我们叫他“李爸爸”
［老挝］何宋 江苏信息职业技术学院
我来自老挝，到中国学习生活两年了。
我生活的校园里，有春花秋月的浪漫，山水江南的柔婉，抬头可以看到花开，转角可以遇到微笑；我生活的校园里有雄伟壮观却不失温馨与美丽的教学楼，有奔波上课却不忘微笑的同学们；我生活的校园里还有一群佩戴红蓝胸牌看似严肃却不乏可爱的人群，见到他们我们会主动打招呼问好，当然了，遇到问题我们也可以第一时间求助他们，他们是我们的老师，也是我们的家人。这些人中有一个人，我们叫他“李爸爸”。
第一次见他还是在我第一次来中国的时候，那时从老挝到无锡，我坐的是火车。30多个小时的车程，不能洗澡，不能刷牙。我的头发变长了，胡子也变长了，我不敢跟任何人说话。正当我担心怎么去找学校的时候，我的名牌出现在了车站门口长长的队伍中，一个年轻的中国男人举着它。我走向它的过程很别扭，男人看到了，走过来问我：“你是何宋吧？”我没敢看他，只是点了点头。他看起来很高兴，“欢迎来到中国，以后我就是你的李老师，你到家了”。那时，我汉语只会一点点，英语也说不太明白，但“家”这个字我听明白了，只是有些不理解。难道这个“家”和老挝语里的家不一样吗？
后来见到“李爸爸”的次数就像每日三餐那么频繁：他陪我们去食堂吃饭，去宿舍整理东西，去超市买生活用品，去银行办理银行卡……他带我们参加各种文化活动，帮我们排遣思乡之情，让我们尽快适应校园生活。
2019年12月，一种不明原因病毒性肺炎如鬼魅般突袭而来，发烧、咳嗽、严重肺部感染……一个接一个。病毒从哪儿来，病毒怎么传播，病毒怎么治疗……没有人知道答案。紧接着，商店关门、高速封路、飞机停航、武汉封城……很快，我们的外出权限被禁止，新年晚会取消，文化活动暂停……学校里的人越来越少。手机里的各种消息此起彼伏，远在老挝的家人也劝我赶快回国，那时的我们恐慌、无助、忐忑不安。
江苏信息职业技术学院 ／ 何宋提供
中国除夕夜的那天，李老师没有回家，和其他老师一起陪我们吃了一顿年夜饭，李老师告诉我们，中国的年夜饭都是和家人一起吃的，让我们别担心，在学校，他们就是我们的家人。可是快到12点的时候，一个女同学突然发烧了，外面下着雪，天很黑，恐慌又一次笼罩着熟悉的一切，没有人知道怎么办。李老师知道消息后马上赶回学校，叫来了120，医生们帮助女同学穿上了防护服，李老师陪着女同学跟着120一起去了医院检查。没有人见过这种架势，我们的心又悬了起来。大家整晚守在宿舍，没有睡觉，一直等到大年初一的凌晨，李老师拖着疲惫的身躯回来了，他眼角布满红血丝，但声音洪亮，幸好同学只是感冒，我们悬着的心慢慢放了下来。
江苏信息职业技术学院食堂 ／ 何宋提供
从那天开始，李老师每天都会在班级群里统计我们的物资需求，然后拎着大包小包来宿舍看望我们，帮我们测量体温，陪我们吃饭，听我们七嘴八舌地唠叨，然后小心地安抚我们，帮我们打气……慢慢地，我们开始没大没小地跟他开起了玩笑，笑称他是我们的“外卖小哥”。他听到了并没有生气，反倒挺开心。
有一次，我问他：“李老师，你不害怕吗？每天来看我们，给我们送东西，陪我们去医院。”他说得很诚实：“我当然害怕，可是现在你们在中国，苏信就是你们的家，我是你们的‘外卖小哥’，也是你们的‘爸爸’，有‘爸爸’陪着，你们就不会害怕了。守护你们平安，是我的责任”。
“李爸爸”很年轻，面对我们这一群特殊的大孩子，他笑得很腼腆。现在我们已经习惯叫他“李爸爸”了。他让远在异国他乡的我们有了家的感觉，他让我们即使身陷险地也不再孤单、不再害怕，我想这就是爸爸该有的感觉吧。其实，我的身边还有很多个“李爸爸”，因为有他们，我们才感动，才眷念；因为有他们，中国才温馨，才可爱。
所以，“李爸爸”们，谢谢你们，还有我爱你们！
We Call Him “Papa Li”
［Laos］ Laeni Housok， Jiangsu Vocational College of Information Technology
I am He Song from Laos and I have been studied in China for two years．
On the campus I live in， there is romance of the seasons and gracefulness of the sceneries in southern China． You can appreciate flowers everywhere and come across friendly smiling faces． The teaching buildings are beautiful， magnificent and cozy． I can see students busy on their way to classrooms， smiles on their faces． There are seriously looking but amiable people with red and blue badges， to whom we say “hello” whenever we meet． They are the ones who give us “first aids” when we encounter problems． They are our teachers and they are also like our family members． “Papa Li” is one of them．
I met him when I first arrived in China． It took me more than 30 hours from Laos to Wuxi by train， where I was not able to take a shower or brush my teeth． I looked slovenly and was afraid to talk to anyone． When I was standing in the train station and worrying about how to find my way to school， I saw the placard with my name holding by a young Chinese man in the big crowd at the exit of the station． I went towards him with hesitation． He noticed me， came over and asked， “Are you He Song？” I nodded without looking at him． He looked happy． “Welcome to China！” he said． “I’m Li． You are home．” Although neither my Chinese nor my English was good enough at that time， I understood the word “home”， but with confusion： Is the “home” he said different from that in Lao？
