In my hometown of Luzhou, Sichuan, August is the hottest time of the year. When Iwas a child, air conditioning was rare. Every household had an electric fan,but the climate in the basin was hot and humid, and the electric fans were onlyblowing hot air, like a big hairdryer. People loved to go to the open-airswimming pool of Zhongshan Park, only there was cool. It is the only publicswimming pool in the city. It was built in the 1950s and had red flags on thecement relief of the walls on both sides of the entrance. The pool facilitiesare outdated, but the fare was cheap, which cost 50 cents. The kids could get amonthly pass, which worked out to be 20-30 cents per swim, so we almost wentthere every day. We couldn’t go during the day, because it was too hot, ourskin would peel off from the sunburn, so we could only go in the morning orlate in the evening.

It was great to swim in the morning, the sun was still drowsy, and not so hot. Theswimming pool opened at six o'clock, and there were very few people. Even thegrandmother who was holding a foam box and selling popsicles at the door hadnot yet been there. Standing on the platform next to the pool, watching thewaves ripple in the breeze, reflecting the white sky and the dark greenshadows, and framed by the mosaic floor patterns of the pool, reminds one ofRichter’s paintings. I don't know why, this scene in my memory reminds me ofthe movie "Goodbye, Lenin." Close your eyes, take a deep breath, afierce plunged into the water, "squeaky", I instantly entered anotherworld, I was immediately isolated from the heat outside. "SummerLife" and various kinds of homework immediately became a drifting cloud.More importantly, this moment seemed to pause, when I could dwell in pleasure.The sound of being underwater was also good, the image of the bubble was likeplaying the xylophone, where the notes to follow, that sounded one hundredtimes better than Carl Czerny’s pieces that I practice every day. To this day,I still enjoy diving, which is probably extended from that time.

People who go to the pool in the morning were there to swim, but not necessarily theones in the evening where the swimming pool was completely different. In theevening, there are all kinds of people at the pool: ones who were soaking therelike in a bath, soaking their feet, and the rest of them drinking...Occasionally, some would make the butterfly strokes in the pool to attractpeople’s glares. People also brought strange equipment to the pool: some hadhuge tires; others brought foam mats that were removed from the waste box;others brought spicy food, camera, telescopes, and guitar ...if they weren’tseen in the pool, no one would know they were there to swim. Sometimes, musicwas played at the pool, everyone loved the song, “He Dong”, apparentlyit was the most popular song in Guangzhou at the time. Its strong rhythm turnedthe pool into a disco, the water was the dance floor, the poolside was thedeck, and the store window was the bar. People with mountain city beer andTianfu Coke in hand bobbed their heads along with the music. There were toomany people at this time, and it was impossible to swim. We spend most of thetime sitting by the pool and feeling the breeze, watching the young guys’strong arms and the girls’ pale legs dance in the water, and listen to theirlaughter in the water, the air of the sunset and the hormonal clash sprinkledsparkle made us dizzy.

The sun was about to set, the heat from the day was still there, the air wasextraordinarily humid, the blushing sunset inebriates the mood and the fadingred flags are embossed in a strange red, while outlining the mesmerizing bodilycurves that are usually concealed, and illuminating the bright water dropletson people's bare skin. These tucked-away small towns in the upper reaches ofthe Yangtze River rarely display their charm and sensuality. Tomorrow will beyet another sunny day, and children like us only began to grasp on the sense ofsensuality under this sexy sky.