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Reflections on a Wandering Life.....
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Finally got my pictures of Kashgar up. I have dropped my little pocket camera so many times it is falling apart. Amazingly, it still works. Three cheers for Minolta. I downsized the jpegs, and also lightened them up quite a bit so that they would load more quickly, even with a slow connection. Because of this, some of the pictures may appear a bit grainy. Price you pay for making stuff internet friendly, I guess.
Friday, August 26, 2005
Last night I took the subway to Chaoyangmen to meet Lydia. She had heard me talk about an incredibly delicious dish I had had last spring when I was teaching at the South China Institute of Software Engineering. I am not the best at describing the ingredients of a menu item, but basically it involves fried eggs in a sweet and sour sauce. Really good. Anyway, Lydia is a South China girl, and she told me there was a place near where she worked that served this dish.
I went to meet her, and while we were walking to the restaurant, a street-hawker walked up to her carrying a bag of cosmetics. He could tell that she didn't look interested, so he told her they were stolen. When he told her that, she immediately told him that if the goods were stolen, she did not want to buy any. After he left, she explained to me that these guys have a difficult time selling these cosmetics, because most people suspect that the reason they are so cheap is because they are fake. You can sell a lady a fake designer handbag, but fake cosmetics? What's the point, right? So these guys try to persuade ladies that this stuff is the real thing by providing another reason why the price is so low.
There's lots and lots of black market activity in China. Everything from taxis to cosmetics to DVD's. Sometimes people from the West assume that this is just accepted in China. Well, it is, in a way. What I mean by that is that perhaps you could convince me that people are a bit more resigned to it here. But the government is trying to put many of these guys out of business now that China is coming out with its own brands. But there are lots and lots of people in this country. It's not that easy. And there are places where the police are evidently being paid off. Like the money changers. Renminbi is not a convertible currency, so the only way to convert RMB to dollars is on the black market. How do these guys keep doing this right out in the open? Why don't the police stop them? Quite evidently, the cops are being paid off. What it boils down to, is that China is right in the middle of trying to decide how badly it wants to reform the system. And too many of the people involved in making that decision have more to lose than they ought to.
I went to meet her, and while we were walking to the restaurant, a street-hawker walked up to her carrying a bag of cosmetics. He could tell that she didn't look interested, so he told her they were stolen. When he told her that, she immediately told him that if the goods were stolen, she did not want to buy any. After he left, she explained to me that these guys have a difficult time selling these cosmetics, because most people suspect that the reason they are so cheap is because they are fake. You can sell a lady a fake designer handbag, but fake cosmetics? What's the point, right? So these guys try to persuade ladies that this stuff is the real thing by providing another reason why the price is so low.
There's lots and lots of black market activity in China. Everything from taxis to cosmetics to DVD's. Sometimes people from the West assume that this is just accepted in China. Well, it is, in a way. What I mean by that is that perhaps you could convince me that people are a bit more resigned to it here. But the government is trying to put many of these guys out of business now that China is coming out with its own brands. But there are lots and lots of people in this country. It's not that easy. And there are places where the police are evidently being paid off. Like the money changers. Renminbi is not a convertible currency, so the only way to convert RMB to dollars is on the black market. How do these guys keep doing this right out in the open? Why don't the police stop them? Quite evidently, the cops are being paid off. What it boils down to, is that China is right in the middle of trying to decide how badly it wants to reform the system. And too many of the people involved in making that decision have more to lose than they ought to.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Interesting piece in the Wall Street Journal on the long gas lines in China:
China Does Carternomics
We don't know if the Chinese have suddenly appointed Jimmy Carter as their energy czar, or whether it just seems that way. The two- and three-hour long gas lines now stretching down city blocks in many provinces in China are certainly an unwelcome reminder of the 1970's when U.S. policies caused a similar energy panic.
So let's think of this as a teaching moment. In China today, many of the same Carter-era policy prescriptions for high energy prices have incited the unprecedented gas lines. The government has imposed price controls on oil and gas for some time now in an effort to fight inflation, just as the U.S. did back then, and in the last few weeks it has even resurrected another Carter-era gem, a "windfall petroleum profits tax" on oil and gas producers. Perhaps Chinese President Hu Jintao will soon deliver a televised speech to the nation wearing a cardigan.
