电影《大佛普拉斯》剧照 Interviewee not pictured
Note from Kuang:
我在春秀路碰到这位不愿意透露自己姓名的流浪汉，他躺在街边公园的长椅上，手里捧着冯友兰的散文集《活出人生的意义》，翻到197页，读得正投入。聊天的过程中，他谈历史，谈哲学，引述哲学大家如王阳明，信手拈来，可见平时确实博览群书。
他告诉我他从小跟父亲在北京走散，但对于一些其他涉及身份的疑问，如他的名字，家里是否有其他成员等，他绝口不愿意提。第二天再去想做补充采访，之前的长椅空空如也，像他从来没有出现过一样。
I met this homeless man near Chunxiu Road, where he was lying on a street bench with a book by the Chinese philosopher Feng Youlan flipped to page 197, totally absorbed into the material. During our conversation, his references ranged from history to philosophy, and he easily drew quotes from philosophy masters like Wang Yangming from the Ming Dynasty.
He told me that he got separated from his parents when he first visited Beijing in his early teens. As for some of my other questions—like about his name and other family members—he wouldn’t comment. When I went back to visit him on the second day, the bench where he sat was as empty as if he had never existed.
Male, 47 years old, nameless, homeless
My whole life I can only remember traveling on a train twice.
The first time was in my early teens, when I followed my father to Beijing. As soon as we stepped out of Beijing Station, we stepped into a sea of people. My father and I were squeezed apart by the crowd. I cried out for him but my voice was easily swallowed in the commotion.
I don’t even know where my hometown is. My father worked in all different places. When I was a kid, I following him wherever he went. I only have the faintest memory of him saying the name of our hometown once while drinking, but I can’t recall what it was.
Just like that I was left alone in Beijing by myself. I had nothing in my pockets—not even an ID card or hukou registry.
One year, just before the annual National People’s Congress, the authorities were clearing Beijing of all residents without IDs. They sent me to Fuyang, a small city in Anhui, saying that they’ll help me get a hukou there.
Instead I was dumped into a juvenile detention center for the mentally challenged. There wasn’t a single normal person there, and everyday people got into fights. I wanted to escape but couldn’t find a way out. So I started a hunger protest. By the seventh day, they finally let me go.
The second time I took a train was the trip from Anhui back to Beijing. Back then you didn’t need an ID card to buy a train ticket. Why did I go back to Beijing? I don’t have an answer. I guess I didn’t have a better option. Wherever I went didn’t make much of a difference to me.
I supported myself by working odd jobs on construction sites. In this kind of work it was common not to get paid enough, or on time. Sometimes after you’ve been on the job for a while, the boss just runs away and we had nowhere to receive our wages. When I had no money to buy food, I would go to the store and steal some. I knew it was wrong and it filled me with shame. But I was too hungry to care about my dignity. Nobody is born to be a thief or homeless.
I’ve only attended a few years of school, but I’ve liked to read ever since I was young. Because I earn so little, I really need to think it over every time I make a purchase. Also, for those of us working odd jobs, we never get to settle in one place. Books are heavy to carry around. So I’ll just read whatever is at hand. Newspapers, magazines, novels, I read them all. I’ve started to read philosophy in the last several years.
Another homeless man used his ID to register a library card for me at the street library. With the card, I can borrow two books each time. I’d like to read more western literature so I can learn more about western culture. Without a national ID card, my body is stuck here in Beijing, but my spirit can travel to faraway places with these books.
In the past, I’d rather starve to death or steal than forage for food from the trash. Now I don’t care anymore. I get three meals a day, all from the garbage can. You wouldn’t believe what people throw away. Full or half bottles of Maotai wine, cigarettes, milk, boxed lunches, milk tea, untouched take-out, pu-er tea bricks, chargers, power cords. Literally everything.
My whole life I will probably never spend a few dozen kuai on a restaurant meal, or get to stay in a hotel. But does that make my life incomplete? I don’t think so. I don’t crave food anymore and I’ve even started fasting now and then, sometimes for seven days in a row. I want to encourage everyone to stop wasting food. Even though China has developed and people don’t go hungry anymore, as long as there are still people in the world starving, we shouldn’t waste food.
I was introduced to Buddhism by an older fellow. I chant amituofo every day whenever I feel like it, as a way to pray for the wellbeing of all living creatures. I believe I’m connected with everyone else even though we might not know each other. For example the moment that these pedestrians walk past me, the connection between us has formed. Even if the connection is subtle.
