1、The Middle Eastern BazaarThe Middle Eastern bazaar takes you back hundreds - even thousands - of years. The one I am thinking of particularly is entered by a Gothic - arched gateway of aged brick and stone. You pass from the heat and glare of a big, open square into a cool, dark cavernwhich extends
2、as far as the eye can see, losing itself in the shadowy distance. Little donkeys with harmoniously tinkling bells thread their way among the throngsof people entering and leaving the bazaar. The roadway is about twelve feet wide, but it is narrowed every few yards by little stalls where goods of eve
3、ry conceivable kind are sold. The din of the stall-holder; crying their wares, of donkey-boys and porters clearing a way for themselves by shouting vigorously, and of would-be purchasers arguing and bargaining is continuous and makes you dizzy.Then as you penetrate deeper into the bazaar, the noise
4、of the entrance fades away, and you come to the muted cloth-market. The earthen floor, beaten hard by countless feet, deadens the sound of footsteps, and the vaulted mud-brick walls and roof have hardly any sounds to echo. The shop-keepers speak in slow, measured tones, and the buyers, overwhelmed b
5、y the sepulchral atmosphere, follow suit .One of the peculiarities of the Eastern bazaar is that shopkeepers dealing in the same kind of goods do not scatter themselves over the bazaar, in order to avoid competition, but collect in the same area, so that purchasers can know where to find them, and s
6、o that they can form a closely knit guild against injustice or persecution . In the cloth-market, for instance, all the sellers of material for clothes, curtains, chair covers and so on line the roadway on both sides, each open-fronted shop having a trestle trestle table for display and shelves for
7、storage. Bargaining is the order of the cay, and veiled women move at a leisurely pace from shop to shop, selecting, pricing and doing a little preliminary bargaining before they narrow down their choice and begin the really serious business of beating the price down.It is a point of honour with the
8、 customer not to let the shopkeeper guess what it is she really likes and wants until the last moment. If he does guess correctly, he will price the item high, and yield little in the bargaining. The seller, on the other hand, makes a point of protesting that the price he is charging is depriving hi
9、m of all profit, and that he is sacrificing this because of his personal regard for the customer. Bargaining can go on the whole day, or even several days, with the customer coming and going at intervals .One of the most picturesque and impressive parts of the bazaar is the copper-smiths market. As
10、you approach it, a tinkling and banging and clashing begins to impinge on your ear. It grows louder and more distinct, until you round a corner and see a fairyland of dancing flashes, as the burnished copper catches the light of innumerable lamps and braziers . In each shop sit the apprentices boys
11、and youths, some of them incredibly young hammering away at copper vessels of all shapes and sizes, while the shop-owner instructs, and sometimes takes a hand with a hammer himself. In the background, a tiny apprentice blows a bi-, charcoal fir e with a huge leather bellowsworked by a string attache
12、d to his big toe - the red of the live coals glowing, bright and then dimming rhythmicallyto the strokes of the bellows.Here you can find beautiful pots and bowls engrave with delicate and intricate traditional designs, or the simple, everyday kitchenware used in this country, pleasing in form, but
13、undecorated and strictly functional. Elsewhere there is the carpet-market, with its profusion of rich colours, varied textures and regional designs - some bold and simple, others unbelievably detailed and yet harmonious. Then there is the spice-market, with its pungentand exotic smells; and the food
14、-market, where you can buy everything you need for the most sumptuous dinner, or sit in a tiny restaurant with porters and apprentices and eat your humble bread and cheese. The dye-market, the pottery-market and the carpenters market lie elsewhere in the maze of vaulted streets which honeycomb this
15、bazaar. Every here and there, a doorway gives a glimpse of a sunlit courtyard, perhaps before a mosque or a caravanserai , where camels lie disdainfully chewing their hay, while the great bales of merchandise they have carried hundreds of miles across the desert lie beside them.Perhaps the most unfo