By holding domestic prices to about $10 a barrel below the world price, according to the International Energy Agency, Chinese oil firms have discovered they can make more money selling energy abroad than at home, thus lengthening the gas lines.
Gasoline shortages in recent days have become so severe that Hong Kong's South China Morning Post reports that the waiting lines have infuriated "everyone from taxi drivers to farmers across the country, and could threaten social stability." Two other Asian nations, Indonesia and the Philippines, have also been toying with oil price controls and gasoline rationing--so they might want to watch and learn from the Chinese mistake.
Price controls that are set below the market price always exacerbate shortages, because the artificially low price causes demand to rise and supply to fall. With the price no longer permitted to equilibrate supply and demand, consumers wind up paying not with dollars, but worse, through waiting lines and lost hours in the day. That's what beleaguered Russians learned many times over when they waited in grocery lines for price-controlled bread and chicken and chocolates during the Soviet era.
And it is what enraged Americans learned when parked in gas service station lines at 7 a.m. during the 1970's, which, since it included both the Nixon and Carter years, was arguably the worst period for U.S. economic policy during the last century, Herbert Hoover excluded. A windfall profits tax only discourages increases in supply by disincentivizing further production. High profits are precisely the desirable signal that a market sends to firms to find and produce more oil and gas.
The good news for the Chinese is that they can look to history for a way out. When Ronald Reagan became President in 1981, two if his first official acts were to immediately repeal all Carter-era oil and gas price controls and to repeal the oil windfall profits tax. Oil prices soon rose to their natural market level, and through the invisible hand of the market, production rose, consumption fell and prices began a steady decade-long decline. The U.S. energy "crisis" was over.
Neither Nixon nor Carter seemed to be able to implement an effective economic policy. Nixon tended to be Keynesian, and Carter was all over the map--I don't think he ever quite knew what he believed. I remember when Carter was president, and the prime rate went up to twenty-one percent. Reagan was not a professional economist, but he did have a degree in economics, and his entire approach to economic policy was characterized by a clear, well-defined philosophy. Reagan always knew what he believed, and he was good at articulating it. The Chinese would be well advised to follow Reagan rather than Carter or Nixon.
China Does Carternomics
We don't know if the Chinese have suddenly appointed Jimmy Carter as their energy czar, or whether it just seems that way. The two- and three-hour long gas lines now stretching down city blocks in many provinces in China are certainly an unwelcome reminder of the 1970's when U.S. policies caused a similar energy panic.
So let's think of this as a teaching moment. In China today, many of the same Carter-era policy prescriptions for high energy prices have incited the unprecedented gas lines. The government has imposed price controls on oil and gas for some time now in an effort to fight inflation, just as the U.S. did back then, and in the last few weeks it has even resurrected another Carter-era gem, a "windfall petroleum profits tax" on oil and gas producers. Perhaps Chinese President Hu Jintao will soon deliver a televised speech to the nation wearing a cardigan.
By holding domestic prices to about $10 a barrel below the world price, according to the International Energy Agency, Chinese oil firms have discovered they can make more money selling energy abroad than at home, thus lengthening the gas lines.
Gasoline shortages in recent days have become so severe that Hong Kong's South China Morning Post reports that the waiting lines have infuriated "everyone from taxi drivers to farmers across the country, and could threaten social stability." Two other Asian nations, Indonesia and the Philippines, have also been toying with oil price controls and gasoline rationing--so they might want to watch and learn from the Chinese mistake.
Price controls that are set below the market price always exacerbate shortages, because the artificially low price causes demand to rise and supply to fall. With the price no longer permitted to equilibrate supply and demand, consumers wind up paying not with dollars, but worse, through waiting lines and lost hours in the day. That's what beleaguered Russians learned many times over when they waited in grocery lines for price-controlled bread and chicken and chocolates during the Soviet era.
And it is what enraged Americans learned when parked in gas service station lines at 7 a.m. during the 1970's, which, since it included both the Nixon and Carter years, was arguably the worst period for U.S. economic policy during the last century, Herbert Hoover excluded. A windfall profits tax only discourages increases in supply by disincentivizing further production. High profits are precisely the desirable signal that a market sends to firms to find and produce more oil and gas.
