The Dairy of Mayan Huang

The Dairy of Mayan Huang

June 21, 1966: “OPEN UP!  I said, OPEN UP! Mayan Huang step outside this instant!” Those were the first couple sentences I heard that day. It was a search in passing. The door was knocked down and five Red Guards wearing green coats and  sowed on red sleeves walked in. The Sleeve said “Red Guards” possibly sown with gold thread. Standing high with their tools, they roamed through my house trashing everything in their search for the four olds. My walls were destroyed, my valuables were stolen, and my privacy was lost.

Its been two days since the search and my house is still trashed. With my kids in America because of the harsh life and my wife locked up because of a make believe crime that she wasn’t involved in, life is a living hell. I work all day and night with only small breaks in between. Were ever I go, I see the eyes of old friends roll away in attempt to ignore me. Since the Cultural Revolution, I’ve lost everything except my beliefs. Mao will never be my hero, and the opinions of others wont put me down. I’ve been beat a lot lately and have been called a black whelp at almost every day of work. Da-zi-bao has become the siding of my house and I'm forced to recite one every day. I’ve been humiliated for too long, but there is nothing I could do. Oh Allah, protect me from the beatings and have my wife return home shortly. Thank you.

June 27, 1966:  Dear Diary, I thought I had seen it all until today. I went to the new built market this afternoon and found a very nice pair of pants which I decided to purchase. I returned home and decided to see what they would feel like once I walked in them. The streets were full and a favorite restaurant of mine was closing so I decided to order there like from the older days. I walked in and that’s when it happened. I was grabbed and thrown against the wall, a bottle was shoved up my leg and that’s when i realized what was happening. My pants were being cut! It turns out that they were too tight and considered four olds. Could this world get any worse?

July 2, 1966: After a long walk in the park, I came across and very large wall with posters everywhere. I had never really payed attention to it before until now. Its known as The Propaganda Wall. The most important events are painted on and as for now, it’s a large painting of Chairman Mao. I returned home with my head down just thinking about unfair life. When will I see my kids again? How about my wife? Will I die alone? I guess I will never know what will happen in the future. I'm just hoping I’ll get through the present.