The City: Beijing 北京城 by Ai WeiWei

在NPR上看到艾未未 (Ai WeiWei) 的文章，

剛好跟這陣子看的電影與書籍相關，於是我找出了他對於北京的描述，

從一位中國本土藝術家眼裡來看北京，我想他的觀察是很直接的，也有一定程度的參考價值，

勇敢的聲音該被更多人聽見，所以我很雞婆的幫他做了翻譯，

一個人也好，十個人也好，多一個人聽到他的聲音，他就多一份力量。


Beijing is two cities. One is of power and of money. People don’t care who their neighbors are; they don’t trust you. The other city is one of desperation. I see people on public buses, and I see their eyes, and I see they hold no hope. They can’t even imagine that they’ll be able to buy a house. They come from very poor villages where they’ve never seen electricity or toilet paper.
北京是座雙城，一座關乎權和錢，人們不在乎他們鄰居是誰，而且不信任人；另一座叫絕望，在公車上，凝視人們眼中，我看不到他們懷抱任何希望，甚至不敢奢望有天能買到棲身之地，因為他們來自沒有電力與廁紙的貧窮鄉村。
Every year millions come to Beijing to build its bridges, roads, and houses. Each year they build a Beijing equal to the size of the city in 1949. They are Beijing’s slaves. They squat in illegal structures, which Beijing destroys as it keeps expanding. Who owns houses? Those who belong to the government, the coal bosses, the heads of big enterprises. They come to Beijing to give gifts—and the restaurants and karaoke parlors and saunas are very rich as a result.
每年，上百萬的農民工來到北京造橋、鋪路、蓋樓房，每年所建設的面積相當於1949年時整個北京的大小，他們成了北京的奴隸，擠身在違法建築中，而這些暫時的居所成了北京不斷擴張的犧牲品。那到底誰擁有這些樓房？你也許會想問。政府高幹、礦坑老闆、企業總裁，他們來到北京送禮套關係，因此高級餐廳、卡拉OK、美容院、三溫暖也順勢賺飽了口袋。
Beijing tells foreigners that they can understand the city, that we have the same sort of buildings: the Bird’s Nest, the CCTV tower. Officials who wear a suit and tie like you say we are the same and we can do business. But they deny us basic rights. You will see migrants’ schools closed. You will see hospitals where they give patients stitches—and when they find the patients don’t have any money, they pull the stitches out. It’s a city of violence.
北京當局告訴外國人，這座城市很好懂，因為我們有類似的建築，像是鳥巢體育館與中央電視台大樓。西裝筆挺的一群官員口裡掛著，我們都一樣，可以合做生意。但是，這些官員連人民基本權利都剝奪走，農民工孩子學校被收掉，正在幫傷患縫針的醫護人員，一發現傷患沒錢，當場狠狠將縫線拆掉，這是座弱肉強食的城市。
The worst thing about Beijing is that you can never trust the judicial system. Without trust, you cannot identify anything; it’s like a sandstorm. You don’t see yourself as part of the city—there are no places that you relate to, that you love to go. No corner, no area touched by a certain kind of light. You have no memory of any material, texture, shape. Everything is constantly changing, according to somebody else’s will, somebody else’s power.
在北京，最糟的是你無法相信司法，失去了信任，一切就像在沙塵暴中，找不著頭緒，你不認為自己歸屬於這座城，所有的地方都跟你沒有聯結，更別談最愛溜搭的角落，沒有一個角落或區域是被某種光線觸動；對於城市中任何物質、質感、形狀，你都沒有特別回憶。因為每件事都不斷改變，因著某人的意思，或某人的權勢而改變。
To properly design Beijing, you’d have to let the city have space for different interests, so that people can coexist, so that there is a full body to society. A city is a place that can offer maximum freedom. Otherwise it’s incomplete.
想將北京設計好，必須在城市中容納不同的利益團體，人們才能共存，社會才得以完整，一座城市應該能給予市民完全的自由，否則就稱不上是座城市。
I feel sorry to say I have no favorite place in Beijing. I have no intention of going anywhere in the city. The places are so simple. You don't want to look at a person walking past because you know exactly what's on his mind. No curiosity. And no one will even argue with you.
