Questions ask Questions - Ice Girl

Chapter 2.

Red dust town turned windy. Swirling quality gem stone particles and degrees of indifference spiraled through air. Redwood slats covered open sewer drains.

Locals in Banlung, Cambodia watched Leo with curiosity and suspicion. They stared from a deep vacuum. When he made eye contact they glanced away with fear, uncertainty and doubt. They didn’t see many strangers here. They listened at 49% or less saying yeah, yeah with panache.

Leo discovered his quest-ions were constantly repeated.

Quest-ions grew tired of repeating themselves.

This is so fucking boring, said one quest-ion. We are abused. We are manipulated and rendered mute. Useless.

Think of it as a test, said another quest-ion. Patience is our great teacher.

I’ll try, said another quest-ion.

Yes, said a quest-ion these non-listeners have a distinct tendency to say more and say it louder when they’re leaving, when their back’s turned away from eye contact and potential real communication.

I’ve seen that too, said a quest-ion, who, until this moment had remained silent. My theory is that it’s because of the genocide and fear. 

It’s also a delicate mixture of stupidity or indifference, said another quest-ion. Why is the most dangerous quest-ion, said one.

Can you explain, asked a quest-ion.

Sure, people ran away to survive. People started running and others would ask them a quest-ion like why are you running, who’s chasing you, where are you going or what’s the matter or when did you become afraid or why don’t you stay longer and the one running would keep going trailing abstract quest-ion words behind them like memories or disembodied spirits or molecules of indifferent breath.

I see, said a quest-ion. That explains it.

Yes, said a quest-ion. Being correct is never the point.

Tell me why oh my. How did I grow?

Ice Girl in Banlung

 

Chinese Education System

In China everyone is safe, happy and well adjusted, Leo said to Ice Girl one torrid day in Banlung, Cambodia.

They sat on an operating table next to a sewing machine and an umbrella.

I cut, you talk, she said. A drop of sweat from her nose landed on a block of ice.

It’s called THE SYSTEM, he said. Brainwashed. You see this in all Asian educational systems. Laconic students shuffle in, remove their brains, soak them in a cleaning solution, which is not the solution for fifty tedious minutes and replace said gray matter at the end of class. It’s endemic.

Big Brother is always watching you.

Save face.

The fear of public humiliation is greater than the fear of death.

Intention is karma.

Tell me about your life in China, said Ice Girl.

After completing five years of a night soil shit job in the Re-Education Through Labor experience for questioing Authority I visited my family graves in Sichuan. I offered prayers and burned incense. I prayed for strength, courage and humility. Then I walked east. Fortune smiled on me.

I worked as a facilitator at a private business university in Fujian with 15,000 replicants.

I faced eighty stone-faced freshmen in a long cement tomb. It was a required speaking class. Desks were bolted to the floor in groups of four. They had year zero English skills. I gave two a test. How are you, I asked a boy. I am 18. How old are you, I asked a girl. I’m fine, and you?

I paired eighty off, boy girl, boy girl. They didn’t like this. They got used to it.

Will someone please share a story?

A girl raised her hand.

The less I do the less likely I am to make mistakes and the fewer mistakes I make the less I am criticized then I feel no shame.

It’s easier to do nothing, said one clever robot.

Correct, I said, you’ve both expressed the essence of your cultural and intellectual education.

That’s a long sentence filled with verbs and significant philosophy said Ice Girl, waving a Blue Zircon reflecting 10,000 things in an elegant universe. Don’t let school interfere with your education. Say more about Becoming.

Ice Girl in Banlung