16、rgettable thing in the bazaar, apart from its general atmosphere, is the place where they make linseed oil. It is a vast, sombre cavern of a room, some thirty feet high and sixty feet square, and so thick with the dust of centuries that the mudbrick walls and vaulted roof are only dimly visible. In
17、this cavern are three massive stone wheels, each with a huge pole through its centre as an axle. The pole is attached at the one end to an upright post, around which it can revolve, and at the other to a blind-folded camel, which walks constantly in a circle, providing the motive power to turn the s
18、tone wheel. This revolves in a circular stone channel, into which an attendant feeds linseed. The stone wheel crushes it to a pulp, which is then pressed to extract the oil .The camels are the largest and finest I have ever seen, and in superb condition muscular, massive and stately.The pressing of
19、the linseed pulp to extract the oil is done by a vast ramshackle apparatus of beams and ropes and pulleys which towers to the vaulted ceiling and dwarfs the camels and their stone wheels. The machine is operated by one man, who shovels the linseed pulp into a stone vat, climbs up nimbly to a dizzy h
20、eight to fasten ropes, and then throws his weight on to a great beam made out of a tree trunk to set the ropes and pulleys in motion. Ancient girders girders creak and groan , ropes tighten and then a trickle of oil oozes oozes down a stone runnel into a used petrol can. Quickly the trickle becomes
21、a flood of glistening linseed oil as the beam sinks earthwards, taut and protesting, its creaks blending with the squeaking and rumbling of the grinding-wheels and the occasional grunts and sighs of the camels. (from Advanced Comprehension and Appreciation pieces, 1962 )NOTES1) This piece is taken f
22、rom Advanced Comprehension and Appreciation Pieces, compiled for overseas students by L. A. Hill and D.J. May, published by Oxford University Press, Hong Kong, 1962.2) Middle East: generally referring to the area from Afghanistan to Egypt, including the Arabian Peninsula, Cyprus, and Asiatic Turkey.
23、3) Gothic: a style of architecture originated in N. France in 11th century, characterized by pointed arches, ribbed vaulting, steep, high roofs, etc.4) veiled women: Some Moslems use the veil-more appropriately, the purdah - to seclude or hide their women from the eyes of strangers.5) caravanserai (
24、caravansary): in the Middle East, a kind of inn with a large central court, where bands of merchants or pilgrims, together with their camels or horses, stay for shelter and refreshmentHiroshima - the “Liveliest”City in Japan Jacques Danvoir“Hiroshima! Everybody off!” That must be what the man in the
25、 Japanese stationmasters uniform shouted, as the fastest train in the world slipped to a stop in Hiroshima Station. I did not understand what he was saying. First of all, because he was shouting in Japanese. And secondly, because I had a lump in my throat and a lot of sad thoughts on my mind that ha
26、d little to do with anything a Nippon railways official might say. The very act of stepping on this soil, in breathing this air of Hiroshima, was for me a far greater adventure than any trip or any reportorial assignment Id previously taken. Was I not at the scene of the crime?The Japanese crowd did
27、 not appear to have the same preoccupations that I had. From the sidewalk outside the station, things seemed much the same as in other Japanese cities. Little girls and elderly ladies in kimonos rubbed shoulders with teenagers and women in western dress. Serious looking men spoke to one another as i
28、f they were oblivious of the crowds about them, and bobbed up and down re-heatedly in little bows, as they exchanged the ritual formula of gratitude and respect: “Tomo aligato gozayimas.“ Others were using little red telephones that hung on the facades of grocery stores and tobacco shops.“Hi! Hi!“ s
29、aid the cab driver, whose door popped open at the very sight of a traveler. “Hi“, or something that sounds very much like it, means “yes“. “Can you take me to City Hall?“ He grinned at me in the rear-view mirror and repeated “Hi!“ “Hi! We set off at top speed through the narrow streets of Hiroshima.
