James Poy Wong 黃培正
"They are the ones who escaped here with the privilege of being the riches, and they can freely fly back and forth. I can’t help thinking of Wong Loy who threatened to jump off the Immigration building, those being locked up inside the building, and those overseas Chinese in China who were not allowed to board the ship."
"The Riches Entering My Home" - 1949
豪门进我屋里来
记得在今年五月我最不愿意迁居的时候，给屋主驱逐了出来。 幸得朋友的介绍，在离华埠中心十多个街位处，找到了一间房子睡觉。
从前在华埠居住的时候，住的是尾房，面积不及八十方尺, 黑暗得有点可怕, 而且不知道那里飞来的大点尘埃，更时时嗅着不知是什么的恶味，这里日夜不分, 我曾称之为 “自己的坟墓”。 新居也是尾房，但是比前大了一倍以上。 墙的一边尽是窗户, 对望隣屋的花园，有花有果有鱼塘。 白天看见广阔的蔚蓝色的天空，夜里逢着晴朗, 星星和月亮都不客气地把光线射进我的房子来, 明亮得几乎可以阅书，很有诗意。 晨早总是给雀儿唤醒的。 初来时，四点半钟一过后，第一次鸟声就兴奋地响起来，有点像军营晨号的喇叭声，不觉得疲倦，每天如是。
这里是幽静而带和平的气氛。
前房住着一位由中国来读书的青年。 他为人沈静，一向相安无事。 我们这屋子里几个人，有点像修道院的教徒一样。 他是华南首富的孙儿。
这位青年最近说他的母亲和他的两个妹妹要从中国飞来，暂在此居住。 当他们母女三人从中国走共产来到的时候，这间屋就开始震动起来。 前房和后房相距至少有三四十尺，平常连呼唤也几乎听不清楚的，现在他们的说话和唱半桶水的美国流行歌声，好像是从扩音筒播出来似的。 不论是清晨还是午夜，连玻璃窗也几乎震动起来。
初到时，她们好像是整天整夜地占据着厨房和洗身房。 我被迫着要跑出餐馆吃餐。 想洗身也要等候一小时。
他们在中国使唤的工人有五个，所以来这里连饭都不会煑，什么饭餸都烧壊了。 不知她们的手腕是否截了骨，碰着东西跌个不休。 铁㷛满地摆，用完的却不洗，到处一团糟，到处一阵臭气。 用过的厨房又污又湿，水槽满了垃圾，塞了， 垃圾桶满了不倒，水制关不紧，滴个不停。 几条抹碗布被烧焦了一些，湿湿地堆在水槽板上。 用过的洗身房满地水浸，用过的厕所总是不冲水。 现在我每拉开了没有关上的厕所门，总提心会拼着一个坐在马桶上的女人。
谁说贫穷的人才是污秽的呢？ 我不由想起了那些不配住房屋而又强霸了许多许多房屋的人来。
我又不能不想起与人相处的通常的礼貌来。
据说女儿读书去了。 做母亲的到底离不了那些使唤的人，觉得没法再在这里受苦下去，快要飞回香港了。
他们是以豪门的资格来此避难。 他们可以自由地飞来飞去。 我不能不想起了欲跳楼的黄来，和困在移民局里，及在中国等着上不得船的华侨。
这差别只是在过去时代中所遗下的特殊利益。 现在这特殊阶级在动摇了， 在倒塌中了。 我不明白以往被压迫的人们，为什么还想去保存这种特殊的利益，更有受愚的，却为这剥削他们的强力去白白牺牲。 那最可鄙和可憎的，要为这特殊利益摇旗呐喊的人。
The Riches Entering My Home
I remember it was May this year when I was most unwilling to move, my landlord chased me out. Fortunately, with a friend’s referral I found a bedroom in a house more than ten blocks from the center of Chinatown.
Where I formerly lived in Chinatown, it was at the end of the building, a room no more than 80 square feet in area. It was quite scary and dark. Moreso, I never knew where the heavy dust came from, and constantly, I had to smell an indiscernible foul odor. There is no distinction between day and night here. I had called this place “My Own Grave.” The new residence is also a tail-end room, but it is more than twice as big. On one side of the wall is a window that faces the neighbor’s back garden with flowers, fruit trees and a fish pond. During the day I can see the vast blue sky, and when the night is clear, both the moon and stars unrestrictedly shine their lights into my room. The moon is so bright I can almost read under it, revealing a poetic mood. In the morning, I am always awakened by the sounds of the birds. When I first came here, I found the first batch of birds started to sound off in high spirits just past four thirty. They were a little similar to the bugle sound in the army camp. I don’t feel tired of it, and it is so delightful every day.
The atmosphere here is quiet and peaceful.
The front room is occupied by a young man from China coming here to study. He is a quiet person, and we live in peace with each other. The few of us living in this house are a little like monks in a monastery. He is one of the grandsons of the richest man in southern China.
This young man said his mother and two sisters will recently fly from China and will temporarily live here. When the three running away from communist China arrived here, this house began to shake up. The front room and the backroom are separated by at least thirty to forty feet, and usually one could hardly hear clearly when someone is calling. But now when they talk or play some second-rated American popular songs, the sounds are like coming out of an audio amplifier. No matter if it was early morning or midnight, even the windows seemed to be shaking too.
After they arrived, the kitchen and the bathroom seemed to be occupied by them all day and all night. I am forced to go out to eat at a restaurant, and I have to wait an hour when I want to wash up.
They had five servants to order around in China, so after they came here they didn't even know how to cook rice, and all the rice and food were burned. I don’t know whether their wrists were fractured; everything they touched had dropped endlessly. The cooking pots were all over the floor, and they were not washed after use. Everything was a mess, and everywhere stank. When they finished using the kitchen, the floor was dirty and wet. The sink was piled up with garbage; the waste basket was full without being emptied. The faucet was not shut tight and continued dripping, and several wet dish towels with burn marks were stacked up on the sink counter. The bathroom floor was full of water and the toilet was not flushed after they used it. Now when I open the unlocked toilet door I always fear running into a woman sitting on the potty.
Who can say poor people are the ones filthy? I can’t help thinking about those who don’t deserve to live in a house but have forcefully occupied many people's houses.
I also think of common courtesy between people dealing with each other.
I hear that the daughters have gone to school, while the mother cannot afterall be separated from those she had ordered around and feels she no longer can continue suffering here and will soon fly back to Hong Kong.
They are the ones who escaped here with the privilege of being the riches, and they can freely fly back and forth. I can’t help thinking of Wong Loy who threatened to jump off the Immigration building, those being locked up inside the building, and those overseas Chinese in China who were not allowed to board the ship.
These differences are just the privilege left from the past era. Now this privileged class is shaking up and is in the process of collapsing. I do not understand why those who were oppressed in the past would still want to preserve such kind of privilege. There are those who were fooled into sacrificing themselves in vain for the power that exploited them. Those who wave flags and shout battle cries for these privileged are the most despicable and repulsive.