The Corpse Walker: Real Life Stories: China From the Bottom Up (34 page)

One day, I met a college student who watched me perform and really liked our band. When he learned that I composed my own songs, he was impressed and strongly recommended that I attend a music academy to have some formal training. I was seduced by the idea. So our band stayed in the same city for a long time. The college guy and I started hanging out together. Since it cost a lot of money to attend the music academy, he figured out a way to help me save money. He asked his parents to set aside a room for me and I moved in. Each time I earned some money on the street, I would hand it over to him and he would put it away in a bank. Since I didn't smoke or drink, I did save quite a bit. But then I realized that having money was not enough. To enroll in the music school, students had to take the National College Entrance Exam. I was a high school dropout and there was no way I could get in. But I didn't regret my efforts. At least I got to fantasize.

Later on, I continued to travel. In each city I passed through, I would always see a church. Out of curiosity, I walked into one and stayed through a service. I was touched by the sound of hymns. Before I left, I stole a copy of the Bible. I read it and was really into it. So I began to dream of going to a divinity school and becoming a composer serving God. I could write all sorts of hymns, you know.

LIAO:
I assume that the door to God's service should be open and free to all. At least you don't have to pay tuition.

QUE:
Well, I began to read the Bible and write hymns in my spare time. One day, I summoned enough courage to set up an appointment with a young minister. When I showed him my work, he glanced through it and handed it back to me with a look of contempt. He said: We have many beautiful hymns already written by grand masters. Your job is not to compose, but to learn. I wouldn't give up. I cleared my throat and sang a hymn that I had just written. But he wasn't impressed.

LIAO:
Didn't realize you turned yourself into a gospel singer and writer.

QUE:
I was pretty persistent. I met another minister in Yichang, Hubei Province. He was touched by my sincerity and piety. He recommended that I apply to the Jinling Divinity School in the southeastern city of Nanjing. I got the address from the minister and went on the road again. I felt very motivated. Four months later, I finally arrived in Nanjing and met with the school president. I told him about my family, my childhood, and my experience with God. I also asked for advice on my plan to receive education in Christianity. The president kept a stern face and seldom looked at me throughout the conversation. Occasionally, he would force a smile out of politeness. After my presentation, he said coldly: This school is the most prestigious Christian higher educational institute in China. To get in, you need to go through political background checks. Also, you have to pass the National College Entrance Exam. Then, if you meet these two requirements, you will need to work here as a volunteer for two years before you can officially start.

LIAO:
Political background checks? I guess the government wants to make sure you are patriotic and support the Communist government.

QUE:
I begged him, saying: Can I work here as a volunteer and take classes while you go conduct my political background check? The president said that he couldn't allow such a precedent. He also shared with me his concern that many people had attempted to attend the divinity school and used the experience as a springboard to go abroad or to marry a foreigner. Their motive had nothing to do with serving God. While he was lecturing me, I felt so uncomfortable. It was true that I had other motives. I wanted to change my life as a street musician. Was there anything wrong with that?

LIAO:
Did he point out a new path for a strayed sheep like you?

QUE:
Well, he told me to go back to Yichang and discuss my passion with the local church belonging to the Three-Selves Patriotic Movement. In China, the Party has created its own “Catholic” and “Protestant” churches in every city. They are called the Chinese Patriotic Catholic Association and the Three-Selves Patriotic Movement, which is Protestant.

LIAO:
Yes, I'm aware of it. It's strange that the Chinese Catholic church does not listen to the Vatican, but to the atheist Communist Party.

QUE:
It was understandable. Since nobody in China believes in Communism anymore, our leaders fear foreign religions could threaten the Party's rule. Let's not get into a political debate about it. Anyway, I followed his instructions and went back to Yichang. I sought help from an official of the Three-Selves Patriotic Movement. He said he could offer me the opportunity to volunteer in his church, but I had to get official approval from the Yunyang county government. I asked if the church could issue an invitation letter, but he said he couldn't. So the road to God was blocked. My passion for religion was officially over.