The good news for the Chinese is that they can look to history for a way out. When Ronald Reagan became President in 1981, two if his first official acts were to immediately repeal all Carter-era oil and gas price controls and to repeal the oil windfall profits tax. Oil prices soon rose to their natural market level, and through the invisible hand of the market, production rose, consumption fell and prices began a steady decade-long decline. The U.S. energy "crisis" was over.
Neither Nixon nor Carter seemed to be able to implement an effective economic policy. Nixon tended to be Keynesian, and Carter was all over the map--I don't think he ever quite knew what he believed. I remember when Carter was president, and the prime rate went up to twenty-one percent. Reagan was not a professional economist, but he did have a degree in economics, and his entire approach to economic policy was characterized by a clear, well-defined philosophy. Reagan always knew what he believed, and he was good at articulating it. The Chinese would be well advised to follow Reagan rather than Carter or Nixon.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Anne Marie let me know that the links I put in recently were not working. It turns out that our server was down. They should be OK, now. Anne Marie also had a question about the conclusion to the story about Simon Zhao. I guess I kinda left it hanging. The most complete story of Simon Zhao is found in the history section of the "Back to Jerusalem" website. This is a long article, but well worth reading. Print it out, go to a coffee bar, or something, and read through it.
The article I quoted from extensively in this blog was written by Tony Lambert in China Insight. The articles differ slightly, but are essentially the same relative to significant facts. I believe this story is important for a couple of reasons.
First of all, it serves as an encouragement, and example. Who do young people look up to today? Would to God that they had more examples like Simon Zhao. This generation of young people desperately needs to hear this story and others like it. But I believe the main reason this story is important, is because it introduces us to a movement which appears to be the hand of God. Christians from the West are accustomed to thinking of China as a mission field. But if the vision that Simon Zhao lived for has any merit, and if God's people are obedient, then this country will see a wave of missionary activity moving toward some of the most difficult fields in the history of missions. All of us who are interested in missions and/or interested in China should want to be a part of it.
The article I quoted from extensively in this blog was written by Tony Lambert in China Insight. The articles differ slightly, but are essentially the same relative to significant facts. I believe this story is important for a couple of reasons.
First of all, it serves as an encouragement, and example. Who do young people look up to today? Would to God that they had more examples like Simon Zhao. This generation of young people desperately needs to hear this story and others like it. But I believe the main reason this story is important, is because it introduces us to a movement which appears to be the hand of God. Christians from the West are accustomed to thinking of China as a mission field. But if the vision that Simon Zhao lived for has any merit, and if God's people are obedient, then this country will see a wave of missionary activity moving toward some of the most difficult fields in the history of missions. All of us who are interested in missions and/or interested in China should want to be a part of it.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
This morning, I was coming out of church, when I was approached by a young man who asked if I would help him. It turns out he is trying to get someone to introduce him to the "scientific community," for the purpose of addressing (or perhaps exploiting) his "mysterious ability." I don't think he goes to the Haidian Church regularly--I have never seen him before. I think he went there to find a foreigner. There aren't that many foreigners who go to the Haidian Church, but then, he would never be allowed into the international church, so I suppose this was his best bet.
I meet a lot of interesting people here in China, folks, and I hear a lot of interesting stories, but this one was more than a bit unusual. Anyway, he asked me to pass on his story, so here it is:
Dear sir, I hope you will interest my mysterious ablity, and introduce
me to some scientific community.
Introduction to my mysterious ability
The purpose of the article is to seek co-operation with certain scientific
community and other organizations to study my mysterious ability. As far as
I am concerned, there is going to be a blockbuster in physics and biology
fields if my mysterious ability had been fully explained. If there are no
interests from those scientific-research organizations, it would be a huge
loss in terms of scientific innovation and development.
There is my personal profile: Name: Yang JianDong, Place of birth: ShanXi
Province, China. E-mail address: ajtah@hotmail.com. The following parts of
the report will present my special ability specifically.
