Unfolding New Worlds

世界在面前展开

地图——通往异国的向导，激发想像力的钥匙

I spent the most unforgettable period of my life --- my secondary school days --- mostly in China' s Sichuan province. In my memory, the hilly landscape, with the zipper-like* Jiange range to the north and the Wu Gorge that all but closed like a locked door to the east, confined me in a large basin. Outside, the Sino-Japanese war was raging, but I was as safe as a baby in his mother' s womb.

The war' s restrictions on movement and information could not hold back my curious imagination. What lay beyond the war? I was eager to explore. In those days, we saw no more than a few films a year, to say nothing of television. Even radio was by no means common. I had only two windows through which I could glimpse the outside world: English classes and geography lessons. When I had enough of my English homework, I would flip through an atlas. My mind took flight when I pored over the maps. I was never tired of looking at them. They moved my heart more forcefully than any beautiful scenery.

There is no easier way to learn about a new place than to examine its stamps, money and maps. With their elegant printing and pleasing colours, stamps and money can give you a picture of the special features of a foreign country, but they can be difficult to obtain. A map, on the other hand, can be found any where. Maps --- nothing more than a collection of abstract symbols representing a particular place --- gave my imagination free reign. Since I was little, I had always enjoyed losing myself in distant thoughts by looking at the maps.

That atlas was my most beautiful and precious possession, and I took it with me wherever I went. When I went home from boarding school for the weekend, I had to walk through mountain paths, and would come to the Jialing River. I loved to sit on the soft and yellow sandy beach, open my atlas and take a spiritual journey. Sichuan is located hundreds of kilometres from the sea, so whenever my eyes roamed over a map, they were usually drawn to the countries with wriggling seacoasts, especially those with many islands. I felt I could easily quench my thirst for the outside world by drinking in the seawater, and satisfy my hunger by gnawing on those islands. As I watched the river flow southward, I wondered when the water would carry me to the sea.

Drawing maps became my favourite homework, and soon I was the recognised map-man iac of my class. Fellow students came to me for help when they couldn' t complete their map assignments. My reputation even spread to the teachers. One in particul ar would always glance over his shoulder to check my response whenever he drew a map on the blackboard. The other students couldn' t suppress their giggles, while I tried my best to act as if nothing was amiss.

One winter afternoon when I was 14, a used-book vendor came to the school. Looking at his merchandise on display under an orange tree, I was drawn to an ancient map of Turkey in dappled colours. Knowing nothing about that ancient country, I spent what little pocket money I had on my first map. I sensed that it was a symbol of intelligence, a code of beauty and a cheque backed by the wealth of the world. If I tried hard enough, I would be able to decipher the symbol, break the code, cash the cheque and restore the map to the majestic lands that it represented.

After finishing my education, I taught for four years in the United States during the 1960s. Whenever I went on a trip, I only had highway maps to discuss my travels with. The intimacy I felt towards them was no different from what I felt tow ards a friend.

In 1974, I moved to Hong Kong, and lived there for 11 years. As I travelled more and more, the American maps in my collection were slowly replaced by those from various European countries. Europe, ancient and multi-faceted, attracted me deeply: there were so many countries, so many languages, so many beautiful castles, palaces, churches, squares and sculptures. As if walking in my sleep, I entered an other world --- one I seemed to have come across some time ago.

The atlas that I owned in youth did not lie to me. That beautiful cheque was fin ally cashed when I visited Europe.

我一生中最难忘的时光---中学时代---大部分是在中国四川省度过的。在我的记忆中，四川北边是蜿蜒的剑阁山脉，东边是像紧锁着的大门一般的巫峡，这些险峻的地形把我锁在了这个大盆地里面。外面，抗日战争正打得如火如荼，但我却像娘胎里的婴儿那样安全。

战争限制了我的行动和消息来源，但却不能泯灭我的好奇心和想像力。战争之外还有什么？我急于想搞明白。在那些日子里，我们一年也看不到几部电影，更不用说电视了，甚至连收音机都不常见。我只有两扇窥视外面世界的窗户：英语课和地理课。做烦了英语作业时，我常常会翻看地图册。每当我专注于一幅幅地图时，我的思绪就像插上了翅膀。我看地图从不觉得厌倦。它们比任何美丽的风景更能打动我的心。

了解一个新地方最简单的方法就是研究当地的邮票、钱币和地图。邮票和钱币上的精美印刷和悦目的颜色可以使我们了解到一些异国的特点，但这两样东西却不易得到，而地图却随处可得。地图，无非是代表一个特定地方的一些抽象符号而已，却能任由我发挥想像。从小我就喜欢看地图，让它带着我的思绪飞向远方。

那本地图册是我最美、最宝贵的财产，无论走到哪里，我都随身携带。周末从寄宿学校回家时，走过一段山路后，我常常会来到嘉陵江边。我喜欢坐在软软的黄色沙滩上，打开地图册，来一段心灵之旅。四川距海有数百公里之遥，所以每当我扫视地图时，目光就会被吸引到那些拥有曲折海岸线的国家上，尤其是岛屿很多的国家。我觉得哪怕是喝一口海水、吻一下海岛的泥土就能满足我对外间世界的渴望，我望着南流的河水，想着它何时才能把我带到海边。

画地图成了我最喜欢的作业，很快我就成了班上公认的地图狂。那些完不成地图作业的同学都来找我帮忙。我的名声甚至传到了老师的耳朵里。有个老师在黑板上画地图时，总是回头看我的反应，同学们都止不住地咯咯笑，而我却装得跟没事似的。

我14岁那年一个冬日的下午，我们学校来了一位卖旧书的小贩。看着他摆在橘子树下的东西，我一下子被一张颜色斑驳的土耳其旧地图吸引住了。虽然我对这个古老的国家一无所知，可还是用仅有的一点零花钱买下了这张地图，这是我拥有的第一张地图。在我眼里，它是智慧的象征，美景的代号，承载世界财富的支票。若下工夫的话，我就能解释这个象征，破译这个代号，兑换这张支票，恢复地图的本来面貌——它所代表的壮丽山河。

完成学业之后，20世纪60年代，我在美国教了四年书。出去旅游时，我只和我的交通图商量行程。我与地图的关系就像和朋友一样亲密。

1974年，我移居香港，在那里生活了11年。随着旅行的增多，我行囊中的美国地图渐渐被众多欧洲国家的地图所取代。古老而多姿的欧洲深深地吸引着我。它拥有那么多的国家，那么多种语言，那么多漂亮的城堡、宫殿、教堂、广场和雕塑。像梦游一般，我进入了另一个世界——一个很久以前就似曾到过的地方。

我少时拥有的地图册没有骗我。那张美丽的支票在我去欧洲时终于兑现了。

zipper-like: 拉链似的。这里指山脉蜿蜒。