During one of our one-to-one lessons in 1994, my British ambassador student, Sir Leonard Appleyard, told me about the time in the 60s when he was serving at the British Embassy in (the then) Peking.
It had been negotiated for the White Russians who’d been living in exile in north-east China to leave for another country (maybe America).
My ambassador student was chosen to escort them, on the day of their departure, between the train station at which they were arriving from the north-east, and the airport to catch their flight out of China. He had been chosen because he could speak Russian and Mandarin, and Britain was also a neutral country.
The route between the train station and the airport was lined with Red Guards, shouting angrily, in Chinese, “Revisionists! Revisionists! Revisionists!”
When the group of White Russians and my student arrived at the airport and got out of the vehicle, with the Red Guards thronging them and still chanting angrily, “Revisionists! Revisionists! Revisionists!”, it was well nigh impossible to make their way to the airport building, not to mention a bit hairy and threatening to turn ugly.
My student, ever so quick, said in Chinese, “They are the revisionists. I am British, so I’m the imperialist.” The Red Guards were stunned into momentary silence, amazed at my student’s wit, and his ability to be witty in Chinese on top of that. Then, they burst into laughter and the sea of red parted to allow the group to go through.
(China, 1966–1968)
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