很遺憾，在北京我並沒有喜歡去的地方，我沒興趣在市區晃，每個地方都很相像，你甚至不會想看看路人，因為你深知他們的想法，甚至沒有人願意花力氣和你爭論。
None of my art represents Beijing. The Bird's Nest—I never think about it. After the Olympics, the common folks don't talk about it because the Olympics did not bring joy to the people.
我的作品從不代表北京政權，我從不認為鳥巢體育館代表北京，在奧運後，沒有人繼續談論這項作品，因為奧運並沒有如預期般，將快樂帶給人們。
There are positives to Beijing. People still give birth to babies. There are a few nice parks. Last week I walked in one, and a few people came up to me and gave me a thumbs up or patted me on the shoulder. Why do they have to do that in such a secretive way? No one is willing to speak out. What are they waiting for? They always tell me, "Weiwei, leave the nation, please." Or "Live longer and watch them die." Either leave, or be patient and watch how they die. I really don't know what I'm going to do.
在北京，還是有些好事，像是人們還敢生小孩，市區也有些不錯的公園，上星期我去了其中一座，有些人向我走來，對我比了個手勢或者拍拍我的肩膀幫我加油，為什麼他們必須偷偷的做這些事？大家都噤聲，大家在等待著什麼呢？大家總告訴我，：「未未，出國吧。」或者「一定要活著然後看政府死去。」要不就得離開中國，不然就得耐心等待政府垮台，我真不知道該怎麼選擇。
My ordeal made me understand that on this fabric, there are many hidden spots where they put people without identity. With no name, just a number. They don’t care where you go, what crime you committed. They see you or they don’t see you, it doesn’t make the slightest difference. There are thousands of spots like that. Only your family is crying out that you’re missing. But you can’t get answers from the street communities or officials, or even at the highest levels, the court or the police or the head of the nation. My wife has been writing these kinds of petitions every day, making phone calls to the police station every day. Where is my husband? Just tell me where my husband is. There is no paper, no information.
我經歷過的苦難讓我了解，有許許多多不為人知，沒有身分的人，他們沒有名字，只有個號碼，沒有人在乎你到哪去，犯了什麼罪，你存不存在，這些，跟大家一點關係都沒有。有數以千計的人像我這樣，只有家人會為你的失蹤感到緊張難過，但你無法從街坊鄰居或是官員那裏得到答案，甚至在法院、警察或國家主席口中，你都無法得到解答。我太太一直不斷的為我請命，每天打電話給警局，詢問，我老公去哪了？告訴我他在哪裡就好。沒有任何文件或訊息記載著我到哪去了。
The strongest character of those spaces is that they’re completely cut off from your memory or anything you’re familiar with. You’re in total isolation. And you don’t know how long you’re going to be there, but you truly believe they can do anything to you. There’s no way to even question it. You’re not protected by anything. Why am I here? Your mind is very uncertain of time. You become like mad. It’s very hard for anyone. Even for people who have strong beliefs.
城市空間的特點就是，你完全沒有相關的回憶，也不熟悉，像完全被孤立，不知道要持續多久，但卻毫無疑問地深知，政府可以對你為所欲為，人民完全沒有安全感。為什麼我在這裡？感受不到時間流動，像瘋了一樣，誰都無法忍受，甚至那些有堅強信念的人也無法承受。
This city is not about other people or buildings or streets but about your mental structure. If we remember what Kafka writes about his Castle, we get a sense of it. Cities really are mental conditions. Beijing is a nightmare. A constant nightmare.
這座城市無關人、建築、或街道，是關乎你的心理結構，如果記得卡夫卡的城堡，就能體會我所說的，城市就是你心理的狀態，北京是個噩夢，持續的噩夢。

Reference: Newsweek Magazine
http://www.thedailybeast.com/newsweek/2011/08/28/ai-weiwei-on-beijing-s-nightmare-city.html