Short story: The visit, by Sherry Xu
The sun had warmed the room by around eleven o'clock. She was still in bed reading when she heard loud knocking at the door. They had never had visitors since they moved here three months ago. Wu Lei opened the door, as if he'd been expecting someone. She heard him stammering in English before calling out to her in Chinese, 'Mei, can you come out?'
She hastily scrambled into a jumper over her pyjama top, and tidied her hair briefly with her fingers. At the door stood two beautiful young women with sweet smiles.
'Do you speak English?' the girl with blonde hair asked.
'Yes?'
'Do you have a minute to hear about the good news of Jesus?' The girls' faces and bodies gleamed in the sunlight.
'Come in, do come in,' Mei said, fleeing back to the bedroom – she needed to get changed. She called out to Wu Lei in Chinese through the door, 'Get the chairs ready for our guests, would you?' She quickly changed, shoved the mess of clothes from the bedroom chair onto the bed and carried out a spare chair.
Wu Lei stepped over to help her. The two girls were seated on the two dining chairs.
'Would you like something to drink?' asked Mei. 'Would you like tea? Chinese tea?'
'Oh, thank you so much,' said one girl. 'That's very kind of you, but could we just have water please.'
The kitchen bench top was cluttered. A plate with food stains and a used mug sat beside Wu Lei's laptop on the dining table. The water in the kettle had been boiled in the morning so she gave the girls two cups of warm water. She didn't yet know that tap water was drinkable.
Wu Lei made Mei sit on the bedroom chair while he settled on a low plastic stool they had found at an inorganic collection.
'My name is Sarah, and this is Indie.'
The room looked cramped with four people – there was hardly any space to turn around. The girls were too beautiful to be here. Sarah was wearing a white tailored shirt and beige pants. Indie had on a navy blue short-sleeve dress. Their faces looked so young they couldn't be over twenty-five.
If only they could see their apartment in Shenzhen! The girls must think they were poor.
'I'm sorry for this place …' said Mei. Seeing Sarah scanning the room before resting her puzzled gaze at her face, she added, 'It's only temporary… it's so … simple …'
'No, no, no, your house is fine … it's good. We've been to all sorts of places… we love them all. You should see where we live, it's only a tiny room with two single beds and nothing else… ' said Sarah. Indie nodded enthusiastically.
The girls really didn't mind, Mei realised. In fact, they might take pride in coming to poor places. Wasn't it especially satisfying to spread Jesus' words to the wretched, the crippled, the jobless and clueless new immigrants like themselves, and to save their souls?
She had never before observed a person of a different race so closely. Indie's left arm was right before her eyes, covered with fine golden hair. She wanted to touch, to smooth down the soft hair in one direction and then brush them up from another, like the northern wind sweeping over the long grass on the steppes of Inner-Mongolia, revealing sheep and cows – the tiny freckles on the white arm. The hairs on her own arms were scarce. With Chinese people, only the elderly had freckles, as far as she knew. Indie's long lashes, golden too, a darker gold, completely shielded her eyes when she looked down, then flashed up, revealing two sparkling blue lakes. How could this many colours co-exist in one person?
Where are you from? they were asking. How long have you been here, how do you like New Zealand? Do you believe in God, do you have friends who believe in God? The two girls spoke clearly and gently, listened to Mei, nodding their heads. They were considerate, understanding, forgiving. How nice it would be to be friends with them.
Were these girls trying to convert her into a believer in God? Maybe God would love her too, an Asian? Please tell her how to behave in order to belong in this new and strange land, where God shares the same race as the majority of the people. Not her race. That's different. Will this God treat her differently? Can she trust Him when His people here have treated her differently, like the time she was told to go back where she came from?
Her friend Jenny had said that many Chinese immigrants in New Zealand had joined a church, mostly a Chinese church, where they made new friends, formed networks, and found a sense of belonging while learning to be believers. God would love you unconditionally, they said. Death was not extinction; souls would prevail. There was heaven — if you strived hard enough, you would reach eternity. Your struggles and suffering, no matter how minor or humble, were worthwhile. Your existence would have meaning and purpose, should you believe in God.
She would devote herself to Him then — if she was convinced — like a Tibetan peasant repeatedly prostrating himself on the road, covering the entire distance from his hometown to Lhasa on the pilgrimage.
The small talk continued. Wu Lei was visibly bored. He sat staring at the carpet, now fidgeting on the stool, shuffling his legs or rubbing his chin, unwilling or unable to join in the conversation.
When Sarah suggested they pray, Mei nodded.
'Prayer, prayer,' Indie clasped her hands together in front of her face to show Wu Lei what she meant, exaggerating, the way people explained things to foreigners. Wu Lei rose from the stool, politely smiled at her, and shook his head. He picked up his laptop from the dining table, and quietly closing the bedroom door behind him.
'You can say your prayers out loud or silently. Which way do you prefer?' asked Sarah.
'Silently please,' Mei said.
'Okay, let's pray. We start with 'Heavenly Father'.'
Mei imitated the girls. She lowered her head and eyes and clasped her hands in front of her chest. Shall I intertwine my fingers or shall I wrap one hand around the other? She peeked at the girls, bringing her elbows and forearms closer to be more earnest and sincere.
'Heavenly Father,' she began, but then she didn't know what to say. She called out to Him silently. She needed to know if He was there first — otherwise, what was the point of praying to a void?
Then she listened. Tick, tock. It was the little alarm clock they had bought from The Warehouse, made in China, cheap but useful. Outside, cicadas were singing. Songs of love, she had read somewhere, but they were not sweet songs at all. They were shrill, urgent, the male pleading to the female to mate, despite the fact that soon after mating and the laying of eggs, they would both die. All within two to four weeks.
