Inquire into an antique yard, walk through the stele gallery and come to the conference room. There is a pavilion in front of the conference room-Jieyi Pavilion, and there are couplets on two columns of the pavilion. "Rural teachers rely on the strength of their predecessors, and famous schools have their own descendants." I took my colleagues from the literary society to see the scenery in the garden in a hurry, also to find the imprint of reading in my girlhood. East through the conference room, came to the golden hook river. The whole Golden Hook River has been renovated. The Shen Pavilion with cornices is connected with the north-south cloister on the west bank of the river, and the beautiful scenery on both sides of the cloister is more elegant. Willow green by the river and rockery in the pool. The half-pond lotus beside the rockery is in full bloom, and fish are swimming around in the water. Walking past the pavilion, there is another small courtyard. The walls of the white wall are carved with various colors, and the windows leak rain. In the corner of the yard, there is a monument engraved with "the former site of Qixin Middle School in Wuxian Rural Normal School", and there is a moon gate next to it, which reads the three traditional characters of "Rural Normal School". Strolling in the rural teachers' garden, bridges and flowing water, pavilions and pavilions, this is not an institution of learning, but an antique Soviet-style garden!
Walking in the garden, I feel a lot. As time goes by, things change. In the mid-1980s, I came to Huang Dai Middle School to study. I was just a girl of fifteen or sixteen at that time. In a blink of an eye, I reached middle age, and more than 20 years passed in a flash. Jingou River depends on it, but people are not yesterday's people, and the scenery is not yesterday's scenery. The campus is changing with each passing day. Many students graduated, and groups of young people came again. Campus will always be a place full of vitality and dreams. The Jingou River is our classroom. The original bungalow has been transformed into a two-story building, but it still maintains a quaint style. In the past, on the east and west sides of the south gate of the campus were our dormitory and canteen, dormitory, canteen and classroom. These three points and one line are the roads that every student walks the most, and these aisles leave us with a few hurried steps. Eating, sleeping and studying constitute the three primary colors of student life.
In the 1980 s, the school canteen was very simple and the food was simpler. School doesn't provide meals, but meals are brought from home. Each student prepares a lunch box, which is marked, or engraved with his name, his student number, or engraved with various patterns. In short, it can help him find it in the grade lunch box at a very fast speed. But things often happen, and what's more, someone else's lunch box is eaten, which makes this classmate anxious to find his own lunch box for a long time, and finally he dare not eat one or two lonely lunch boxes left on the table. Sometimes if you can't find your own lunch box, there will be no extra lunch in the canteen. It can be seen that some students have eaten the "overlord meal". This kind of headless case often happens, and no one can find it out, and finally it is not clear. The school offers three or four courses every day, and students buy food with food stamps. Most dishes are 10, 20 minutes, and 50 minutes is considered big meat. For students from poor families, buying fifty cents is a luxury. There are two dishes that impressed me the most: baked pickles with tofu and fried oil residue with Chinese cabbage, which cost 10 cents. With the smell of oil residue and oil and water, Chinese cabbage is considered as small fresh meat. Our classroom is near the restaurant by the Golden Hook River. Many times, it is "the first to get the food in the canteen". The boys rushed to the dining hall with the slogan "take a nap in class, eat and charge".
On the east side of the main entrance of the school gate are high school girls' dormitory and teachers' dormitory. The teachers' dormitory is an outer circle. There are families' dormitories with married children, and there are more single teachers' dormitories. The girls' dormitory in the middle is divided into two rows. In the middle is a big yard with a well. I don't know when this building was built, but I remember that the dormitory is rather shabby and seems to be very old. Girls in their twenties often live in a big room, some are classmates, and some are mixed from Grade One to Grade Three. The upper and lower floors of the bed are small iron beds, so it often happens that girls are rolled down in the middle of the night. At that time, there was no toilet in the dormitory, and every dormitory was equipped with a toilet. Every day, two girls are carried to the door by the aunt cleaner to clean up. Because there are many people, toilets are often the hardest hit areas in dormitories. At that time, there was an article "Bonded Labourers" written by Xia Yan in our Chinese textbook, so we compared ourselves to bonded laborers, compared the housekeepers to "Namtson" (Japanese foreman), and the hardships of living conditions were comparable to bonded laborers.
After the evening self-study, the students go back to the dormitory in twos and threes, which is the most lively time in the dormitory. The chirping sound, the clatter of ceramic pot when washing your face and feet, the clatter of eating, the laughter of several people crowded together, and the screams that you can't find anything from time to time ... But time waits for no one, and the school stipulates to turn off the lights. A few students who stayed in the classroom could only sneak into the dormitory with flashlights. At that time, almost every girl was equipped with a flashlight and used it when she walked to the toilet at night. More importantly, she can light the lamp under the bed and read books after turning off the lights at night. Of course, most of the time, she reads the most popular martial arts novels, such as Qiong Yao's romance novels or the condor heroes.
