论文部分内容阅读
I’ve been pushing the cart for 28 years now. It
started in 1981, when grocery shopping was a family affair: father, mother, two older sisters and me.
My father had been living in the States for a number of years by himself, trying to establish a business and a home, so trips to the supermarket were 1)old hat to him. But for the rest of us newcomers, it was quite the opposite. In Seoul, I was used to small corner shops and the outdoor farmers’ market, where earthy 2)bok choy and sea-fresh 3)squid were sold on the street. So, to walk into a brightly-lighted warehouse in Ocean, N.J., offering an unending variety of goods, was at once exciting and 4)daunting.
Not for long, though. The thing about being thrust into a completely different culture when you
时至今日, 我已推着购物车走过了
28年。最初是在1981年，当时去杂货店购物是一件牵动全家的事情，父亲、母亲、两个姐姐和我都会参加。
父亲独自在美国居住了多年，努力创业并建立家庭，因此，去超市购物对他来说早已习以为常。但对于初到美国的我们，情况刚好相反。在首尔，我常常在街角小店或户外的农贸市场购买食品，在那里，你可以看到街上商贩售卖沾着泥土的白菜和散发着海水气息的鱿鱼。所以，当我走进新泽西州大洋城一家灯火辉煌的大商店时，那里陈列着的数不清的商品顿时让我觉得既兴奋又畏惧。
但这种感觉并未持续很久。在年幼的时候被推入一个完全不同的
As I leaned my 21)hung-over body into the cart and pushed it around that empty stadium of a store, I would flash back to my mother comparing two jars of strawberry jam, trying to figure out why one was more expensive than the other.
Now as my father has died, we’re down to two. Every other week I visit my mother and go grocery shopping with her. I look forward to it because it’s our time together, and as the years fly by, I know more than ever it won’t always be like this.
22)Costco may be our favorite place for big shopping, but I enjoy taking my mother to the Korean grocer in town even more, because there, she’s the boss. She navigates those 23)kimchiand 24)nori-stacked aisles with confidence while I’m the one who lags behind, and she is always persuading the shop owner to throw in a 25)freebie when she makes a large purchase. Watching her there, I can’t help but wonder if she wishes to return to her homeland, where nothing would be a mystery. I know she would miss me and my sisters, but at this point, her job is done. She has given up so much for us, so isn’t it finally time for her to live in comfort? The other day, as we walked by a skyscraper of canned tomatoes, I asked her this very question. “I think about it,”she said, and she paused, as if she was doing exactly that. “I would understand everything, but you know, that’s not home anymore.”
Neither is New Jersey, but apparently, as long as I keep pushing the cart, she’s happy to walk along with me.
当我余醉未醒的身体俯靠着购物车，推着它在空无一人的店内转悠时，我的脑海会闪现母亲比较两罐草莓酱的情景，那时的她正试图找出一瓶比另一瓶贵的原因。
如今，父亲已经去世，只剩下我和母亲两个一起购物。每隔一个星期，我就会去看她一次，和她一起去食品店购物。我满心期待，因为我们可以一同度过那段时光，随着光阴流逝，我比以往任何时候都更清楚这样的时刻不会永存。
好市多可能是我们大量购物时最喜欢去的地方，但我更喜欢和母亲去镇上的韩国杂货店，因为在那里, 母亲说了算。她自信地在堆满泡菜和紫菜的过道中间穿梭，而我只能跟随其后, 当她买很多东西时, 她总能说服店主送她一样赠品。看她在那儿的自如神态，我不禁想：她是否希望重回故土。在家乡，一切于她而言都不会如谜一般。我知道她会想念我和姐姐们，但在这一点上，她的任务已经完成了。她已经为我们付出如此之多，所以现在不正是让她过得舒适一点的时候吗？前几天，我们走到一堆堆得高高的西红柿罐头前时，我问了她这个问题。 “让我想想，”她说，顿了顿，仿佛正在思考，“（在韩国）我什么都懂，但是你也知道，那已不再是家了。”
新泽西州也不是她的家，但显然，只要我一直推着购物车，她就会很开心地和我走在一起。
started in 1981, when grocery shopping was a family affair: father, mother, two older sisters and me.
