Post by LUCILLE CORALIE BOUSQUET on May 28, 2013 19:11:49 GMT -5
lucille coralie bousquet. twenty-five. citizen. ziyi zhang.
Birth Name: Li Qiang-Song
Adopted Name: Lucille Coralie Bousquet
LIKES: Chinese Culture, Dancing, Fans, Comradeship, Family, Performing, Listening, The Dark,
DISLIKES Travelling, Mylie, Taverns, Sleeping On Hard Floors, The Smell Of Stale Ale, Heights, Cleaning,
THE MEMOIRS
My family had always travelled, from a young toddler in my mother’s arms I recall visiting many different countries, each one with different customs that appeared so strange to me in my young years. We travelled across Europe (my family left China before I was born), a dream of my fathers, to see the world and seek out a better future for his family. Travelling sales peddlers were not uncommon and in my adult years I would often visit the Indian Spice sellers and Chinese herbal doctors. My world changed often, I was the youngest in my family Li Qiang-Song they called me. Then there were my brothers Li Tian and Li Jian, my mother and father and my grandfather. We travelled together, first to Mongolia then Russia, the Ukraine, Poland, Germany then finally France. Each journey was different, held different memories for me. Sometimes I was scared others I was excited to see the new buildings and streets peering over my father’s shoulder as we moved our small amount of belongings to a new home.
My parents were herbal doctors, a skill passed down throughout our family and that ensured we were always fed and clothed. I recalled a wide range of people visiting our lodgings each hoping my parents held the key to curing their illnesses. I was very close to my grandfather, who taught me aspects of our Chinese culture. Never forget who you are and where you are from, he would tell me, producing a set of orate Chinese fans.
I learnt the art of the fan dance, my Grandfather said I had a gift for dance and soon I was able to toss the fans high into the air and catch them with all the grace of a well-trained dancer. I passed the time practising this in our small home and learning my lessons as my parents tried to earn us a living.
Times were hard in Paris, everyone knew it and Grandfather was starting to grow weak. My parents worried by the state of our income wanted move us to a new country, they heard tales of rich Aristocrats in England who paid well for the type of herbal medicine my parents could provide. As Grandfather was too weak to travel, my parents left my older brother Jian Li and I to look after him, taking Tian Li with them they hoped to get a boat across the channel to England, where they planned to send us money back to pay for our lodgings.
I was just ten years of age when my Grandfather died, our money was running out and we had heard no word from our parents. Desperation ceased us as we found ourselves living on the streets of Paris, with only my fans and my dancing to earn us money.
It was a lucky day indeed when we came across Le Corbiers a troop who travelled about earning money for the acts they performed. We became members of the troop, while my brother helped with anything he could I joined the acts. They called me Qiang-Song the fan girl and I soon became an attraction in the troop. I opened a window to the people of France, to an exotic new world away from the poverty of the streets.
Things were better although I greatly missed my parents, my brother had tried to track them down, but it seemed they were lost to the world. I was growing up fast and beginning to find my footing in this new world. The troop christened me Lucille Coralie Bousquet a French name that anchored me to them, Qiang-Song became a character I played when performing and I soon forgot the young girl I had once been.
I was sixteen when cholera hit the streets; my brother was one of the unfortunate souls that caught the disease. Sixty-eight hours after we diagnosed the disease, he died. There was nothing anyone could do and I descended into a pit of despair. He was my safety blanket in this strange world and I no longer had him.
I continued working for the troop; I discovered using ground white rice I could paint my face like the ladies on my fan, adding to the theatrics of my act. I’d met a travelling Chinese peddler and traded for a cotton Beizi styled piece of clothing. It was worn and losing its colour but was perfect.
I was twenty when Alain brought Mylie into the troop; she was much younger than me and had had a talent for walking high ropes. Such a death defying act quickly made people forget about Qiang-Song the fan girl. They called her the La Fille Volante, the flying girl and people came for miles to see her tottering on a rope. Although I still had my act, the loss of my position as such a popular act hit me hard. I’d already lost so much and now I was fading into the background, because of this one little girl. It had not escaped my notice that she seemed to become a close friend of Alain’s and he chose her above everyone else to accompany him on excursions outside of the troop.
Jealousy and bitterness overwhelmed me; I was trapped in a world I could not escape, for if I did no doubt starvation would ensue. There were whispers throughout camp, suggestions that something was going on, the troop were on edge knowing that something wasn’t right. I watched from afar as the troop fell apart and Alain was arrested. I couldn’t help but blame Mylie for the destruction of the group, she knew more of what was going on than anyone and I was certain she was withholding information. The troop after a time dispersed things just where not the same and people began to go their seperate ways, each member wishing the other well and leaving to start a new life elsewhere. Things in the troop changed so dramatically I found I no longer had a reason to stay.
Where would I go? I who had nothing and no one. I took up a job at a local tavern, it was hard work and the money was poor, but at least I had food on the table and a place to stay. I no longer knew who I was; the troop had given me an identity that disappeared with the leader of the group. I wasn’t Chinese, but I wasn’t French. I didn’t fit into either nationality. I’d never felt so alone.
In order to keep my lodgings I had to sell the only thing that was precious to me, the petite Chinese fans my Grandfather had given me. It broke my heart to do so, but it was a matter of survival. No one could escape the poverty that was raining down on Paris.
I moved from tavern to travern, never forgetting the girl who had lost me everything. That’s when I came across the Abc café, and low and behold who else was working there but that girl. It wasn’t difficult getting a job there, and I took up lodgings nearby, wondering what the future holds for me.
WHO AM I?
I’ve always been very small, as a child I was always smaller than the other children my age. I’m 5ft 2 with a frail frame, a result of the poor nourishment I received growing up. I’m no different to the other children of my generation, with a small frame and fragile bones; I’m a grown woman with few curves to show it. I have waist length black locks, each strand is perfectly straight and lifeless, falling limply around my heart shaped face. I usually wear my hair up in a top knot, knotted with a strip of material from an old dress of mine. My facial features are all very small and plain. I have brown eyes, although I’ve often wished I had blue eyes to match the ocean and the sky. My dress sense often changes, I tend to dress in the plain dresses woman of my age and class would wear, although there are times I find myself wearing one of my traditional Beizi robes.
I’ve always been very quiet; I’m the person who observes, watches events unfold from the distance. Only when I’m sure I have the situation and the people involved understood do I make my presence known. I’m not afraid of being the centre of attention, but I like to know that when I am the centre of attention I am in control. I can be outspoken when I want to be, but only if a person wants to listen, I dislike wasting my time on fools.
There’s a certain amount of resentment I hold within. I suppose losing so much at a young age made me bitter and regretful of a life I could have had with my family. I worked hard for what I had in the troop, but it didn’t matter for the moment a younger girl came in, I was sideswiped. Audiences no longer wanted to see me. The feeling of being so easily replaced never left me, my brother always made me feel like I was worth something no matter how much money we had. But it was all destroyed by me losing my audience to Mylie.
I’ve forgotten how to be kind and considerate of others, there is just this overwhelming need to survive. It courses through my very being and is all that keeps me going. I no longer trust anyone around me? Why should I? No one has ever given me reason to do so. There is a want inside of me, a need to be proved wrong. I wish that one day there will be a time where all these feels diminish and I can once again find myself and be happy.