Chapter1. Introduction to my ability
When I was in high school, my classmates who lived in the dorm with me feel
they can see a strange illusion from time to time. They saw a soul was
being naked and transparent around them .They have this kind of felling
even when their eyes are closed , and they thought that was my soul,
because the soul's looks are very similar to me. But in fact most times I
was dressed neatly and I felt nothing uncommon as usual. In addition, when
I was thinking, my classmates can perceive exactly what I was thinking.
They described what they perceived as listening from that soul. Even the
people who lived next-door, they can feel the same thing and have the same
illusion as the people who lived in my room have. As time goes on, I found
my ability has been developed and became more powerful, because more and
more people who surround me feel that as well.When you near by me ,If you
have this kind of feeling ,what will you think about it?
Dreaming can be defined as consecutive psychological movements generated in
people's minds when they are sleeping. When I was dreaming, people can see
clearly what I was dreaming about. Some people told me they had the same
dreams as mine at the same time. We can propose an assumption; there is an
area exists in human brains. When people are awake, this area monitors
people's physical movements. While people are in asleep, this area relaxes
and it is not monitoring people's physical movements. At this time, this
area conducts people's psychological movements which lead people to dream.
However, this section in my brain might have been mutated which can load
all my thoughts information and send it to other people who are around me,
through a particular but peculiar signal. There are many people have
received my signals since my special ability had been found. Up to here, I
suppose these strange and interesting phenomena may arise some interests
from many physicians and biologists.
Many people can receive the signals which I send subconsciously, but some
people cannot. Approximately half of the people who surround me can get my
signal. The greater distance away from me, the fewer people can sense that.
In some cases, people can receive signals what I am sending out from 300
kilometers away. I don't know who can sense that, and I cannot control the signals what my brain send out. A small portion of people can read my mind all the time, but most people are only able to get that at night.
I suppose my ability has similar functions as the wireless electronic wave.
The signal launched from the radio station can be received by many radios
in different locations, so I think the signal from my brain works the same
way as the wireless electronic waves do. People see my physical image
appears in different directions. Some people said that they saw my naked
body in front of them, and some said I lay under their body when they were
sleeping.
Chapter2. The value of my mysterious ability
Nowadays, it is a digital era, so information is significant. I am sending
unknown signals to people involuntarily. What is the conformation of the
signal? What is the code of the signal? Can the signal load people's
genetic information or psychological information? Based on those unsolved
question, I can say my special ability has a significant value for science.
1.The signal from my brain may have an automatically translated code which
people can get easily, so it is worthy of Information technology research.
2.Scientist can study human brain through the signal. It is helpful for
them to study human intelligence.
3.Psychologist may study other's psychology from the signal if it had been
fully exploited.
4.Theologian may consider my mysterious ability is caused by some unknown
ghosts or holly spirits, so it is worth for them finding the truth through
study my ability.
5.Other potential values of my ability: Scientists could invent new
generation of artificial intellectual robots based on my brain. Moreover,
if I can send my signal to extremely long distance or almost endless,
scientists could use it to explore the outer space and to find new
resources and species in other planets.
I meet a lot of interesting people here in China, folks, and I hear a lot of interesting stories, but this one was more than a bit unusual. Anyway, he asked me to pass on his story, so here it is:
Dear sir, I hope you will interest my mysterious ablity, and introduce
me to some scientific community.
Introduction to my mysterious ability
The purpose of the article is to seek co-operation with certain scientific
community and other organizations to study my mysterious ability. As far as
I am concerned, there is going to be a blockbuster in physics and biology
fields if my mysterious ability had been fully explained. If there are no
interests from those scientific-research organizations, it would be a huge
loss in terms of scientific innovation and development.
There is my personal profile: Name: Yang JianDong, Place of birth: ShanXi
Province, China. E-mail address: ajtah@hotmail.com. The following parts of
the report will present my special ability specifically.
Chapter1. Introduction to my ability
When I was in high school, my classmates who lived in the dorm with me feel
they can see a strange illusion from time to time. They saw a soul was
being naked and transparent around them .They have this kind of felling
even when their eyes are closed , and they thought that was my soul,
because the soul's looks are very similar to me. But in fact most times I
was dressed neatly and I felt nothing uncommon as usual. In addition, when
I was thinking, my classmates can perceive exactly what I was thinking.