A car zoomed down a street. How silly she had been when she first came here thinking no one lived in Auckland. Cars had been passing by all the time. In a car, there'd always be people, at least a driver. And if this driver was not careful, putting his foot on the accelerator instead of the brake or turning the steering wheel a little too far, an accident could happen.
She listened hard, and she could hear nothing else. And she knew that there was no God, that she was on her own. She had always been and always would be on her own. It would be nice to have God, but no. She couldn't fool herself, she couldn't fake it.
With 'Amen' the girls ended their prayers. Mei said 'Amen' too. The girls read her a passage from the Bible, but it made no sense.
'Shall we come to see you again next week?'
'Well, we wont't be home next week …' Mei tried to find excuses. It was hard to say no now that they had chatted with each other like friends. That would be too blunt, wouldn't it?
'Then maybe the week after? On Saturday morning?'
'Maybe …'
'Please can you tell us a time that we could come?'
It finally occurred to Mei that the Chinese way of refusal would not work in this country.
'I'm really sorry,' she said with an apologetic smile while looking directly at Sarah. 'Please don't come again. We're not interested.'
Asked what was on her mind when she wrote her story, the author replied, 'The story was inspired by a visit from two Mormon girls. Christianity has become something new and compelling among Chinese immigrants — a hunger for spirituality after years of both Marx's materialism and the relentless materialism of capitalism. But religion isn't for me. I have literature.'
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
1News
9 hours ago
- 1News
Plane with 49 people crashes over Russia's Far East
The wreckage of a plane that crashed while carrying 49 people has been found in Russia's Far East, local emergency services said today. Russia's Emergency Situations Ministry said that they had found the plane's 'burning fuselage' but did not provide further details. Forty-three passengers, including five children, as well as six crew members were on board the An-24 passenger plane as it travelled from the city of Blagoveshchensk on the Russian-Chinese border to the town of Tynda, regional Governor Vasily Orlov said. The flight, which was operated by the Siberia-based Angara Airlines, disappeared from radar and lost contact with air traffic controllers several kilometres from Tynda airport.
NZ Herald
13 hours ago
- NZ Herald
Six students drown after falling into slurry-filled tank on field trip
The accident occurred at an ore processing plant in northern China. Listening to articles is free for open-access content—explore other articles or learn more about text-to-speech. The accident occurred at an ore processing plant in northern China. Six university students drowned on Wednesday after they fell into a tank while on a field trip to an ore processing plant in northern China, Chinese state media reported. The students, who were majoring in mineral processing engineering at Northeastern University in Shenyang, were on a field trip to Inner Mongolia, an autonomous region of China, when the grid plate they were standing on collapsed as they were observing a flotation cell, according to state media. Flotation is a stage in the mining process used to concentrate the minerals. Finely ground minerals are mixed with water in a container called a flotation cell to produce a 'metallurgical pulp' that helps sort the valuable from the unneeded materials. The students fell into the flotation cell, which looks like a large container, about 10.20am. Rescuers scrambled to retrieve them, but the students were pronounced dead. A teacher was also injured in the incident.
Otago Daily Times
19 hours ago
- Otago Daily Times
Programme helping those settling in
New people are essential to filling all roles needed in Central Otago's ever-expanding work force but settling in to a new place is often difficult, making newcomers hard to retain. Central Otago District Council community and engagement manager Paula Penno said Welcoming Communities was a programme led by Immigration New Zealand in partnership with the Human Rights Commission. It was so successful that after the government funding ran out the council agreed in the 2024-25 annual plan to extend the programme for a further two years. The council approached Central Lakes Trust for support and received $16,000 — 20% of the programme cost of $80,000 per year which included a part-time paid position, Ms Penno said. Welcoming Communities officer Heather Harries said her part-time role worked well alongside her other role as an ESOL teacher with Reap. Helping people feel part of the community led to better outcomes for the newcomers and the rest of society, she said. Most newcomers in Central Otago arrived from somewhere else in New Zealand. Some were from overseas and needed assistance with residency and visas and others needed to find their place in the community. Challenges included finding accommodation and then travelling to work given the lack of public transport in the region. A lack of childcare options often meant a family could only have one parent working which led to unanticipated financial pressures, Ms Harries said. One family she had worked with were struggling as the father had to pass an academic English exam but his wife was working 5pm to 10pm, so instead of attending his English lessons he was minding the children. With few contacts in the community and no family around those were traps people found themselves in, she said. "Creating networks and connections between the families, schools, employers, and support networks is crucial in guiding the families through the settlement process." Other newcomers were older Kiwis from other parts of the country and remote workers. They sometimes found it difficult trying to make friends in a new community without the easy introductions that came with meeting people through work or having children at school. The ultimate aim of Welcoming Communities was that it would be self-supporting and not need a paid leader, Ms Harries said. However, volunteers came and went as their circumstances changed and they settled into their new lives, so someone was needed to keep the momentum going. A wide range of activities were organised by the group, from international potluck meals, sporting events, evening drinks, walking groups and a women's swimming group. Ms Harries said she identified with newcomers as she had moved to Central Otago more than six years ago and found things difficult initially. "As an ESOL teacher I realised everything I felt was magnified. I had New Zealand residency... a government department rejecting an application feels like a personal rejection but it's just them doing their job." Moving from Mumbai, in India, to Cromwell seven years ago brought many surprises for Mamta Nerurkar. From finding familiar food to much more limited shopping options and no public transport were some of the things she had to adjust to, along with very short days in winter and long ones in summer. Meeting other mums and families through Welcoming Communities and other community groups had made the transition easier, she said.