My father had been living in the States for a number of years by himself, trying to establish a business and a home, so trips to the supermarket were 1)old hat to him. But for the rest of us newcomers, it was quite the opposite. In Seoul, I was used to small corner shops and the outdoor farmers’ market, where earthy 2)bok choy and sea-fresh 3)squid were sold on the street. So, to walk into a brightly-lighted warehouse in Ocean, N.J., offering an unending variety of goods, was at once exciting and 4)daunting.
Not for long, though. The thing about being thrust into a completely different culture when you
时至今日, 我已推着购物车走过了
28年。最初是在1981年，当时去杂货店购物是一件牵动全家的事情，父亲、母亲、两个姐姐和我都会参加。
父亲独自在美国居住了多年，努力创业并建立家庭，因此，去超市购物对他来说早已习以为常。但对于初到美国的我们，情况刚好相反。在首尔，我常常在街角小店或户外的农贸市场购买食品，在那里，你可以看到街上商贩售卖沾着泥土的白菜和散发着海水气息的鱿鱼。所以，当我走进新泽西州大洋城一家灯火辉煌的大商店时，那里陈列着的数不清的商品顿时让我觉得既兴奋又畏惧。
但这种感觉并未持续很久。在年幼的时候被推入一个完全不同的
As I leaned my 21)hung-over body into the cart and pushed it around that empty stadium of a store, I would flash back to my mother comparing two jars of strawberry jam, trying to figure out why one was more expensive than the other.
Now as my father has died, we’re down to two. Every other week I visit my mother and go grocery shopping with her. I look forward to it because it’s our time together, and as the years fly by, I know more than ever it won’t always be like this.
22)Costco may be our favorite place for big shopping, but I enjoy taking my mother to the Korean grocer in town even more, because there, she’s the boss. She navigates those 23)kimchiand 24)nori-stacked aisles with confidence while I’m the one who lags behind, and she is always persuading the shop owner to throw in a 25)freebie when she makes a large purchase. Watching her there, I can’t help but wonder if she wishes to return to her homeland, where nothing would be a mystery. I know she would miss me and my sisters, but at this point, her job is done. She has given up so much for us, so isn’t it finally time for her to live in comfort? The other day, as we walked by a skyscraper of canned tomatoes, I asked her this very question. “I think about it,”she said, and she paused, as if she was doing exactly that. “I would understand everything, but you know, that’s not home anymore.”
Neither is New Jersey, but apparently, as long as I keep pushing the cart, she’s happy to walk along with me.
当我余醉未醒的身体俯靠着购物车，推着它在空无一人的店内转悠时，我的脑海会闪现母亲比较两罐草莓酱的情景，那时的她正试图找出一瓶比另一瓶贵的原因。
如今，父亲已经去世，只剩下我和母亲两个一起购物。每隔一个星期，我就会去看她一次，和她一起去食品店购物。我满心期待，因为我们可以一同度过那段时光，随着光阴流逝，我比以往任何时候都更清楚这样的时刻不会永存。
好市多可能是我们大量购物时最喜欢去的地方，但我更喜欢和母亲去镇上的韩国杂货店，因为在那里, 母亲说了算。她自信地在堆满泡菜和紫菜的过道中间穿梭，而我只能跟随其后, 当她买很多东西时, 她总能说服店主送她一样赠品。看她在那儿的自如神态，我不禁想：她是否希望重回故土。在家乡，一切于她而言都不会如谜一般。我知道她会想念我和姐姐们，但在这一点上，她的任务已经完成了。她已经为我们付出如此之多，所以现在不正是让她过得舒适一点的时候吗？前几天，我们走到一堆堆得高高的西红柿罐头前时，我问了她这个问题。 “让我想想，”她说，顿了顿，仿佛正在思考，“（在韩国）我什么都懂，但是你也知道，那已不再是家了。”
新泽西州也不是她的家，但显然，只要我一直推着购物车，她就会很开心地和我走在一起。