It has been over a decade since the disappearance of the Malaysian Airlines flight 370. My thoughts are with the family and friends of the passengers, who are still holding on to hope. The attention is also renewed as Malaysia recently announced plans to resume the search for the aircraft.
The following essay was written by journalist He Fan and published by Xinhua, China’s national news agency, on the 11 December 2014 issue of Renmin Ribao, People’s Daily, a national newspaper. The original can still be accessed from http://politics.people.com.cn/n/2014/1211/c70731-26188881.html as at the time of this translation.
FWD is a series of translation exercises between CN, EN, and soon DE. All rights go to the original source materials’ authors. The pieces translated do not represent the views of FWPhys.
A Letter from Flight MH370 to the year 2014, He Fan, 11 Dec 2014
Translation to English by Frank Wang, 25 Dec 2024
I am MH370. Do not ask where I am writing you from. Some things, if necessary, sooner or later, will come to light. You also don’t need to worry I am about to denounce you. Yes, you have forgotten about me. This I know. “As the mourning relatives’ sorrow lingers, other people kept singing.”1 You didn’t do better than others. You didn’t do worse than others, either. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”2 The same fate befalls us all.
I did not write to you sooner because I was toiling in my own sorrow. It had all happened so long ago, that slowly I too can ruminate over the twisted humour in this tragedy. The probability for a flight accident is one in 200 thousand, and the probability for a flight accident with multiple casualties is less than one in 3 million.
I am a Boeing triple seven. In the over twenty years of service history of my type of aircraft, there were only nine accidents, and only three lost lives. Malaysian Airlines, in its more than forty years of history only had two major incidents, one being a hijacking. A year ago in 2013, Malaysia Airlines was just awarded the “Best Asian Airlines” title by international tourism boards. The day it happened, I took off from Kuala Lumpur. It was a gaudy city, but no matter how gaudy, still regarded and respected as the capital of a second-tier country. My destination was Beijing. It was the capital of a nation rapidly developing, but always dowsed in the fear of not being low-key enough.
No matter what, it should not have been me that “won the lotto”!
Lately I became somewhat of a philosopher, because I always had disasters on my mind. Disasters are a profoundly philosophical issue. Complicated, painful, and impossible to resolve. Perfect for the masochistic and self-abusing philosopher. I prefer the slice of life approach to philosophy. I like thinking about disasters from my own experience.
Most air disasters happen during take off and landing. I still remember my first take off. Excited, nervous, afraid, a bit out of control. Since then, every take off seemed to be a sacred ceremony, which unavoidably excites me. Landing is a different matter. Every time I land, I am already spent and exhausted from the journey. Returning from the clean and noble sky back to noisy and chaotic ground makes me sad. I like the feeling of cruising in the air, even though I am fully aware that my fuel will eventually be used up. No matter flying how high, no matter flying how far, I must descend and land.
You are descending now. I know you don’t like to think so, because your journey has only seen small scares but scant threats, because you had the luck to escape all dire situations. The world’s economic growth is slowing down, but still steady. The oil prices collapsed, but did not trigger a chain reaction. A good brother of mine, Malaysian Airlines flight 17, another Boeing 777, was just minding its own business flying over Ukraine when it was shot down. I was afraid things were going to go for the worse, that the attack would trigger a sizeable regional conflict. It didn’t. The only unfortunate one this year is Malaysian Airlines, it seems.
Of course, I am being a bit alarmist here. Even myself, my incident, did not take place during landing. I was deceived, hijacked, and murdered. The detailed story I do not wish to tell; my pain is personal. Your curiosity can’t contain or comprehend my sorrow. You are different from me. You are still full of hope and optimism.
Yes. I am a victim harmed by dissatisfaction and cynicism. You are not the proprietor, you can’t even find the proprietor. However, the dissatisfaction and cynicism, can you say they are not fruit of your pride and prejudice?
I see that the blossoming and joyful golden age is at its end. Or maybe, that age is itself a delusion of the people. I see the black smokes over New York World Trading Centre, I see the display of despair around the world as stock markets crashed and the financial crisis roared. I read, on your instrument cluster, that the fuel reserve is near alarm levels. I hear your long ill-maintained and ill-serviced engine screeching unnatural noise. I feel there is turbulence ahead on your flight path.
However, nobody sees the risks ahead and regards them as worthy of concern. I see that the most powerful country in the world still deludes it can command all the other nations, while it has no clue how to handle it when riots break out within its own borders. I see that the fastest growing country covered in toxic smogs and losing its fascinating speed of development; I have no clue how it would handle the problems that will come and keep coming. I see that some countries, the more dwindling in power, the more stubborn in tone; some countries, the more stagnant in development, the more reckless in action.
I see that people who “obtained” never want to lose anything they have, even though what they obtained are privileges; people who never obtained things turn to rage, even though they do not have a clue how to strive for, and to strive for what kinds of powers. I see that people are busy, pretending to mean business: they have eyes but can not see others; they have ears that can not hear others; they have hearts that can not understand others.
When the economy is booming, people tend to be more optimistic and confident; when recession hits, people become more pessimistic and selfish. History is descending, though people do not yet feel it — I felt it. I am one of the victims. So frustratingly pitiful. Some were quarrelling in the streets. That wasn’t me. Some were fighting. That wasn’t me. Some drew out a gun, as I was passing by, the bullet strayed and hit me.
I am gone. The angry crowds are still in the streets. There are cracks in icebergs, geological activities are accelerating around fault lines, the climate is becoming more and more anomalous. From a high-roaring period of prosperity to a significant and lasting downturn, what has changed is not only the economic growth rate figure. Many things, many unexpected risks, await also. I wish you better luck than me.
I am sorry I used so much of your time. I know you are busy. People are bidding you farewell. Any more events and celebrations are impossible to fit in the schedule. But who else can I talk to, to the year 2015? It can only be more hopeful than you are. At least, between the clanks of the wine glasses, there might be a fleeting moment of melancholy: you are soon to part with the world too.
This is a rushed short letter and it is time to say goodbye. I want to share with you a poem by Goethe3. It is not long.
O’er all the hilltops
Is quiet now,
In all the treetops
Hearest thou
Hardly a breath;
The birds are asleep in the trees:
Wait, soon like these
Thou too shalt rest. (Poem translated by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)
Über allen Gipfeln
Ist Ruh’,
In allen Wipfeln
Spürest du
Kaum einen Hauch;
Die Vögelein schweigen im Walde.
Warte nur, balde
Ruhest du auch.
MH370
- 亲戚或余悲，他人亦已歌. Tao Yuanming (365 – 427) ↩︎
- “By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread, till you return to the ground, for out of it you were taken; for you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Genesis 3:19 ↩︎
- Wandrers Nachtlied. Translation to Chinese by Guo Moruo (1892 – 1978) used in original letter. ↩︎
Yourong Frank Wang 