On the third day after I returned, Zhang Shu the ballet department head asked me to teach a master class to all the ballet teachers in the academy to show them what I had learned while I was away. Teach my teachers a class? I felt nervous about that, but it went well and I continued to participate in most of our practice classes and rehearsals while I was getting ready to reapply for my passport. Our passports had been taken back by the ministry as soon as we'd arrived home.

I was happy to see my good friends at the Beijing Dance Academy again, especially the Bandit. I gave him an "I Love New York " button and some postcards from the cities I'd been to. He wasn't sure he'd be able to wear the button in public, but he loved it all the same. "How do you say, `I love New York ` in English?" he asked excitedly. "I wish I could have the privilege to see New York one day!"

"You will," I replied, but I knew that was very unlikely.

"You didn't fall in love with a pretty big-nosed girl while you were there?" he asked suddenly.

I laughed. "No, don't be silly. Of course not! What about you? Over Zhou Xiaoying yet?"

He shook his head sadly.

"What did you do with the rest of your holiday?" I tried to divert the conversation away from Zhou Xiaoying.

"I went home to see my father and mother. They all asked about you! They are so proud of you going to America and they want me to bring you to Hezi to spend a holiday with them some time." Hezi was his home town and reportedly where Confucius was buried. It was something the Bandit always boasted about.

"I will come after I get back from America next year," I replied.

"Tell me, what do you really think about America?" he asked.

I hesitated. I wasn't sure what to say. I wanted to tell him about the freedom I had tasted but I knew this would only lead him to misery. "There were many clean and wide streets, a lot of cars, tall buildings and good living standards," I said instead. "But the best thing was Ben. He was so nice and kind and I love his teaching." Then I told him about the White House, about New York, the ATM machine and all the electronic gadgets. He was especially surprised and excited about the ATM machine.

"Did you see anyone carrying guns on the street?"

"No," I replied, but I didn't want to talk about America any more. I told him I hoped he'd have the chance to see it all for himself one day, and quickly changed the subject.

I received my visa papers from Houston towards the end of the second week and immediately went to the Ministry of Culture to reapply for my passport. But when I arrived the deputy had some devastating news. "Cunxin," she said casually, "I've just received a directive from the minister's office. The minister has changed his mind. He has refused your request for a passport."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"The minister is concerned about potential Western influences. He thinks you are too young."

"But I've been there once already and the Western influence did nothing to me! Didn't you read our report?"

"Yes, I did. It is very good. But the minister has made up his mind."

I walked out of the building in total despair.

As soon as I arrived back at our academy I charged into Director Song's office. "Director Song, did you know about this?"

"Yes, but only this morning."

"Why?" I pressed.

"The minister thinks you are too young to go to America by yourself. It is a dark and filthy world out there," she replied.

"But the minister already gave me permission before I left America!" I said, full of emotion. "I have to go back! To learn more from Ben's teaching, to serve our country better!"

"I understand your feelings. I'm disappointed too. But you must trust the decision of the party. You shouldn't question the wisdom of the minister's decision. Now, go and carry on with your normal activities. You are only a tiny part of the communist cause. Forget your personal desires. And if you don't mind, I have work to do."

I left Director Song's office frustrated and angry. I walked right out of the academy. By this time they were more relaxed about senior students coming and going, so the security guard didn't stop me. I didn't know where I was going or what I was going to do. I just needed time to think, so I bought a five-fen entry ticket to Taoranting Park. I walked faster and faster. I broke into a run and ran without any thought or purpose, trying to drive away what was in my mind and heart. I ran like a blind, scared tiger. It was as though a beautifully sunny day had, without warning, turned dark and unfamiliar. All I could see was a neverending road, leading nowhere, only closing into a circle, a circle that was full of misery. My heart was racing, my legs were cramping and I gasped for air. "I have to get out!" I kept telling myself.

Along the edge of the lake there were many weeping willows. I was still fond of willows, but ever since we'd moved back to the city I hadn't had the need to confess to the trees any more. Not like when I was eleven and homesick, back in the early days. Now, seeing the willows swaying from side to side in the breeze, I longed for refuge once again. I climbed onto a small tree and in under the cover of the leaves. I spoke to the weeping willows for the first time in five and a half years. How could my opportunity to go back to America be taken away so easily, just like that? Those six memorable weeks, the things that I saw and experienced…

America was real. America was out there and I had seen it. The plane trips, the cars, the cowboy hats, the "bloody" steaks, the raw salad, the ballet classes and the Gershwin music. It was all so vivid and close. And now the ground I was standing on had disappeared from under me. I desperately tried to think of the real reason why the minister had suddenly changed his mind. Was it my report? Did I write too many good things about America? Perhaps Zhang got jealous and said something unfavourable to the ministry? Or was what I'd been told by the deputy true?

I had no answers, but I knew I would do everything I could to find out the truth. Calm down, Cunxin, I told myself. Think of ways to persuade the minister to change his mind.

I went back to the academy just before dinner. "Teacher Xiao is looking for you!" the Bandit shouted from a distance as soon as he spotted me. "Are you all right? You look terrible," he asked as soon as he noticed my face.

"I'm not allowed to go back to America," I replied.

"Why?" cried the Bandit.

I couldn't say. Tears choked my throat. I ran to Teacher Xiao's office and knocked on the door.

As soon as I closed the door he rushed up to me and hugged me tight. "I heard the news, I'm sorry," he whispered.

I was stunned by his hug at first. Hugging still wasn't a communist thing to do. "Why, why, why did he take it away from me?" I sobbed. "What did I do wrong?"

"Sit down," Teacher Xiao said. He pulled a chair out from under his small desk and lit a cigarette. "According to Director Song, the minister feels that you are too young to go to the West for a whole year."

"Do you think this is the real reason?"

"It appears this is the only reasonable explanation."

"But he gave me permission to go back before I returned! What made him change his mind?"

"I don't know. Teacher Zhang and I asked the same question."

"Is there any way we can find out?" I persisted.

"You never give up, do you?" Teacher Xiao smiled.

I shook my head.

"Teacher Zhang and I have convinced Director Song to send a petition to Minister Wang to see if he will change his mind. I don't know whether it will work. All we can do is wait," he said.

"Thank you, Teacher Xiao," I said.

"Don't thank me. You need to thank Teacher Zhang. He did most of the talking. We both felt that after only six weeks in America your dancing had already improved enormously. I can't imagine what a year would do for you. To miss this opportunity would be an unforgivable mistake. Ben Stevenson can offer you opportunities we cannot offer you here. Now, go to dinner. Otherwise there will be nothing left," he urged.