今天因为聊到没有手机如何生活,当年那段在佛罗伦萨的生活又历历在目。我们的房子是学校帮忙联系的,六层高,我们住在顶层。我和两个巴西姑娘一起住。房子像是有些年头了,但维护得一尘不染。印象很深的是,卧室正常的窗户外面有一层木头窗,关闭之后一片漆黑,所以睡觉分外酣畅。也许是因为是短期出租,也许是因为佛罗伦萨就胜在它的古老,屋子里没有网络,也没有任何人提过网络二字。甚至咖啡馆里也没有无线网络,可能因为意大利人去咖啡馆多是为了喝咖啡,而不是为了消磨时光。那时用的还是原始的手机,加上充值时从来听不明白套餐是怎么回事,不敢多用手机上网。我们那条巷子里有几家店铺,其中包括一家不知为何火爆异常的酒吧,每到周末都会人声鼎沸到第二日清晨,木头窗户也挡不住。巷子口美其名曰是一个小广场,其实是一个四叉路口,对面有一家冰激凌店,一个球只卖一欧。还有一家我们常去的超市,不算大但是买得到各种面包、水果、饼干和奶酪。里面有一个长相十分地中海的男收银员,蓝绿色的眼睛和一头卷曲的浅褐色头发,我想我这辈子都能一眼认出他来(难怪我认得出的人总是多过认得出我的人)。
有一家店铺的门总是虚掩着,之前都没有引起我的注意。后来有一天巴西姑娘告诉那里可以打国际长途,于是我进去一试。没想到它竟然还是一家网吧。网吧内空间很小,总共摆放着六七八台电脑,是那种很老式的。如同发现救命稻草一般,我立刻找时间去上了网。网速很慢,一小时好像要两三欧。我还依稀记得从钱包中找钢镚儿时店主人面带微笑等候的样子。一来二去,他都认得我了。然而我终于发现我并没有什么舍弃不掉的东西残留在让我恋恋不舍的网络上。上网只是一种可有可无的习惯,就如同我习惯了早上喝一杯兑了鲜奶的咖啡,不喝也不会死。回头想想那两位巴西姑娘,她们好像从始至终从来没有这样的诉求,也许巴西人真的不懂电脑,或者说他们更懂得生活吧。 我是第一个进驻我们的房子的。我打电话给房东,然后从火车站坐上一辆不知去往何方的公交车,在一个不知是哪里的站下车。我拖着一个很大很沉重的箱子,背着一个鼓囊的背包,一手还握着一张精致的地图。我当时还不太分辨得出那张地图里的方向。我拖着那只箱子走啊走,走过华灯初上时的佛罗伦萨街道,三五成群的人们与我擦肩而过,他们都是以散步的姿态从容不迫,观赏商店玻璃窗里的景致和迷人的夜色。我一边羡慕他们,一边奔向我的目的地。到达之后,我打通房东的电话,他从六楼探出脑袋向下张望,对我招手。他是一个强壮的中年男人,拎起我的箱子就爬上六楼。后来因为我有朋友在房间里借宿,他义正言辞地找我收每晚二十欧的房费。我在一个月后的某个清晨拖着我的很大很沉重的箱子离开了那个短暂的家,离开了在六楼向我挥手告别的巴西姐妹。不知道房东多年后会不会一眼认出当年欠了他几十欧的中国姑娘,如同我认出超市收银男那样。 第二天上午我去学校报名,参加了水平考试,下午跟大家一起参观了几个景点。这之中我遇到了第一个巴西姑娘。她是大学的数学老师,当时只会讲葡语。在最初的一个星期,我们的交流真的仅仅停留在眼神、手势、表情上。她对意大利语还没什么概念,我对葡语更是完全没有头绪。我至今也想不明白我们的第一顿在家下厨的晚餐是如何成功的。我们一同去超市购物,互相配合做出晚餐,而且坐在同一张餐桌旁吃完了整顿饭,还没有觉得尴尬。我也不知道我们当时说了什么,或者试图说了什么,但是那是一种很奇妙的感觉,我发现我竟然可以跟一个无法交流的人安然共处,甚至还对她产生了某种莫名的亲切感和信任感。 有一天出门的时候,我在楼下看到了第二个巴西姑娘。她的头发染成了金色,倚靠在墙上等待什么人。我多看了她一眼,猜想这是否就是神秘的第三人。你有没有那样的经验呢?你将要见到一个人,如果你在你们正式碰面的约定地点之前看到他/她,你会有种特别的感觉。我经常在人群中一眼揪出我即将见到的那个人。果不其然。这位姑娘意大利语说得比较流利,后来跟我分在一个班上课。她在一边上学一边做空姐,我也搞不清楚哪个是主业。她大约三十岁,有一种巴西人特有的热情和魅力,说起话来滔滔不绝。我们相互间以姐妹相称。每次有一个人对我以姐妹相称,我都感动到无以复加,这与了解有多深入、认识有多久毫无关系,只是一种感觉。除她之外另一位给我姐妹感觉的,是我在北京认识的那位引导我吃素的意大利姑娘,每每有她在的时候,我都会有种难以解释的安全感。 本来是说没有网络的生活,又跑题了。我想一个人一辈子也不会想念很多人,想念的又未必是重要的人。所以人还挺奇怪的。
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We carried the electronic piano downstairs and crammed it into the backseat of the cab. I ran upstairs to fetch the guitar and locked the door and glaring Panther behind me. The driver asked, “Which route are we taking?” I hate it when the cab drivers ask this question. Use some expertise, can you? I sat in the front seat and felt an overwhelming fatigue that was taking over my body. When we got there, the bar was empty with some background music that I’d never heard. The owner of the bar greeted me by waving his right hand that was holding a burning cigarette. While they were checking the sound of the piano, I hurried out to the closest pharmacy to buy some cough syrup and withdrew some cash. It was a Wednesday evening. The street was busy as usual. I tried a few songs on stage with the guitar, and the bar owner said that he could offer some more performing opportunities in the future. I don’t remember if I answered at all.
