The screen lit up, and a video link across the Pacific Ocean connected a living room in Springfield, Missouri, USA, with the ancient city of Dangar at the eastern foot of the Tibetan Plateau.
In the early winter of November, the wind in Huangyuan was a bit bit cold, and the eyes of the 95-year-old David Bai on the other end of the video line were as warm as ever. When he saw Wang Shikang, his long-time friend and former president of Huangyuan County People's Hospital, through the screen, this American old man with blue eyes and a high nose had slightly red eyes, and what he blurted out was an authentic Huangyuan dialect: "I miss everyone."
At this moment, transnational boundaries melt away in the face of nostalgia, leaving only the wanderer’s most instinctive attachment to his homeland.
In 1932, David Bai, who had just turned one year old, traveled across the ocean to Huangyuan with his father Bai Limei, and spent 18 years here. At that time, Bai Limei built a small building combining Chinese and Western styles on the south side of the ancient city of Dangar, and opened a medical clinic to help the world. In an era when antibiotics were scarce, Bailimei provided free diagnosis and treatment to poor people. It even opened its doors to protect the fleeing residents during times of war, and was regarded by the locals as "one of its own." This kindness deeply rooted in the soil nourished David Bo's childhood. The bluestones of the ancient city are engraved with his running footprints, the Huangshui River echoes with his playful laughter, and the "sour chirp" (sea buckthorn fruit) in the black thorn forest has become an eternal nostalgia deep in his taste buds.
After returning to the United States, David Bo never forgot the nurturing grace of this land and water. In order to prevent his native accent from fading, he practiced Huangyuan dialect alone in front of the mirror on the other side of the ocean. This persistence is condensed in his treasured picture album "Imprints". This picture album contains precious old photos taken by his father Bai Limei in Huangyuan, truly recording the social scene of the ancient city of Dangar in the last century. Today, the ancient city of Dangar insists on "repairing the old as before" during protective restoration. Many architectural details refer to the image data in "Imprint", allowing the historical charm of a hundred years ago to be reproduced.
This not forgetting turns into the power of action. After returning to his hometown after decades of absence in 1987, David Bo saw the poor medical conditions in his hometown and vowed to do something practical about it. In more than 30 years, he traveled to China and the United States more than 20 times, worked tirelessly to raise funds, and donated more than 30 pieces of advanced medical equipment such as CT machines, color B-ultrasounds, and electronic gastroscopes to Huangyuan County People's Hospital, with a total value of 6.2 million yuan.
At the donation ceremony in 2000, David Bo bowed deeply to a CT machine and implored it to "serve the people in his hometown well." It is this piety and love that gives countless critically ill patients hope of treatment at their doorsteps, and also significantly improves the medical conditions of Huangyuan and surrounding people.
Nowadays, David Bai can no longer physically set foot on this land due to his old age, but his heart has never left. During the video link, when he heard the blessings from the folks in Huangyuan and learned that the ancient city of Dangar had been restored to its original state based on the old photos taken by his father, his face showed an innocent smile like a child. He talked about grabbing mutton and Huangyuan sauerkraut, and asked if the weather was getting colder. His concern was as if he had never left this small town at the foot of Riyue Mountain.
The relationship between countries lies in the affinity between people. The story of David Bai is a warm and tenacious wave in the long river of friendly exchanges between China and the United States. He spent his life explaining that his hometown does not need to be bound by nationality, and true love can transcend the barriers of mountains and seas. In the long-circulated nursery rhyme "American foreigners have big noses and they eat Chinese stuffed rice", David Bo's Chinese nostalgia has turned into a bridge connecting the peoples of the two countries, shining brightly in the long river of time.