30、 The tall buildings of the martyred city flashed by as we lurched from side to side in response to the drivers sharp twists of the wheel.Just as I was beginning to find the ride long, the taxi screeched to a halt, and the driver got out and went over to a policeman to ask the way. As in Tokyo, taxi
31、drivers in Hiroshima often know little of their city, but to avoid loss of face before foreigners, will not admit their ignorance, and will accept any destination without concern for how long it may take them to find it.At last this intermezzo came to an end, and I found myself in front of the gigan
32、tic City Hall. The usher bowed deeply and heaved a long, almost musical sigh, when I showed him the invitation which the mayor had sent me in response to my request for an interview. “That is not here, sir,“ he said in English. “The mayor expects you tonight for dinner with other foreigners or, the
33、restaurant boat. See? This is where it is.” He sketched a little map for me on the back of my invitation.Thanks to his map, I was able to find a taxi driver who could take me straight to the canal embankment , where a sort of barge with a roof like one on a Japanese house was moored . The Japanese b
34、uild their traditional houses on boats when land becomes too expensive. The rather arresting spectacle of little old Japan adrift adrift amid beige concrete skyscrapers is the very symbol of the incessant struggle between the kimono and the miniskirt.At the door to the restaurant, a stunning, porcel
35、ain-faced woman in traditional costume asked me to remove my shoes. This done, I entered one of the low-ceilinged rooms of the little floating house, treading cautiously on the soft matting and experiencing a twingeof embarrassment at the prospect of meeting the mayor of Hiroshima in my socks.He was
36、 a tall, thin man, sad-eyed and serious. Quite unexpectedly, the strange emotion which had overwhelmed me at the station returned, and I was again crushed by the thought that I now stood on the site of the first atomic bombardment, where thousands upon thousands of people had been slainin one second
37、, where thousands upon thousands of others had lingered on to die in slow agony .The introductions were made. Most of the guests were Japanese, and it was difficult for me to ask them just why we were gathered here. The few Americans and Germans seemed just as inhibitedas I was. “Gentlemen,“ said th
38、e mayor, “I am happy to welcome you to Hiroshima.“Everyone bowed, including the Westerners. After three days in Japan, the spinal column becomes extraordinarily flexible.“Gentlemen, it is a very great honor to have you her e in Hiroshima.“There were fresh bows, and the faces grew more and more serio
39、us each time the name Hiroshima was repeated.“Hiroshima, as you know, is a city familiar to everyone,” continued the mayor.“Yes, yes, of course,” murmured the company, more and more agitated.“Seldom has a city gained such world renown, and I am proud and happy to welcome you to Hiroshima, a town kno
40、wn throughout the world for its- oysters“. I was just about to make my little bow of assent, when the meaning of these last words sank in, jolting me out of my sad reverie .“Hiroshima oysters? What about the bomb and the misery and humanitys most heinous crime?“ While the mayor went on with his spee
41、ch in praise of southern Japanese sea food, I cautiously backed away and headed toward the far side of the room, where a few men were talking among themselves and paying little attention to the mayors speech. “You look puzzled,“ said a small Japanese man with very large eye-glasses.“Well, I must con
42、fess that I did not expect a speech about oysters here. I thought that Hiroshima still felt the impact of the atomic impact .“No one talks about it any more, and no one wants to, especially, the people who were born here or who lived through it. “Do you feel the same way, too?“I was here, but I was
43、not in the center of town. I tell you this because I am almost an old man. There are two different schools of thought in this city of oysters, one that would like to preserve traces of the bomb, and the other that would like to get rid of everything, even the monument that was erected at the point o
44、f impact. They would also like to demolish the atomic museum.“Why would they want to do that?“Because it hurts everybody, and because time marches on. That is why.“ The small Japanese man smiled, his eyes nearly closed behind their thick lenses. “If you write about this city, do not forget to say th
45、at it is the gayest city in Japan, even it many of the towns people still bear hidden wounds, and burns.“Like any other, the hospital smelled of formaldehyde and ethere . Stretchers and wheelchairs lined the walls of endless corridors, and nurses walked by carrying Stretchers instruments, the very s
46、ight of which would send shivers down the spine of any healthy visitor. The so-called atomic section was located on the third floor. It consisted of 17 beds.“I am a fisherman by trade. I have been here a very long time, more than twenty years, “said an old man in Japanese pajamas. “What is wrong wit
47、h you?”“Something inside. I was in Hiroshima when it happened. I saw the fire ball. But I had no burns on my face or body. I ran all over the city looking for missing friends and relatives. I thought somehow I had been spared. But later my hair began to fall out, and my belly turned to water. I felt
48、 sick, and ever since then they have been testing and treating me. “ The doctor at my side explained and commented upon the old mans story, “We still hare a handful of patients here who are being kept alive by constant car e. The other s died as a result of their injuries, or else committed suicide
49、. “Why did they commit suicide?“It is humiliating to survive in this city. If you bear any visible scars of atomic burns, your children will encounter prejudice on the par t of those who do not. No one will marry the daughter or the niece of an atomic bomb victim. People are afraid of genetic damage from the radiation.“ The old fisherman gazed at me politely and with interest.Hanging over the patient was a big ball made of bits of brightly colored paper, folded into the shape of tiny birds. “Whats that?“ I asked.“Those are my lucky birds. Each day
