侨行天下：午后的咖啡屋Overseas Travel: Afternoon Caf é

潮新闻客户端 周松一

周末，回乡。中饭后，陪着几个朋友去看了青田侨史馆。从馆里出来，在等高铁的几个小时里，一班高中同学约我在鹤城一间老旧的咖啡馆里坐坐。我们找了一个靠窗的位置坐下，窗外就是著名的临江路，可能是天气太热，路上行人稀疏，江边的一排榕树垂下的气根随风摆动，把阳光剪得细碎。咖啡店柜台后的玻璃柜里挂着几支西班牙火腿和一些腌制的橄榄，同学告诉我老板是从西班牙回来的，这店已经开了好多年了，口碑不错。屋内，正播放着西班牙经典音乐《El Mismo SOL》。音乐的节奏，现磨的咖啡香气与红酒的醇香混成一团，莫名地让人心安。

不多时，进来一拨老人。他们也熟门熟路地占据了一个靠窗的长桌，一人点一杯意式浓咖和一些西式小吃，然后掏出手机，凑在一起学怎么用微信视频。头发花白的老头看起来有 80 来岁，好像是刚从国外回来省亲，戴着老花镜，食指戳屏幕的样子像在对付什么顽固的机关。“按这个，对，再按那个……” 旁边那个比他小些年纪的人比他还急。终于，屏幕那头跳出一个有混血面孔的孩子，那孩子可能是老头的孙子，他们用中文、外文和青田话有一搭没一搭地聊着，不时发出几声爽朗的笑声。老板娘见怪不怪地给他们续了热水，她悄悄对我们说：“这位老先生姓林，祖籍山口的，上个月刚从国外回来，说要在国内定居不想出国了，现在每周二下午都会约朋友来我的店喝咖啡，雷打不动。前几天刚注册了国内的微信，还学会了发红包，高兴得跟过年似的。”

时光荏苒，岁月如梭。对海外归乡的老人来说，故乡的点点滴滴，是永远会留在心中的。年轻时，他们漂洋过海，经历过苦难与奋斗，白手起家，在异国他乡从零开始，实现了自己的人生价值。年老时，回到故乡，寻找那份最初的纯真与美好，就想把剩下的日子过得郑重其事。侨联的同志对我说：“这几年海外回来的老人比较多，他们都有恋祖爱乡的传统。他们中有人把海外攒了一辈子的钱拿出来修祠堂，有的人在家乡就到处走走看看，每天组不同的局，请不同的故友亲人吃饭喝酒，还有人每周去给侨史馆当义务讲解员——那些褪色的护照、发黄的家书、磨边的皮箱，在他们嘴里都是活的，都是青田人行走天下的传奇故事。”我忽然想起一个词：落叶归根。但仔细看，他们并不像落叶，倒更像把根须重新扎进土里的老树，在晚年又长出了新的枝叶。

图片来源：“松间絮语”微信公众号

下午人不多，我们正在聊的时候，咖啡馆迎来第三拨客人。一群年轻人推门进来，有男有女，背着双肩包，神色疲惫。他们坐在角落，说话声音压得很低。我听了几句，大意是谁的创业项目又没拿到融资，谁考虑回国却担心海外社保断档，谁家里催着回去相亲可这边刚刚起来的事业根本放不下。一位戴眼镜的姑娘苦笑：“我爸说我留学花了那么多钱，现在回国拿八千块工资，不如留在自己店里端盘子。” 另一个男生把脸埋进手掌里，闷闷地说：“可这边有这边的机会啊……”

出于职业的本能，我过去与他们交流了几句，闲聊中我知道有一个人的父亲还是我原来的同事，他们几个都是在国外出生，一年前回来创业，甚是艰辛。这些侨界的新生代，就是被我们寄予厚望的 “侨青”。这几年，我们各级政府与侨联开展了很多侨青创业活动，出台人才政策，搭建交流平台。可此刻坐在这间咖啡馆里的他们，眼里没有豪情万丈，只有一种被夹在中间的疲惫——既回不去父辈的故土，又尚未在新的土地站稳脚跟。有人管这叫“全球化的阵痛”，对他们来说这痛是实实在在的。那个戴眼镜的姑娘后来接了个电话，语气突然变得柔软，用青田话哄电话那头的人：“外婆，我下个月就回去看你，真的，这次不骗你……”挂了电话，她愣了很久。