They described what they perceived as listening from that soul. Even the
people who lived next-door, they can feel the same thing and have the same
illusion as the people who lived in my room have. As time goes on, I found
my ability has been developed and became more powerful, because more and
more people who surround me feel that as well.When you near by me ,If you
have this kind of feeling ,what will you think about it?
Dreaming can be defined as consecutive psychological movements generated in
people's minds when they are sleeping. When I was dreaming, people can see
clearly what I was dreaming about. Some people told me they had the same
dreams as mine at the same time. We can propose an assumption; there is an
area exists in human brains. When people are awake, this area monitors
people's physical movements. While people are in asleep, this area relaxes
and it is not monitoring people's physical movements. At this time, this
area conducts people's psychological movements which lead people to dream.
However, this section in my brain might have been mutated which can load
all my thoughts information and send it to other people who are around me,
through a particular but peculiar signal. There are many people have
received my signals since my special ability had been found. Up to here, I
suppose these strange and interesting phenomena may arise some interests
from many physicians and biologists.
Many people can receive the signals which I send subconsciously, but some
people cannot. Approximately half of the people who surround me can get my
signal. The greater distance away from me, the fewer people can sense that.
In some cases, people can receive signals what I am sending out from 300
kilometers away. I don't know who can sense that, and I cannot control the signals what my brain send out. A small portion of people can read my mind all the time, but most people are only able to get that at night.
I suppose my ability has similar functions as the wireless electronic wave.
The signal launched from the radio station can be received by many radios
in different locations, so I think the signal from my brain works the same
way as the wireless electronic waves do. People see my physical image
appears in different directions. Some people said that they saw my naked
body in front of them, and some said I lay under their body when they were
sleeping.
Chapter2. The value of my mysterious ability
Nowadays, it is a digital era, so information is significant. I am sending
unknown signals to people involuntarily. What is the conformation of the
signal? What is the code of the signal? Can the signal load people's
genetic information or psychological information? Based on those unsolved
question, I can say my special ability has a significant value for science.
1.The signal from my brain may have an automatically translated code which
people can get easily, so it is worthy of Information technology research.
2.Scientist can study human brain through the signal. It is helpful for
them to study human intelligence.
3.Psychologist may study other's psychology from the signal if it had been
fully exploited.
4.Theologian may consider my mysterious ability is caused by some unknown
ghosts or holly spirits, so it is worth for them finding the truth through
study my ability.
5.Other potential values of my ability: Scientists could invent new
generation of artificial intellectual robots based on my brain. Moreover,
if I can send my signal to extremely long distance or almost endless,
scientists could use it to explore the outer space and to find new
resources and species in other planets.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
I was leaving the coffee bar tonight, and the cashier pointed to the list on the wall by the cash register. I have a "ba wu" priority card, which means that I pay 85% of the ticket price. They have a list by the cash register of people who are entitled to the 15% discount, so that staff members know who to give it to. I carry my card with me, but most of the time they don't ask for it. I was curious about this, but now I know why. I looked on the list, and sure enough, there was my card number. Next to it was written (in Chinese, of course) "Grandpa Marx."
Friday, August 19, 2005
Got an email from a guy from New Zealand who saw one of my posts on the Yahoo group for teachers in China...he teaches English at the Peking University Health Sciences Center. Peking University is located on the west end of Wudaokou, but the Medical School is right across XueYuan Road from the East Gate of Beihang. I invited him to go to the English Corner with me tonight.
Someone asked me why I chose to live in China rather than Japan. I told them that it is easier to get a job in China. This got a reaction. Students do not think it is easy to get a job. Everybody is aware of the tight competition for good jobs among Chinese students. But I told them that many Japanese students graduate from University and end up waiting tables.
One guy who had lived in Japan complained that information was so much easier to get in Japan. I told him that I had no problem getting information in China, but that much of that information is available only in English. So English is the issue. English is the key to getting a job, and English is the key to open access to information.
Someone asked me why I chose to live in China rather than Japan. I told them that it is easier to get a job in China. This got a reaction. Students do not think it is easy to get a job. Everybody is aware of the tight competition for good jobs among Chinese students. But I told them that many Japanese students graduate from University and end up waiting tables.