LIAO:
If you really had a passion for God, why didn't you join the hundreds of underground churches? You could compose hymns for them.

QUE:
The government has banned the underground churches. Many people have been arrested. It's too risky.

LIAO:
What happened after your spiritual pursuit ran into obstacles?

QUE:
Life went on, without God. After a while, I felt tired and decided to settle down. First, I stayed in Chongqing. On October 8, 1992, I played a gig under a viaduct in the Shapingba district. My singing attracted quite a large crowd. But then, little did I know that the performance on that day would “throw me in a sewage ditch.”

LIAO:
Isn't that the code phrase for “got busted by the Municipal Regulatory Agency?”

QUE:
Yes. Every street performer can tell you about their experiences with MRA. I had been busted before and always managed to get away with minimal loss. But on that day, things were quite out of control.

LIAO:
I've heard many stories of corrupt MRA officials.

QUE:
They are like state-supported robbers. Vendors need to bribe them big-time to get a permit. If you don't have a permit, they smash all your equipment during their regular checkups. Since we used expensive sound equipment, the damage could run up to several thousand yuan.

LIAO:
You were certainly much better equipped than your parents' band.

QUE:
Our income was proportional to our investment. We wanted to make it big and make more money. But when the uniformed MRA robbers showed up that day, they shattered all my dreams. This is how it all happened. As I told you before, my hoarse and raspy voice was perfect for the new Chinese rock songs. My favorite was “Descendants of the Dragon” by the Taiwanese composer-singer Hou Dejian. In the 1990s, that song was very popular. The majority of the young folks wouldn't know the first two lines of the Chinese national anthem, but they could sing every word of “Descendants of the Dragon.” So, when I performed the song that day, several hundred people immediately gathered and began to sing along. It was quite a spectacle. Soon, the crowd was getting bigger and our collection box was filled with one-yuan and five-yuan bills. After I finished, people applauded and requested three encores. As I was enjoying the moment of success, loud sirens could be heard all over the area. Then, several police cars and jeeps pulled in under the viaduct. Over twenty MRA officials and police jumped out of their vehicles. Since we had a huge crowd, which was wildly excited, the police and the MRA guys had a hard time dispersing them. The audience became really unruly. I could see the police were mad as hell. They accused me of instigating trouble and began kicking at the speakers and microphones. They smashed the drums and came to get my guitar. Since I had a brand-new guitar, I was stupid enough to clutch it to my chest and not let go. Two policemen tried to punch me and seize it. Several onlookers saw this and began to throw beer bottles at the police. That really incensed them. Soon, four or five police joined forces and began to hit me and other people with batons. I fell to the ground, with blood all over my face. My guitar was broken into pieces.

After the crowd was finally dispersed, the police handcuffed and threw me into the back of a car, and then locked me up at a detention center.

LIAO:
What about the other people in the band?

QUE:
They were detained for a day or so and then released. Since I was the head of the band, they charged me with “resisting arrest and instigating trouble.” One officer said I deserved severe punishment.

LIAO:
How did they treat you at the detention center?

QUE:
At first, I was locked up with thirteen other guys in one room. I was still recovering from the bad beatings. I had a fever and lay on the floor, totally delirious. On the second day, two bastards saw that I was getting better. One guy pissed in a big bowl and then came over to me. He and his friend pried my mouth open and fed me the urine with a spoon. I spat it out but they kept slapping me. A guard heard my scream and stopped by. He yelled: You bastards, what are you doing to that guy over there? The guys immediately got up and stood at attention: Sir, we are feeding him Chinese herbal soup. The guard got curious: What kind of herbal soup? They answered: It's urine from a virgin boy. You know that a virgin boy's urine can help heal the body's injuries. The guard burst out laughing: You guys are virgins? Hope you don't pass on your STD to him. Then he walked away without stopping the torture.

LIAO:
That was so disgusting.