I see myself as someone who has already died several times. Besides jumping out the window, I was once hit by a car. Its wheels almost crushed my head. The driver sped away after the accident. The policemen didn’t care either, as if my life wasn’t even a life.
I barely think about the past anymore, let bygones be bygones. I feel grateful for everything, even those who harmed me. I wouldn’t even call it harming. They are part of my experience, that’s all.
Don’t ask for my name. Is a name important? It is just a label. Call me Heart or Circle or One Two There, it doesn’t matter. Asking where I come from is a meaningless question too. As the Buddhist tells us, “human beings come from nowhere, and go to nowhere.” It’s the same for all of us—nowhere is home, yet everywhere is home.
Edited by Dan Xin Huang
无名者，男，47岁，街头流浪汉
我这辈子，只记得坐过两次火车。
第一次是我十几岁的时候，跟着父亲来北京。北京站的人特别多，一出站，乌泱乌泱的，全是人。我跟父亲被挤散了，那么多人，我站在人群里喊，声音根本没人听见。
我自己都不知道老家是哪里的，我父亲四处打工，我打小跟着。只隐约记得有一回他跟别人喝酒的时候提过老家的地名，可我想不起来了。
就这样，我一个人流落在了北京，身上什么都没有，也没有身份证户口本。
有一年的全国人大召开之前，北京清理没有身份证的人，把我遣送到安徽阜阳，说是去给我办户口，结果我被送到一个智障少年收容所，那里的人没一个正常的，每天都有人打架。我想跑跑不了，就开始绝食，到第七天，他们把我放了。
第二次坐火车，就是从安徽回到北京，那时候买火车票还不需要身份证。为什么选择回到北京，我也说不上来，我能去哪里呢？去到哪里对于我本来也就没有区别。
我在工地做些零工试图养活自己，这种工作，老板拖欠工资是常有的事，有时候干着干着，老板跑了，我们也没有地方去讨工资。没钱吃饭，我就去超市里偷。我心里知道这个行为不好，充满羞愧，可是抵不住肚子饿。流浪汉和偷盗犯，不是生下来就注定的。
我只上过几年学，可是从小就爱看书。因为赚得少，每次买书都要来回考虑和犹豫，而且我们做零工的，没有一个固定落脚的地方，今天到这里明天到那里，带着书也不方便。我一般手头找到什么读什么，报纸，杂志，小说，都读，这几年读哲学多一些。
我认识的另一个流浪汉用他的身份证给我办了一张街头流动图书馆的借书卡，每次能借两本，我之后想多读一读西方文学，了解西方文化。没有身份证，我哪里都去不了，我的肉身被困在北京，但是我的灵魂随着这些书可以走得很远。
我以前宁愿饿死或是偷也不捡东西吃，现在我不在乎了，一日三餐都从垃圾桶里找。垃圾桶里什么都能捡到，茅台酒，有全新没开封的，有喝了一半剩半瓶的，烟，牛奶，盒饭，大杯的奶茶，没开封的外卖，普洱茶茶饼，充电宝，电源插座，反正什么都有。
我可能一辈子也不会花几十块钱去餐馆里吃一顿饭，也不可能会去住一次酒店，可这算缺憾吗？我不觉得。我对食物已经没有贪念了，现在会时不时辟谷，多的时候六七天。我一直想提倡大家不要浪费食物，即使中国发展了不缺吃的，但是只要这个世界上还有人在挨饿，我们就不应该浪费。
我是通过一个大哥接触到佛学的，现在每天都默念阿弥陀佛，想起来就念，供养十方三世一切众生。我觉得我跟身边的人都是有联系的，即使我们不认识。比如这来来往往的路人，只要他从我眼前路过，我们之间就产生了联系，哪怕这联系很微妙。
我算是死过好几回的人了，除开那次跳窗，还被车轧过，当时车轮子直接从我头边上碾过去，轧完司机就跑了，警察也不管事，好像我的命不是命。
过去的事，我很久没有想起过了，也都释怀了。我现在对一切都心存感恩，即使是对那些伤害过我的人。我甚至都不会再把那些称之为伤害，他们只是我的经历，仅此而已。
不要问我的名字，名字重要吗？只是一个代号而已。你叫我心也好圆也罢，一二三也行，都没有区别。问家在哪里，这个问题本身也是没有意义的。佛家说“无所从来，亦无所去”，其实我们都一样，无处是家，也处处是家。
Kuang is the founder of Beijing Lights. She would love to hear your thoughts about the column and is open to new collaborations. She can be reached at kuang [at] spittooncollective [dot] com.