真正让我在意的，是那个坐在角落里一直没说话的中年男人。我进来时没有注意到他，直到他叫老板娘给他烧一碗蛋面我才看到角落里还坐着一个人。他穿着熨得平整的衬衫，手腕上的表看得出价格不菲，但整个人像被抽走了什么似的，缩在椅子里一动不动。老板娘显然认识他，端过去一杯凉茶，他点点头，嘴唇动了动，终究没出声。

后来我才听老板说，他是九十年代出去的，在意大利做了二十年皮具生意，赚了钱，入了籍，把家小都接了过去。可母亲不肯走，八十多岁的人了，说死也要死在国内。他这些年两头跑，生意渐渐被当地人取代，国内的人脉早断了，想回来竟不知从何做起。上个月他母亲摔了一跤，赶回来陪了一个多月，公司那边已经快撑不住了。

“你说我算什么？” 他终于开口，是对着手机说的，大概是某个旧友。“意大利人说我是中国人，中国人说我是意大利人，连我儿子都只肯跟我说意大利语。我像个皮球一样被踢来踢去……” 声音越来越低，最后只剩下空调的嗡嗡声。窗外榕树的影子拉得很长，罩在他身上，像一张灰色的网。

我们在咖啡店坐了近3个小时，我数了数：老人们走了，带着学会新技能的满足；年轻人也走了，互相打着气说再坚持一下；那个中年男人是最后一个起身的，他整理了一下衬衫领口，把表情重新收拾妥当，提起装好的蛋面，推门出去，挥手叫了一辆电动车。上车时手机屏幕亮了一下，大概是海那边的消息，他低头看了一眼，没有接。

老板娘开始擦桌子，一边擦一边哼一首老歌，我听出是《橄榄树》。“不要问我从哪里来，我的故乡在远方……” 她哼得很轻，像怕惊扰了什么。

走出咖啡馆的时候，我想起中午在侨史馆厅看到的一幕：一个白发老人正对着玻璃柜里的旧护照给孙女讲解，小姑娘听得心不在焉，低头刷着手机。玻璃倒映出两个人的影子——一个向前走，一个向后退，但奇妙的是，他们在同一块玻璃上，靠得很近，很近……

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Trendy News Client Zhou Songyi

On weekends, return to my hometown. After lunch, I accompanied a few friends to visit the Qingtian Overseas Chinese History Museum. After coming out of the restaurant and waiting for the high-speed train for a few hours, a group of high school classmates invited me to sit in an old caf é in Hecheng. We found a seat by the window and sat down. Outside the window was the famous Linjiang Road. Perhaps due to the hot weather and sparse pedestrians on the road, the air roots of a row of banyan trees hanging by the river swayed with the wind, cutting the sunlight into small pieces. There are several Spanish hams and some pickled olives hanging in the glass cabinet behind the coffee shop counter. My classmate told me that the boss came back from Spain. This shop has been open for many years and has a good reputation. Inside the house, the classic Spanish music "El Mismo SOL" is playing. The rhythm of the music, the freshly ground aroma of coffee, and the mellow aroma of red wine blend together, inexplicably making people feel at ease.

Not long after, a group of elderly people came in. They also skillfully occupied a long table by the window, each ordering a cup of Italian espresso and some Western snacks, then took out their phones and gathered together to learn how to use WeChat videos. The old man with graying hair looks to be in his 80s, as if he has just returned from abroad to visit relatives. He is wearing reading glasses and poking the screen with his index finger, as if dealing with some stubborn mechanism. Press this, yes, press that again... "The person next to him, who is younger than him, was even more anxious. Finally, a child with a mixed race face popped up on the other end of the screen, who might be the grandson of an old man. They were chatting in Chinese, foreign languages, and Aotian dialect, occasionally emitting a few hearty laughs. The boss's wife didn't mind refilling the hot water for them and whispered to us, "This old gentleman, surnamed Lin, comes from Yamaguchi. He just returned from abroad last month and said he wants to settle down in China and doesn't want to go abroad anymore. Now he invites friends to come to my shop for coffee every Tuesday afternoon, without hesitation. A few days ago, he just registered for WeChat in China and learned how to send red envelopes. He's so happy that he's like celebrating Chinese New Year

Time flies, time flies like a shuttle. For elderly people who return home from overseas, every little detail of their hometown will always remain in their hearts. When they were young, they crossed the ocean, experienced hardships and struggles, started from scratch, and realized their life value from scratch in a foreign land. When I am old, I return to my hometown and search for the initial innocence and beauty, hoping to live the remaining days with seriousness. Comrades from the Overseas Chinese Federation told me, "In recent years, there have been many elderly people who have returned from overseas, and they all have the tradition of loving their ancestors and hometown. Some of them have saved up their entire lives overseas to build ancestral halls, while others go around their hometowns to see. They form different groups every day, invite different friends and family members to eat and drink, and some go to the Overseas Chinese History Museum as volunteer guides every week - those faded passports, yellowed letters, and edged suitcases are all alive in their mouths, all legendary stories of Qingtian people walking the world." Suddenly, I remembered a word: "Falling leaves return to their roots. But upon closer inspection, they are not like fallen leaves, but more like old trees that have rooted their roots back into the soil and grown new branches and leaves in their later years.

