"Why don't you just write it yourself," replied Zhang. "I trust you."
But I told him that I needed his help because our report would require a certain degree of deception if we were to avoid any suspicion from the officials.
"Write what you have to write. I will understand," Zhang said.
I was happy that Zhang trusted me to complete this task but I found it very difficult to write bad things about America. I simply couldn't think of any. So I made up some bad things about "rotten capitalist influences". First I described the daily routine at the Houston Ballet Academy and the new experiences in Ben's ballet classes. I emphasised the goodwill Zhang and I had generated for China. Then I put a considerable amount of time and effort into describing the diseased aspects of America. I described the restaurant owner from Taiwan as one of our class enemies, with her strong perfume smell, her thick makeup and her plastic smile. I described a black neighbourhood in Houston, the decaying houses and leaking roofs. I said it was infested with flies and mosquitoes and that people slept outside on mats on a dirt floor. Only a privileged few lived in air-conditioned luxury homes. I expressed sorrow for the poor black people of America. I emphasised our superior communist system and Chairman Mao's valued principles.
"This is great! Thank you, Cunxin!" Zhang said enthusiastically after he'd read the report.
But I wasn't happy. I felt angry that I'd had to do this at all.
When we handed in our report and returned the borrowed suitcases, ties and suits to the ministry, Wang Zicheng's deputy also asked us to relinquish any living allowance we'd been given.
Zhang and I were completely shocked. "We spent most of the money on food while we were there," I replied. I didn't tell her we'd also spent some of it on gifts for our families and friends.
"I want every remaining dollar here by tomorrow," she demanded.
So being good and honest Red Guards we gave all our remaining money to the ministry the following day. But I was desperately disappointed-I had planned to give that money to my family. They needed it more than the ministry did.
Going back to America so soon meant that I wouldn't be able to see my parents until after my return the following year. I knew they'd be eager to hear from me, so I wrote them a letter. "I will miss you dreadfully," I wrote, "especially upon New Year's Eve. I will raise my glass full of Tsingtao beer in a faraway foreign land and drink to your health and happiness. I will kneel and kowtow to you. If you sneeze, you will know that it is probably because I am mentioning your names. I hope you will understand how much I want to come home and tell you all about America. There is so much to tell it would take me too long to write it all down. Please be patient and wait for another year and before you know it I'll be back. I have brought presents back for you. I will bring them home next year. I am sending along with this letter a flight safety card so you can see the picture of the plane that I flew on. They are the most beautiful, awesome things in the world. I was flying so high above the clouds. I wish you could have the chance to fly in them one day. I'm sending with this letter all the love in my heart to all of you. I want to tell Niang that I miss her dumplings and all her delicious food. With all the expensive food I had in America, nothing tastes as good as Niang's dumplings."
On the third day after I returned, Zhang Shu the ballet department head asked me to teach a master class to all the ballet teachers in the academy to show them what I had learned while I was away. Teach my teachers a class? I felt nervous about that, but it went well and I continued to participate in most of our practice classes and rehearsals while I was getting ready to reapply for my passport. Our passports had been taken back by the ministry as soon as we'd arrived home.
I was happy to see my good friends at the Beijing Dance Academy again, especially the Bandit. I gave him an "I Love New York " button and some postcards from the cities I'd been to. He wasn't sure he'd be able to wear the button in public, but he loved it all the same. "How do you say, `I love New York ` in English?" he asked excitedly. "I wish I could have the privilege to see New York one day!"
"You will," I replied, but I knew that was very unlikely.
"You didn't fall in love with a pretty big-nosed girl while you were there?" he asked suddenly.
I laughed. "No, don't be silly. Of course not! What about you? Over Zhou Xiaoying yet?"
He shook his head sadly.
"What did you do with the rest of your holiday?" I tried to divert the conversation away from Zhou Xiaoying.
"I went home to see my father and mother. They all asked about you! They are so proud of you going to America and they want me to bring you to Hezi to spend a holiday with them some time." Hezi was his home town and reportedly where Confucius was buried. It was something the Bandit always boasted about.
"I will come after I get back from America next year," I replied.
"Tell me, what do you really think about America?" he asked.
I hesitated. I wasn't sure what to say. I wanted to tell him about the freedom I had tasted but I knew this would only lead him to misery. "There were many clean and wide streets, a lot of cars, tall buildings and good living standards," I said instead. "But the best thing was Ben. He was so nice and kind and I love his teaching." Then I told him about the White House, about New York, the ATM machine and all the electronic gadgets. He was especially surprised and excited about the ATM machine.
"Did you see anyone carrying guns on the street?"
"No," I replied, but I didn't want to talk about America any more. I told him I hoped he'd have the chance to see it all for himself one day, and quickly changed the subject.
I received my visa papers from Houston towards the end of the second week and immediately went to the Ministry of Culture to reapply for my passport. But when I arrived the deputy had some devastating news. "Cunxin," she said casually, "I've just received a directive from the minister's office. The minister has changed his mind. He has refused your request for a passport."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"The minister is concerned about potential Western influences. He thinks you are too young."
"But I've been there once already and the Western influence did nothing to me! Didn't you read our report?"
"Yes, I did. It is very good. But the minister has made up his mind."
I walked out of the building in total despair.
As soon as I arrived back at our academy I charged into Director Song's office. "Director Song, did you know about this?"
"Yes, but only this morning."
"Why?" I pressed.
"The minister thinks you are too young to go to America by yourself. It is a dark and filthy world out there," she replied.
"But the minister already gave me permission before I left America!" I said, full of emotion. "I have to go back! To learn more from Ben's teaching, to serve our country better!"
"I understand your feelings. I'm disappointed too. But you must trust the decision of the party. You shouldn't question the wisdom of the minister's decision. Now, go and carry on with your normal activities. You are only a tiny part of the communist cause. Forget your personal desires. And if you don't mind, I have work to do."
I left Director Song's office frustrated and angry. I walked right out of the academy. By this time they were more relaxed about senior students coming and going, so the security guard didn't stop me. I didn't know where I was going or what I was going to do. I just needed time to think, so I bought a five-fen entry ticket to Taoranting Park. I walked faster and faster. I broke into a run and ran without any thought or purpose, trying to drive away what was in my mind and heart. I ran like a blind, scared tiger. It was as though a beautifully sunny day had, without warning, turned dark and unfamiliar. All I could see was a neverending road, leading nowhere, only closing into a circle, a circle that was full of misery. My heart was racing, my legs were cramping and I gasped for air. "I have to get out!" I kept telling myself.