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REACH FOR A NEW LEVEL: Li Feng, who already has a Level 7 piano certificate, aims to sit for the Level 9 one - the highest level in China - next year. -- ST PHOTO: WANG HUI FEN
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IT SOUNDS like gibberish spewed out by a synthesizer.
Miss Li Feng, however, assures me the noises from her laptop are actually the elegant prose of late Taiwanese novelist San Mao being read by a text-to-speech software.
'I'm blind so my ears are often my eyes,' the 22-year-old says in melodious Mandarin, moving the cursor deftly across the words on her computer screen.
In the past, she could indulge in her love for books only if they had been translated into Braille, or if her friends read to her.
'With this laptop, I can read to my heart's content. I am so happy,' says the rosy-cheeked sophomore studying Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM) in Changchun University in north-eastern China.
She betrays no hint of her blindness as she gives me a tour of the facilities in the Department of Special Education where she attends classes.
She climbs stairs with alacrity and saunters confidently without the aid of a white cane. She emanates genuine warmth and has a tendency to break out into big smiles and girlish giggles.
It's hard not to be floored by her effervescence and infectious optimism, qualities one would almost expect her not to have because of the cards she's been dealt in life.
Not only was she born blind, but she was also abandoned by her parents when she was five.
'I was born in Sichuan province,' she says. 'I don't know what my parents did for a living but we must have lived in a poor and remote village because I don't remember any neighbours.'
She has several older sisters but does not remember how many.
What she does remember, though, is being taken on a very long trip by her father to the Wuhan countryside - nearly 1,000km away - the day after her younger brother was born.
'We stopped to rest and he told me to wait for him while he went to get some buns,' she recalls.
He never came back. A woman who found her wailing by the roadside took her to the Wuhan Children's Welfare Home nearby.
Staff at the orphanage washed her, fed her and then put her to bed.
'One of the aunties in the orphanage told me that when I woke up the next morning, I told them I'd save money to buy them buns because they were so nice to me,' she says with a big laugh.
She soon forgot about home. 'There were more than 300 children in the orphanage, some normal and some disabled or blind like me. We had toys to play with and slept in a big room with many little beds. The staff taught us songs and poems.'
In 1994 when she was nine years old, she was sent to a boarding school for the blind in Wuhan where she completed her primary and secondary education. She spent weekdays at the school and returned to the orphanage on weekends.
A model student, she was always made class monitor and also won several essay competitions.
Blessed with a lilting, almost melodious voice, she was a natural on the airwaves too.
'I joined a students' radio station in my teens, and worked my way up from reporter to editor to programme director. For more than two years, I worked on all sorts of programmes, from arts to entertainment news,' says Li, who was also a key member of the orphanage's performing troupe where she sang and played the organ.
While performing with the troupe on a TV programme in 1995, she caught the eye of a young pianist. Ms Hu Hong tracked her down at the Wuhan Children's Home and offered her free piano lessons.
She picked up the basics very quickly but lost interest when more intricate skills were required.
'Since I couldn't read notes, I had to commit everything to memory. It wasn't easy because there were so many keys. I began to hide whenever Ms Hu came for our weekly lessons,' she says.
The pianist, however, did not give up on her.
Li recalls fondly: 'She had to travel a long way to get to the orphanage but she continued turning up every Saturday, regardless of the weather. She didn't force me, she just sat there and played. When the orphanage's supervisor found out, she scolded me.'
Chastised, she returned to the instrument and began to apply herself diligently, learning complex notes and keys through touch and memory.
'There was no piano at the school of the blind so I could practise only when I returned to the children's home on weekends. But I'd practise from morning until night, stopping only to eat and sleep,' she says.
She got her Level 7 piano certificate in 2003, and also took home a special prize in an Asian piano competition. She intends to sit for her Level 9 - the highest level in China - certification next year.
She could have gone on to study music at Changchun University, the first university in China with a special education department. However, she decided to pursue a degree in acupuncture and TCM instead. She hopes to use these skills to help the children at the orphanage where she grew up.
She offers another reason. 'If I had a rich family and if I didn't have to worry about income, I'd definitely take piano because I really love it. But music is a hard enough career for normal people, what more the blind?
'I want to be independent and to do that, I have to take care of bread and butter issues first.'
Getting into Changchun University was yet another test of her mettle. To be admitted, she needed to sit for an entrance examination comprising high school-level maths, physics and chemistry.
While she had completed her secondary education, Li had never taken high-school courses, China's equivalent of junior college. Fortunately, a retired maths teacher volunteering at the orphanage offered to coach her.
Amazingly, she sat for the test three months later and passed. On Aug 19 last year, she left the Wuhan Children's Welfare Home and took a 27-hour train journey to Changchun. A Buddhist organisation in Taiwan bought her the laptop as a present while a Hong Kong charity is helping her with her course fees.
She is very at home in the university. She has made many new friends, taken part in debates and even came in third in a singing competition. She also makes regular visits to old folks' homes to cheer them up or give them massages.
Last year, she travelled with some university friends to Beijing, where she climbed the Great Wall.
Li says she's long come to terms with her blindness. 'I know I'm different from other people. I can't appreciate dance, I don't know how each city is different, I don't really understand what the word pretty means because I have no concept of prettiness. I need sighted people to help me when I go out shopping.'
However, she says her condition also makes her a more determined person. 'I try harder in everything that I do.'
She adds philosophically: 'You can't dwell on misfortunes. There are lots of other people even more disadvantaged than we are. I may be an orphan but I grew up with loving friends and people who took care of me. I may not be able to see but I have very good health.'
Asked if she's thought of marriage, she laughs. 'Of course, I want a little family. But you cannot force romance. When it's meant to be, it will happen.'
Similarly, she thinks if it's fated that she meets her family members again, she will.
'I will be happy if we can meet. I will even look after them. But I won't seek them out, our lives are too different.'
She says she harbours no bitterness towards them. 'I'm sure they wanted me to have a better life, that's why they left me at a place close to the orphanage.'
She adds: 'I'm grateful to them. If not for them, I may not be able to play the piano, attend university and learn how big the world is.'
kimhoh@sph.com.sg
New Asian Heroes is brought to you by DBS. The next instalment of this series will be published on Jan 6.
See Li Feng play the piano on www.straitstimes.com
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