Photo source: "Matsuma Gakuyu" WeChat official account

In the afternoon, when there were not many people and we were chatting, the caf é welcomed the third group of customers. A group of young people pushed the door in, men and women, carrying backpacks and looking tired. They sat in the corner, speaking in a low voice. I heard a few words, and the general idea is that someone's entrepreneurial project has not received financing, someone is considering returning to China but worried about the shortage of overseas social security, and someone's family is urging them to go back for blind dates, but they can't let go of their newly established career here. A girl wearing glasses gave a bitter smile and said, "My dad said I spent so much money studying abroad, and now that I'm back in China and earning 8000 yuan, it's better to stay in my own store and serve dishes." Another boy buried his face in his palm and said, "But there are opportunities here

Out of my professional instincts, I had a few conversations with them in the past. During our casual conversation, I learned that one of them had a father who was also my former colleague. They were all born abroad and came back to start a business a year ago, which was quite difficult. These new generations in the overseas Chinese community are the 'overseas Chinese youth' whom we have high hopes for. In recent years, our governments at all levels and the Overseas Chinese Federation have carried out many entrepreneurial activities for overseas Chinese and youth, introduced talent policies, and built communication platforms. But at this moment, sitting in this caf é, they don't have any grand ambitions in their eyes, only a sense of exhaustion caught in the middle - they can't go back to their parents' homeland, and they haven't yet established themselves in a new land. Some people call this the 'pains of globalization', but for them, this pain is real. The girl wearing glasses answered a phone call later, her tone suddenly softened, and she coaxed the person on the other end of the phone with Qingtian dialect: "Grandma, I'll go back to see you next month. Really, I won't lie to you this time..." After hanging up the phone, she was stunned for a long time.

What really matters to me is the middle-aged man sitting in the corner without saying a word. I didn't notice him when I came in, and it wasn't until he asked the landlady to cook him a bowl of egg noodles that I saw someone sitting in the corner. He was wearing a shirt that had been ironed flat, and the watch on his wrist indicated that the price was quite high, but he looked as if something had been taken away and huddled in a chair motionless. The landlady obviously knew him. She brought him a cup of herbal tea, and he nodded, his lips moving, but ultimately remained silent.

Later, I heard from the boss that he went out in the 1990s and had been in the leather goods business in Italy for 20 years, making money, registering, and taking over all the family members. But my mother refused to leave. As an octogenarian, she said she would die in China. He has been running around for years, and his business has gradually been replaced by locals. His connections in China have long been cut off, and he doesn't know where to start when he wants to come back. Last month, his mother fell down and rushed back to accompany him for over a month. The company was already struggling to hold on.

What do you think I am? "He finally spoke, speaking into his phone, probably an old friend. Italians say I'm Chinese, Chinese say I'm Italian, even my son only speaks Italian to me. I'm kicked around like a ball... "The voice grew lower and lower, and finally only the buzzing sound of the air conditioner remained. The shadow of the banyan tree outside the window stretched long, covering him like a gray net.

We sat in the coffee shop for nearly 3 hours, and I counted: the elderly have left, satisfied with learning new skills; The young people have also left, shouting at each other to hold on a little longer; The middle-aged man was the last to get up. He straightened his shirt collar, tidied up his expression, picked up his egg noodles, pushed the door open, and waved to call for an electric bike. When he got on the car, his phone screen lit up briefly, probably indicating a message from the other side of the sea. He looked down and didn't answer.

The landlady started wiping the table, humming an old song while wiping. I could tell it was' Olive Tree '. Don't ask me where I come from, my hometown is far away... "She hummed softly, as if afraid of disturbing something.

As I walked out of the caf é, I remembered a scene I saw at noon in the Overseas Chinese History Museum: a white haired old man was explaining his old passport to his granddaughter in a glass cabinet, and the little girl listened absentmindedly, looking down at her phone. The glass reflected the shadows of two people - one walking forward and the other retreating, but strangely enough, they were on the same piece of glass, very close, very close

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