One guy who had lived in Japan complained that information was so much easier to get in Japan. I told him that I had no problem getting information in China, but that much of that information is available only in English. So English is the issue. English is the key to getting a job, and English is the key to open access to information.
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Well, the fever finally broke. Rained all day yesterday, and today the sky was blue and the weather is beautiful. It has been hot and humid for the past month. I missed three weeks of it, because I went to the West. Actually a little over two weeks, because I did spend a few days in Xi'an, and Xi'an was as bad or worse than Beijing. Most of the year, Beijing is like Kashgar. But from the middle of July to the middle of August, Beijing is a steam bath. And I just heard that the local Olympic committee selected August 8, 2008 as the opening day of the Olympics (eight is a lucky number). Woe to a country so devoid of faith that it must rely on superstition to determine what common sense could better decide! If they are really lucky, it may be cooling off by then. But I doubt it. Beijing is literally a steam bath between July 15 and August 15.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Significance of Xi'an
I left Xi'an last night on the non-stop express train. I arrived in Beijing this morning, took a cab to the North Gate, and took the elevator to the 14th floor. But my electronic key failed to trip the solenoid that opens the main gate. I went down to the office of the building superintendent, and they made a bunch of phone calls. Apparently, they implemented a new security system when I was gone. The floor lady had to come and recode my key so that it would work with the new system. Anyway, it's good to be home.
Xi'an. What is the significance of this city? In terms of history, of course, it is very, very significant. Xi'an is the ancient capital of China. It was the capital for twelve or thirteen dynasties. But the "center of gravity" in China has definitely moved eastward. You wouldn't know it, though, to listen to some old timers.
Xi'an. What is the significance of this city? In terms of history, of course, it is very, very significant. Xi'an is the ancient capital of China. It was the capital for twelve or thirteen dynasties. But the "center of gravity" in China has definitely moved eastward. You wouldn't know it, though, to listen to some old timers.
Recently, the Chinese made an effort to purchase Unocal, the American oil company. There was a lot of bad press about this in the US, so China decide to do a PR thing, and invited a group of journalists to China to speak with officials. One of the officials they spoke with was a Major General in the PLA. He told the reporters that if the US came to the aid of Taiwan in a conflict between Taiwan and the mainland, China would use nuclear weapons against America (not very good PR, if you ask me). He said, "We will destroy 100 or 200 American cities!" But the part that really made me chuckle was his response when questioned about how China would handle an inevitable response from the US. He said, "We are prepared to lose every city east of Xi'an!" One glance at a map of China certifies the absurdity of that statement.
If I had been there, I would have said, "Listen fella, if you lose Beijing and Shanghai, you have lost China." As I said, his comments made me laugh. But the fact that the Chinese military is being led by people who actually believe that Xi'an is still the soul and essence of China is disturbing. In terms of history, Xi'an is extremely important. No question about that. But we don't study history to live in the past. We study history to live more efficiently in the present, and prepare more effectively for the future. The Scripture says that history repeats itself (Ecclesiastes 1:9), so understanding the patterns can help us to be prepared for the inevitable recurrence of them.
My experience of men has neither disposed me to think worse of them, or indisposed me to serve them; nor in spite of failures, which I lament, of errors which I now see and acknowledge; or of the present aspect of affairs; do I despair of the future. The truth is this: The march of Providence is so slow, and our desires so impatient; the work of progress is so immense and our means of aiding it so feeble; the life of humanity is so long, that of the individual so brief, that we often see only the ebb of the advancing wave and are thus discouraged. It is history that teaches us to hope.
If I had been there, I would have said, "Listen fella, if you lose Beijing and Shanghai, you have lost China." As I said, his comments made me laugh. But the fact that the Chinese military is being led by people who actually believe that Xi'an is still the soul and essence of China is disturbing. In terms of history, Xi'an is extremely important. No question about that. But we don't study history to live in the past. We study history to live more efficiently in the present, and prepare more effectively for the future. The Scripture says that history repeats itself (Ecclesiastes 1:9), so understanding the patterns can help us to be prepared for the inevitable recurrence of them.