I was holding the syrup on one hand and a glass of water on the other. My shiny purple high heels were in a bag placed just beside the stage, but I didn’t bother to change them. I kept my bright blue snow boots on despite the scorching lighting. I watched the audience from the stage. It was a small room filled with people I know, at least most of them. The guitar strings even seemed looser. I found no particular reason to be nervous, except that my throat wasn’t exactly in its best condition. I saw a crowd of people, but I saw no one. Some people were standing in the small courtyard outside peeping through the open window. Some were talking and some smoking. I tried to make time to talk with everyone I know, but I ended up coughing my way out every time. The drummer friend stared at my necklace for as long as a minute and finally asked, “What do these letters mean?” They had a meaning indeed. He sat through the whole thing even though he only had to drum for two or three songs. I kept asking him if he was hungry, as if some food could make up for his wasted time. I don’t know which is more accurate, that I’m losing my cat or that I haven’t found it yet. Sometimes you hold on to that one straw and force yourself to believe that it would save your life. What you care is that straw, not whether you’ll be saved or not. A random girl accused me of filling my life with useless things and ignoring my health. I didn’t care enough to reason with her, or maybe I didn’t have enough reasons anyway. I said to Cat before goodnight that I think I’m perfectly capable of letting go of all the things in this world. All the things in me, around me and beyond. She said now that it’s done, we can move on. Let’s get back to normality. This morning I took Hooked On Philosophy from my bookshelf and put it in my bag. I took a deep deep breath in the smog or pollution or whatever you call it, and I was 87% sure that I’d miss the grey sky if I’d ever leave Beijing for good. It was just one of those days that will never come back. I was kept awake on the phone till after 2:00 a.m., and I felt nothing but tired. Between talking and sleeping, I was surprised by the amount of patience I had. Are there actually people who are absolutely satisfied with their life, where they are, what they do and who they’re with? Maybe there are, but with a definite term. We carried the piano with a piece of cloth wrapping around it, which resembled the shape of a dead body under the cover of the night, and climbed the stairs quietly. I guess at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter if it’s someone taking care of me or the other way around. Fear and uncertainty don’t go away; they will always be around. Why don’t you trust your decision and hang on to it for a change? I stared at Panther and he stared back. Maybe he secretly wants to be me, because he’s always on my spot when I’m not at home. People have a thousand excuses to be absent, but what counts are the times when they’re present. I killed the light and fell asleep peacefully, as if nothing just happened and nothing was ever going to happen. |
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