Prodigal Son

I got up late one morning weeks later, and Mom had prepared a simple lunch for me. My parents had left home early to take care of the workers at our family factory, making primarily plastic products. Some workers had returned to work after a short Chun Jie break. Usually a seven day break for those who work for the government. Mom is a Buddhist and she cooks more healthy vegetables and fish unless I have asked for something special to eat. Put it simply, I am not a fastidious eater all my life and mom seldom cooks anything special or extraordinary to appease my appetite. Or me. And because of diabetes, she is careful with her diet. That is good for me because I am beginning to put on some unnecessary weight to my lanky frame. Blame it on the computer games! Blame my Chun Jie vacation! Blame my time away from the basketball court! I wish I have a pet dog so I could at least walk or jog with my dog, because he would need to be outdoors daily to enjoy the fresh air and a bigger world than the claustrophobic space inside an apartment. While I was warming up the food in the microwave oven, the front door opened. My parents were at the factory. Who could it be? It was grandpa. Grandpa is special to our family and my parents had given him a key to our apartment. He could come any time he wants without having to call or knock on the front door. I wonder how many grandpas in China have this prerogative, a key to the apartment. “How are you, Grandpa,” I shouted from the kitchen, happy to see him smiling. Grandpa always brings something for the family, seldom coming empty handed. This time he brought my favorite fruit: passion fruit. “I thought I better come because soon you will return to the campus,” he said. “Not today…would you like to join me for a simple lunch?” I said. “What do you have there?” “Nothing special, the usual food mom had cooked for me. Food for a monk!” Grandpa thought it was funny I said that. “I had my lunch earlier today. I am not hungry.” Like many elders in China, Grandpa is drinking more green tea now. Not just any Chinese tea anymore because of the much touted health benefits of green tea. Most Chinese would drink oolong or jasmine tea but many are abandoning them for something better for their health. The Japanese matcha (green tea) is everywhere now. There is something new in the market. The Japanese and the Koreans are making, promoting and selling green tea noodles around the world. And anything containing green tea is good for your health. “Would you care for a cup of hot green tea?” I offered Grandpa something to drink while I ate my lunch. “Some hot green tea would be fine. Thank you.” We sat at the family dining table next to the kitchen. Out the window, the streets below were alive with people. Life was back to normal after the Chun Jie. “How is life at the university for you?” Grandpa seldom asked me about my life or my studies. To me having raised six children of his own, Grandpa had—what I would label—a laissez-faire approach to his children. My grandparents treated all of them equally, and like plants, they were lucky to grow up strong and healthy without too much parental attention. Because of the one-child policy after the death of Chairman Mao, I was the only son of my parents. And because I am the only son, my parents pay more attention to my welfare and well-being since the day I was born. “Great, Grandpa.” I knew I was not being honest and open about my private life…because my studies were not great but my private life was great. I wished I had paid more attention to my books and professors than to my endless pursuits of leisure and pleasure and sex. To Professor Wang, I am a playboy, a prodigal son, with questionable morality and wasteful spending on drinks, girls, sex, travels and hotels. And more recently I am spending more time visiting the massage parlors in the city for sexual and sensual gratification, and less time with my education and books. To grandpa, I am almost a saint! “I was reading something about today’s many young men in Japan and…” “What did you read?” “Some do not want to leave their apartments and many Japanese parents do not know what to do with them. I fear computers are destroying their lives. And I read some young men are spending time with their favorite digital dolls, not with real people. Recently one young man spent, according to the news in Japan, hundreds of American dollars to celebrate with friends his marriage to his digital doll. What is the world coming to?” grandpa said, with a tinge of wonderment in his voice. Grandpa expressed concerns for them, and also for me. His voice was full of anguish and anxiety for my generation of young people. He watches the news daily and reads the papers to gain some understanding of the world around him. “Grandpa, I know what you are talking about. Japan has all kinds of problems compared to China. For example, Japan is trying to deal with the problem of karoshi, a word to describe a new breed of workers, especially adult males working themselves to death, or overwork. So much so the Japanese government are trying to shut down places of work by 5 or 6 p.m. each day; and now wives are allowed to sue the business company for karoshi.” “I believe karoshi is also happening everywhere in China today,” grandpa shared his thought. “And many are working 6 days a week, not counting coming home late every day.”