Several years ago, I did a ten-year study of the American Civil War. Through all the dozens and dozens of books I read during that ten year period, what consumed me was a determination to understand what kinds of attitudes characterized the "winners" and the "losers." Most striking was the comparison between Ulysses Grant, General of the Union Army, and Robert E. Lee, the leader of the Confederate Army.
Robert E. Lee should have been the commander of the Union Army. He seemed perfect for the job. In fact, Winfield Scott offered it to him, but he declined. Grant was the most unlikely commander. He should have been the guerrilla leader of the Confederates. Robert E. Lee was the epitome of propriety. He went through four years at West Point without a single demerit. Grant wasn't at West Point more than a few months before he was writing home to his friends, "Every time you turn around, they give you one of those little black marks." Lee chose the military as a profession out of a sense of duty and honor. Grant's father got him into West Point because he was afraid his son could not succeed at anything else. He was right. Lee had success written all over him. He could have been a success in any one of a number of different fields. Grant failed at absolutely everything he ever did except commanding the Union Army in combat.
Don't get me wrong. Grant came from a good family. He was not vile or unruly by any means. But he wasn't exactly refined, either. Certainly he did not posses the Southern refinement that characterized Lee. Robert E. Lee graduated second in his class. Grant would have been delighted to have gotten kicked out of West Point, because he didn't want to be there in the first place, but he was just too nice a guy.
And the surrender scene at Appomattox Court House was even more unlikely. Lee, the loser, was dressed in his neatest uniform, wearing his ceremonial sword. Grant came walking in with muddy boots, wearing an old private's uniform with a general's star sewn to it. It didn't make sense. The roles should have been reversed. At least that's how it looked on the surface. But when you examine these two men a little closer, a different picture emerges. Grant, the defender of the Union, came from a very traditional, stable (if perhaps a bit boring) Calvinistic family. Robert E. Lee came from a broken home. In my opinion, Lee's statements before the war, about the impending conflict, and his willingness to accept the division that conflict would create, reflect a resignation developed as the child of a troubled family.
Patterns. This is what history is about. And in this sense, Xi'an is very important. There are many places to see in China. You can't see all of them. But Xi'an is not optional. You have to see it. The Qin emperor is credited with unifying China for the first time. In fact, many believe that the Western name for "China" came from the name of the Qin Emperor. And many do not realize that Mao was a great admirer of the Qin emperor. Like Mao, the Qin Emperor was anti-intellectual. He had more than 400 Confucian scholars buried alive. Mao listed intellectuals as "Category #9" in his categories of undesirables. He referred to them as the "Stinking Ninth." In referring to the Qin emperor, after whom he modeled himself, he said, "What can Emperor Qin Shihuang brag about? He only killed 460 Confucian scholars, but we killed 46000 intellectuals."
But the past is still the past. Understanding it is useful for the purposes we mentioned, but we must not live in it. Xi'an is the past. We must use what we can learn in Xi'an to understand what is happening now in this very rapidly changing country. Xi'an, then, is important not because of some present strategic significance. Xi'an is important because history is important. Listen to Robert E. Lee:
My experience of men has neither disposed me to think worse of them, or indisposed me to serve them; nor in spite of failures, which I lament, of errors which I now see and acknowledge; or of the present aspect of affairs; do I despair of the future. The truth is this: The march of Providence is so slow, and our desires so impatient; the work of progress is so immense and our means of aiding it so feeble; the life of humanity is so long, that of the individual so brief, that we often see only the ebb of the advancing wave and are thus discouraged. It is history that teaches us to hope.
Labels: Chinese Military, Taiwan, Xi'an
Friday, August 12, 2005
This morning, I went to the site of the "Xi'an Incident." I was interested, of course, because of the significance of this incident on the balance of power between the Nationalists and the Communists during the Sino-Japanese War. Although it was interesting to see the place where the events unfolded, the museum was a bit of a disappointment, because it is set up primarily as a tribute to Zhang Xueliang, who orchestrated the kidnapping of Chiang Kai-shek. So the museum is primarily used as a place for middle school teachers to take their students to see the tribute to the "national hero," who "saved" the war effort by kidnapping Chiang and "forcing" him to fight the Japanese more vigorously.