Since then， we meet “Papa Li” as frequently as we have three meals a day． He is often with us – when we go to the canteens， when we buy daily necessities at supermarkets， when we apply for our bank cards．．． He takes us to various cultural activities， helping us to dispel our homesickness and adapt to campus life as soon as possible．
On December， 2019， an unexplained viral pneumonia broke out and spread like a ghost – fever， cough， severe lung infection… one after another． Where did the virus come from？ How did it spread？ How to treat it？ No one knew． Soon after， there came shop closure， highway closure， suspension of flights， lockdown of Wuhan… At school， we were not permitted to leave the campus， the New Year’s party was cancelled， the cultural activities were suspended… There were fewer and fewer people in school． Various messages popped up in my phone everyday like sea wave． My family in Laos suggested me to go back． We， at that time， were panic， helpless and anxious．
On the evening of the Chinese New Year， Teacher Li did not go home but accompanied us to have the big dinner． Together were some other teachers． He told me that it was a tradition in China to have New Year Eve’s dinner with one’s family， and that we did not need to be worried because in school they were our families． Unexpectedly， a female classmate got a sudden fever when it was almost midnight． Great panic appeared at that gloomy and snowy night． No one knew what to do． Li hurried back to school timely and called ambulance． The sick girl was helped put on a protective suit and taken by the ambulance for hospital， Li accompanied her all the time． Anxieties were never eased among us because no one had ever had such an experience before． We stayed awake the whole night in the dormitories． It was not until the early morning that Li returned， whacked with bloodshot eyes， but his voice was still resonant． It was lucky that my female classmate just got a common cold． Our anxieties diminished gradually．
From that day on， Li gathered our needs in the class group chat every day and came to our dormitories with bags of necessities． He helped us take temperatures， ate with us， listened to our chatters， comforted us， cheered us up…We gradually felt close to him and started joking with him． We called him our “deliveryman，” which he accepted happily．
“Mr Li， aren’t you afraid？ You come to see us every day， bring us necessities and accompany us to the hospital，” I asked him． He answered honestly， “Of course I’m afraid． But now you are in China， so the college is your home． I’m your ‘deliveryman’ and your ‘papa’． You won’t be afraid if you have your ‘papa’ with you． It’s my responsibility to keep you safe．”
“Papa Li” is very young， and he often smiles shyly before us， the special “grown－up children．” Now we are used to calling him our “Papa Li．” It is he who makes us feel at home though in a foreign country and helps us get rid of afraid or lonely even in an unsafe environment． This is how a dad should be like， I believe． In fact， there are many other “Papas Li” around us． It is because of them that we feel touched and attached． It is because of them that China is warmer and more lovely．
So， “Papa Li”， thank you！ And， I love you！