QUE:
At the end of the first week, the guys in my room found out that I was a singer. They were thrilled. One guy, who was the head of the gang in my cell, immediately put me to work. He ordered me to sing any songs that he requested. For a whole afternoon, I performed over forty songs. I almost lost my voice, and those bastards still wouldn't stop. Eventually, they all began to sing along. The whole detention center became a festive concert hall. I became a pop star among detainees. The “celebrity” status enabled me to dodge many of the physical attacks inflicted upon new arrivals.

The head of the gang was a well-known underworld assassin. Before his arrest, he had been hired by many businesspeople to go collect debts. For those who refused to cough up the money, he would cut off their ears or chop off their hands. People were really scared of him. He made me his perfect bitch. After he got tired of my singing, he came up with new ideas. In the evenings, when the guards were away, he would force me to dress in drag. A guy made a wig out of straw. Another one tucked two bowls into my shirt as fake breasts. Within a few minutes, they turned me into a bar girl. I used a tube of toothpaste as a fake microphone and was ordered to do strip dances. I was also forced to perform oral sex on him several times. Luckily, I was only detained there for two weeks. Then, I received an official notice from the court—I was sentenced to two years at a youth reeducation camp on the outskirts of Chongqing.

At the camp, we planted rice, tended orchids, and picked tea leaves. The hardest part was carrying buckets of human manure on shoulder poles from the delivery trucks to the field. My daily quota was fifty trips. Since I was short and thin, the job was killing me. So one day I talked with the camp director and asked if I could use my singing skills to educate and motivate other detainees. In return for my services, I could be spared some of the shit-carrying jobs. He thought it was a good idea and agreed to let me carry the manure three days a week rather than six days. He gave me a whole list of songs to perform. Among them were “Turning a New Chapter in Your Life,” “Physical Labor Is Glorious,” and “Socialism Is Good.”

LIAO:
You told me that you lost one of your eyes at the camp. How did it happen?

QUE:
One day, I didn't fulfill my manure-transporting quota and had to work extra hours. At about 8 p.m., I was getting really tired and dizzy, but I continued without taking a rest. Then I collapsed and fell on my face. I felt a sharp pain in my left eye. I realized that a piece of rock had pierced it. I screamed and passed out. When I woke up the next morning, I was in a hospital. They operated on my eye and took the eyeball out. At that time, I was three months and four days away from my release from the camp. Because of my injury, they let me go earlier. So I was back on the street, half blind and penniless. I thought about my blind parents. Could it be some sort of inescapable fate?

LIAO:
Do you believe in fate?

QUE:
I was only in my twenties when that happened. If I had resigned myself to fate, I wouldn't have had the guts to change and survive.

LIAO:
Well, you've changed. You are quite an established avant-garde street musician.

QUE:
My music has a lot to do with my life. The most important accomplishment for me is that I have rediscovered myself. In the past, I was embarrassed by my parents and never bothered to delve into their music and their art. Life behind bars and performing on the street have given me a new appreciation for street music. I have found street life a rich source of my musical inspiration. I constantly bring a tape recorder with me and record the clash of street sounds and noises. I then add this lively mix into my own singing.

LIAO:
I listened to the CD you sent me. I have to say it's a very interesting concept.

QUE:
I'm back with the people whom I knew the best. In the summer of 2000, at the Sichuan Folk Art and Music Festival near the Big Buddha Temple [Dafosi] in Chengdu, I had the opportunity to perform on the same stage with Zou Zhongxi, a master in folk music. He was already in his eighties and completely blind. Like my father, Master Zou was also a storyteller-singer, but he played a three-piece wooden clicker called a jinxianban. The clicker snapped and flew between his fingers, and the variations on the rhythms enhanced his storytelling. My father used to be a big fan of Zou. He would carry a radio and listen to Master Zou's performance for hours. On that day, I played my father's daoqin and then Master Zou performed “The Warrior Conquered the Tiger” with his jinxianban. When he was recounting the part where the warrior finally tamed the fierce tiger, he was so emotionally charged that I could almost see light shooting out of his blind eyes. That was really amazing. After the performance, I went to my father's tomb. I felt that I had finally done something that would make him proud.