At that time, doing morning exercises every day was a headache for girls. The teacher in charge of morning exercises is a burly old teacher named Shi. Because he is strong and powerful, the students nicknamed him "Tank". Teacher Shi lives in the staff dormitory, which is our only way every day. He is approachable and likes to play jokes on students. He can name many students, so most students are familiar with him. Every day when his whistle rings, we have to get out of bed. There are often girls who are lazy in bed. He found out that the classmates next to her could always help her find some excuses for "physical discomfort" and "special circumstances", and the teacher could do nothing about girls. He is very dedicated. In the morning, he whistled around the dormitory area to see which dormitory was quiet, so he knocked on the door "bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang
After the morning exercise, I went to the canteen to have breakfast. Breakfast is porridge steamed in my lunch box. It is rare to go to Weng's house at the school gate to eat a bowl of 27 cents of Yangchun noodles, which is already a very enjoyable food. After all these years, I remember that the tip of my tongue still smells like onions. Those diligent students get up as early as four or five o'clock and have been working hard for an hour or two on the railing of the Golden Hook River or on the flower bed in front of the classroom. In the first year of high school, we studied in the only four-story new teaching building at that time, and moved to Jinguohe in the second year of high school. It is estimated that the school leaders consider that it is quiet here, which is conducive to the graduating students to study hard and face the college entrance examination. Because at that time, the school was a six-year junior high school, with two classes in Grade One and two classes in Grade Two from science classes to liberal arts classes. I remember that there were about 60 students in each class at that time, most of them came from Huangdai, Dongqiao and huangqiao town, and some of them were borrowed from other towns. There is a tall boy in our liberal arts class who is transferred from Nanjing and is said to be a relative of the principal. Because once he wrote a love letter to a good friend of mine and was deeply moved by a small storm. There is also a painting boy who transferred from Shanghai in his senior year. He looks handsome and gentle, and writes beautifully with a pen. I heard that he is now a painter in Shanghai, but he hasn't seen him since graduation. At that time, the time was always spent in class, class, homework and exams, and always spent in friendship, misunderstanding, quarrel and subtle ambiguity between classmates. It is normal for boys and girls in their prime to have a crush on each other. The deputy monitor of the science class is both a schoolmaster and a handsome boy and a beautiful woman, and their stories are circulated among the students. Whether they are true or not is impossible to prove. That boy later got married in his forties, and I don't know if he was trapped by love, which has become another story. There is another girl in our class who is adopted, so the family found her a boyfriend early and didn't want her to go to college and leave home. Sometimes when a boy comes to see me off, others ask her that her dimple face always turns red and she says she is a cousin. I met her occasionally a few years ago. A man, a woman and two children are almost adults, and they live happily with their cousins. There is also a little boy in our class who is quite literary. Once he cried by the Jingou River after the evening self-study, and a group of boys and girls unconsciously crowded together to comfort him. Later, I heard that it was because he was lovelorn or wronged ... Boys and girls comforted the bud of adolescence through these quietly circulated stories in intense study.
At that time, most of the teachers who taught us were young teachers who were four or five years or six or seven years older than us. Most of them can get along with the students, and some boys actually talk back and forth with their teachers and call them brothers. And girls often say which male teacher is handsome and which male teacher is secretly chasing which female teacher ... Our head teacher has also changed several times. When I graduated, I was a geography teacher as the head teacher. One afternoon, I happened to meet the astronomical wonder "Total Solar Eclipse". The geography teacher asked us to draw ink on our glasses for observation. When the sun was about to be swallowed up, I observed the strange shape of leaves, and then I actually read an article in the newspaper saying "total solar eclipse" leaves. It was a gentle old teacher who taught us Chinese at that time. We secretly abused his class as "the narrative of old Beijing". Once in Baiyangdian's class, the husband of the underground party told his wife to strengthen production when he left. When the boy read this, he gave a vague smile and everyone understood. Once, before self-study in the evening, my good friend, a girl with big eyes, scribbled on the blackboard and wrote my name upside down, deliberately writing "Zhu" as "pig" and turning it into a homophonic "pig manager", which happened to be seen by the math teacher who walked by the window, and her sly eyes smiled like a flower. As a result, the girl was chased by me and hid in the classroom. The teacher's bright smile is still clearly in my memory. Now every time I get together with my friends and talk about the past, I still feel sorry for her in laughter.
The 1980s was the Renaissance era, when the literary thoughts of scar literature, root-seeking literature, misty poetry and stream-of-consciousness writing ... crept into the campus. At that time, there was a popular saying, "If a meteorite falls from the sky and kills ten people, nine of them are poets". Although it is not without exaggeration, it was indeed a great honor to write and even publish articles at that time. We like reading books and writing some sad poems, and I am one of them. Sometimes, when I am alone on the playground or by the Golden Hook River, I often think about metaphysical philosophical issues such as the meaning of life and the value of life. Sometimes a poem appearing on the school blackboard can make people excited for a long time. At that time, pentagonal series, poetry magazines and so on became my favorite reading items, and I often extracted poems or chapters rich in life philosophy from them. I secretly hid my diary under a book and wrote some poems about caution ... Today, these excerpts and diaries are still treasured like treasures. The literary hobby cultivated from middle school has enriched my life experience and nourished my life.
"I read and reread with tears in my eyes, but I have to admit that youth is a book written too hastily"-Xi Murong's words, yes, the bits and pieces of the past left in youth can never be read and written. I left my youth on the bank of the Golden Hook, and my dream is to be a teenager. When I returned to my alma mater, I heard the rhetoric of "I am proud of my school today, and I will be proud of my school tomorrow", but I am only an ordinary member of tens of thousands of students and can't win glory for my alma mater, but I am still proud of my alma mater. "Open half an acre of square pond, the sky is drifting, and the canal is clear as water, and there is flowing water at the source." Jingou River, the river of life of a century-old prestigious school, flows into my heart and into the heart of every middle school student.