Mao's Last Dancer - Li Cunxin [75]
I made many new friends. With Christmas approaching, one of Ben’s friends bought me a book about Christmas. With the help of my dictionary and the pictures, I worked out that on Christmas Eve this long-silver-bearded man called Santa Claus would ride on a sled pulled by nine reindeer, all with very strange names. I remembered the one called Rudolph, because of Rudolf Nureyev. What was even stranger was that Santa Claus went down people’s chimneys and put presents in children’s stockings!
Most of what I learned about Christmas, however, was to do with shopping. With my limited scholarship money I bought a few presents for my American friends when Ben took me to a famous shopping mall. There was a mass of people there, everyone carrying enormous numbers of bags. Christmas trees were everywhere. Ben spent nearly $5,000 on presents in a couple of hours. My father’s salary for sixty-five years! My father’s entire lifetime of back-breaking work. My family could live on this amount for over half a century. It was shocking.
The Christmas Day party at Ben’s house was a mega-event, with over forty friends, dancers, and students. Ben had presents for everyone. I even received presents from Santa Claus, left in my very own Christmas stocking hanging in Ben’s living room. Ben didn’t have a fireplace: I wondered how Santa had got in.
Ben’s Christmas food was a feast. A huge sizzling turkey, a big shining ham, trays of roasted potatoes, cakes, and puddings. I kept telling myself to enjoy it, but all I could think of was dried yams and my family’s survival.
The months passed quickly. That summer my friend Zhang Weiqiang received permission from the Ministry of Culture to come back for summer school, along with three more students from the Beijing Dance Academy. I was so happy to see them and thrilled they also had the opportunity to come to the West.
During the summer session I met an eighteen-year-old girl from Florida called Elizabeth Mackey. She sat right next to me during floor exercises. I felt self-conscious sitting so close. She wore her long hair loose and I noticed the subtle smell of her perfume.
Throughout the summer school Elizabeth and I kept bumping into each other. Whenever our eyes met my heart beat faster. But I kept telling myself, “Don’t be silly. Remember the Bandit’s unrequited love? Concentrate on your dancing. You are not worthy of such a beautiful girl.”
I had other things to concentrate on. Ben called me one day. “Li, Billy has just injured his back. Would you like to replace him and dance with Suzanne Longley tonight?”
My heart leaped. Suzanne and Billy were principal dancers in the company. He and Suzanne were guest artists that night, dancing Ben’s pas de deux in the Houston Grand Opera’s Die Fledermaus in an outdoor theater.
“But I don’t know steps!” I shouted into the phone.
“I’ll teach you. Hurry up, we’ll wait for you.”
I ran all the way to the studio. It took me just over three hours to learn every step of the grand pas de deux. We barely had time to eat before going to the theater for our stage rehearsal at 6:30 p.m. I had never been so nervous in my life. I wasn’t just nervous. I was petrified. What if I forgot the choreography? What if the audience booed? “Cunxin, just remember to breathe and let the music help you. And whatever you do, don’t let Suzanne fall to the ground,” I told myself.
As the introduction music for our pas de deux was played, Suzanne looked at me with a radiant smile. I forced a smile back. “This is it,” I thought. “The test of your seven years training under Madame Mao. Remember your parents. Remember Teacher Xiao. Remember the Bandit and the Chinese people.”
Suzanne and I charged onto the stage. My calves didn’t cramp. I didn’t forget any choreography. I was too nervous to know how well I danced but Suzanne gave me the biggest hug after the performance.
Ben read me the reviews the next day: America had discovered a new star, from China of all places, they said.
After my success with