chan’s Police Story, Chow Yun-fat’s Mark Gor, Stephen Chow’s Fight Back to School (back then all the parody and wordplay was already there, but there weren’t yet so many seemingly profound interpretations of it). Ten years ago we also began watching imported blockbusters, including Jurassic Park, Terminator, True Lies, and The Lion King;
Ten years ago we read Jin Yong, Wang Shuo, Cai Zhizhong, and The Wanli Fifteen Years; back then Duzhe was still called Reader’s Digest, and Dushu was still edited by Dong Xiuchang; we devoutly read every issue of the former while pretending to despise it, while from the latter we learned very little yet still kept it in a conspicuous place;
Ten years ago we also fell in love, played cards, and danced;
One day ten years ago, I returned lost money and refused the reward, and because of that I met the owner—a beautiful girl from the Chinese department. I flusteredly gave her back her things as if I were the thief who had stolen them—from then on I never saw her again—though even ten years later I still occasionally think of her brilliant smile—I wonder whether little brothers ten years later, in a similar situation, would be just as foolish as I was;
Ten years ago I was twenty years old
Ten years ago I lived a puritan-like monotonous life at a second-rate university. Even ten years later, I still often dream of the time I spent spacing out in the wasteland east of that school. On one afternoon when the northwest wind howled, I walked alone through the yellow sand until I found a lonely mutton soup shop, where I enjoyed the most unforgettable delicacy of my life. Ten years later, the tiny cracks on that coarse porcelain bowl and the crumbs falling from the flatbread are still vivid before my eyes. On one scorching summer day ten years ago, I watched her leave that closed-off city and my own helpless self for a huge city in the Yangtze River Delta. On one day ten years ago, I cried like a child who had accidentally smashed a fish tank, a complete mess.
Ten years are gone for good.
For all friends who grew into maturity within these ten years.
Ten years ago, TV didn’t yet have so many crude channels, frighteningly large screens, and endless commercials; ten years ago, on the door of the computer room it still said “Computer room area, unauthorized persons keep out”; ten years ago, many people wore huge Walkmans or pagers on their waists instead of MP3 players or cell phones; ten years ago, it was still the age of cassette tapes and CDs; ten years ago, all the young girls, most of the young married women, and some middle-aged women all wrapped themselves in those frightening exercise pants and roamed through streets and alleys—completely ignoring whether their legs were long or short, thick or thin; ten years ago, qigong, dancing, mahjong, going into business, and rankings started becoming popular; ten years ago, most people still didn’t know the meaning of being laid off; ten years ago, people only dyed their hair black; ten years ago, people always shopped in big department stores and there were no little supermarkets; ten years ago, stories of all kinds of lavish spending by rich people began to spread; ten years ago, they had begun small-scale extramarital affairs but hadn’t yet moved on to keeping mistresses on a large scale; ten years ago, people began hearing about AIDS; ten years ago, people lined up to buy Chinese cabbage, laundry detergent, and sodium chloride; ten years ago, there weren’t so many hotpot restaurants, seafood centers, internet cafés, and roadside food stalls; ten years ago, the two-day weekend began; ten years ago, the streets were full of video parlors and dance halls; ten years ago, many officials still rode bicycles to work and to take their children places; ten years ago, many people cried over bidding for the Olympics; ten years ago, teenagers also began chasing stars;
Most of the people from ten years ago are still living in this world.
Ten years ago, people began pouring into the south, and Yu Zuomin rode around ostentatiously in a Mercedes 600; ten years ago, people argued endlessly over stocks, housing allocation, promotions, and children’s New Year money; ten years ago, people in Shanghai were still very depressed while Shenzhen was full of itself;
Ten years ago, we had no internet, no E-MAIL, no MP3, no QQ, no text messages, no chat rooms, no BBS, no Legend and Delta Force, no Shenzhou spacecraft; ten years ago, we didn’t know that flooding wasn’t irrigation, didn’t know that online romance wasn’t just many people falling in love, didn’t know that dinosaurs and frogs had meanings outside biology, and knew even less the deep meanings of SB, MM, and GG; ten years ago, we had libraries, movie theaters, sports fields, outings, letter-writing, reading, and hometown associations, and of course arcade machines, game cartridges, and Tetris as well;
Ten years ago there weren’t so many choices for listening to songs, but we listened to these voices: Luo Dayou’s Love Song 1990, Tong Ange’s Let Life Wait, Jacky Cheung’s Blessing, Emil Chau’s Friends, Chang Yusheng’s The Sea, BEYOND’s The Great Land, Pan Meichen’s Want to Have a Home, and also the Little Tigers’ Green Apple Paradise;
Ten years ago we watched Jackie Chan’s Police Story, Chow Yun-fat’s Mark Gor, Stephen Chow’s Fight Back to School (back then all the parody and wordplay was already there, but there weren’t yet so many seemingly profound interpretations of it). Ten years ago we also began watching imported blockbusters, including Jurassic Park, Terminator, True Lies, and The Lion King;
Ten years ago we read Jin Yong, Wang Shuo, Cai Zhizhong, and The Wanli Fifteen Years; back then Duzhe was still called Reader’s Digest, and Dushu was still edited by Dong Xiuchang; we devoutly read every issue of the former while pretending to despise it, while from the latter we learned very little yet still kept it in a conspicuous place;
Ten years ago we also fell in love, played cards, and danced;
One day ten years ago, I returned lost money and refused the reward, and because of that I met the owner—a beautiful girl from the Chinese department. I flusteredly gave her back her things as if I were the thief who had stolen them—from then on I never saw her again—though even ten years later I still occasionally think of her brilliant smile—I wonder whether little brothers ten years later, in a similar situation, would be just as foolish as I was;
Ten years ago I was twenty years old
Ten years ago I lived a puritan-like monotonous life at a second-rate university. Even ten years later, I still often dream of the time I spent spacing out in the wasteland east of that school. On one afternoon when the northwest wind howled, I walked alone through the yellow sand until I found a lonely mutton soup shop, where I enjoyed the most unforgettable delicacy of my life. Ten years later, the tiny cracks on that coarse porcelain bowl and the crumbs falling from the flatbread are still vivid before my eyes. On one scorching summer day ten years ago, I watched her leave that closed-off city and my own helpless self for a huge city in the Yangtze River Delta. On one day ten years ago, I cried like a child who had accidentally smashed a fish tank, a complete mess.
Ten years are gone for good.
For all friends who grew into maturity within these ten years.
