When I went to work today, I found out that the company’s system went down because of the Slammer Worm computer virus. We had to leave and check back at noon. When I came back to get my lunch, I was told to go home for the day. I would jump for joy except I’m not getting pais of women in China. What she found were women who were repressed, opressed, defiant, ignorant, abused, and I’m not quite sure what else. The first story was a teenage girl who was sexually abused by her own father. So, to escape his “perverted hands” and the “hard thing between his legs”, she purposefully hurt herself to end up in the hospital. She was just as of women in China. What she found were women who were repressed, opressed, defiant, ignorant, abused, and I’m not quite sure what else. The first story was a teenage girl who was sexually abused by her own father. So, to escape his “perverted hands” and the “hard thing between his legs”, she purposefully hurt herself to end up in the hospital. She was just a little girl. My eyes were filling with tears as I began to understand the unhumorous and painful irony of being grateful for having a broken arm, of feeling so relieved at being so sick that hospital care was necessary, of feeling tenderness only from a fly that happened to be crawling along her leg for lack of tenderness at home. She did not want a molesting father. She did not expect an uncaring mother. All she wanted was someone whom she could trust and hold her when she was afraid, to brush her hair with affection. A voice inside me was wishing that I was there to save her.
The second story was of a university student. She was popular. One of the most popular at her university, in fact. And, like most girls like her, she appears to be wealthy — except she came from a family of poverty. Her source of income, she reveals, are gifts from her suitors: businessmen and male entrepreneurs who need a pretty, educated girl for company. Apparently, the more educated a woman, the more likely she is to attract wealthy men. There are three levels of what this girl calls “being a personal secretary”. The first level is just going out with the man for dinner or tea. The second level is to the theatre and art shows. The third level is being at the man’s beck and call. At the first level, heavy petting is the extent of sexual involvement. Whereas, at the second and third level of being a secretary, sex is the norm. The perk of being at the third level is being able to live outside of one’s dormitory in a lavish hotel or house. There is no love in these affairs, as affairs they are since most of these men are already married. If a girl is foolish enough to believe the man is truly in love with her, then she will come to a rude and sad awakening in the end. The university girl gives an account of one of her classmate’s experience. Such a cold heart at such a young age.