Well, before I get into the question of whether or not Zhang was a hero, I want to say that I think the public would be better served if the museum was truly dedicated to the incident and the events that unfolded in that place. If you already know everything there is to know about the Xi'an incident, then I guess the trip would be interesting for you, as it was to me, to a certain limited extent. But if you go there without having studied the "Xi'an Incident," you won't know any more about it after you leave than before you came.
Now to the question: Was Zhang Xueliang a hero? Well, I guess it depends on who you are. To the Communists he would be considered a hero, because they wanted Chiang to stop fighting them, and fight the Japanese. The Nationalists wouldn't call him a hero, because they believe that the kidnapping gave the Communists some breathing space. At any rate, Zhang Xueliang got 50 years of house arrest for his efforts. Was this fair? Hard to say, but in my opinion, he was probably lucky to have been kept alive.
Well, before I get into the question of whether or not Zhang was a hero, I want to say that I think the public would be better served if the museum was truly dedicated to the incident and the events that unfolded in that place. If you already know everything there is to know about the Xi'an incident, then I guess the trip would be interesting for you, as it was to me, to a certain limited extent. But if you go there without having studied the "Xi'an Incident," you won't know any more about it after you leave than before you came.
Now to the question: Was Zhang Xueliang a hero? Well, I guess it depends on who you are. To the Communists he would be considered a hero, because they wanted Chiang to stop fighting them, and fight the Japanese. The Nationalists wouldn't call him a hero, because they believe that the kidnapping gave the Communists some breathing space. At any rate, Zhang Xueliang got 50 years of house arrest for his efforts. Was this fair? Hard to say, but in my opinion, he was probably lucky to have been kept alive.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Nestorian Stele
Sally from the Youth Hostel has been pestering me to go to the Banpo museum of Ancient history. Today, she offered to take me there. She told me it was a museum of ancient history, but ancient history doesn't quite say it. This is not really ancient history, this is prehistoric. These people supposedly lived six thousand years ago. I would question the dating on that, but they clearly predate any sort of Chinese culture. When we got there today, the actual ruins were being renovated, so we were not able to see them. They are in the process of building a large pavilion to house and protect the ruins. I think this place will be worth seeing when it is finished. But it was still good for me, because it gave me a basis for research. For example, I looked up "Banpo" on the internet this evening, and found that it is called the "Banpo Neolithic Village."
After viewing the village design in the part of the museum that was still open, I asked Sally and her friend, Heather, if they wanted to go with me to the Forest of Steles (BeiLin). The Forest of Steles is so named because it is a collection of large stone tablets containing inscribed writings. But I didn't really come to see the forest. I came to see one "tree." One stele from the Tang Dynasty (below). It is a stone tablet about eight or nine feet high, which contains the story of the Nestorian missionaries coming to China in 635 AD. The text of the story was written by a Nestorian missionary from Persia, and inscribed by a calligrapher in 781 AD. So it tells the history of the Nestorians up to that point, which would be close to 150 years after they came. Christianity was forbidden shortly after that, and the stele was lost for almost a thousand years before it reappeared in the 17th Century. It is an extraordinary document, because it establishes the presence of Christian missionaries in China during the Tang dynasty.
It would take a far better historian than me to assess the impact of the Nestorians on that most creative of periods in the history of China's many dynasties. But the mere fact that they were here is significant, and just as significant is the fact that they seem to have disappeared almost as suddenly as they appeared. Perhaps their failure was in the fact that they did not distinguish themselves clearly enough from the world around them. At any rate, there was no continuing Christianity, that I know of, between the time of the Nestorians, and the Nineteenth Century, when missionaries from the West again came to China.
I took this picture with my little pocket camera, and without any special lighting, so you really have to expand it quite a bit to see the writing, but it is quite amazing to contemplate that this stone document was inscribed some twelve hundred years ago. Who knows what forces of man and nature it has managed to resist to stay alive all these centuries?
And in other news, Rainbow from the youth hostel managed to get me a soft sleeper to Beijing for tomorrow. It's time to go home.
Labels: Christianity, Nestorians
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
For some reason, there was no hot water this morning. Took a cold shower. I was complaining about this at breakfast, but I tried to put the best face on it, "I guess there is nothing better for a person than a cold shower." The Dutch art historian answered me, "Yes. Like a waterfall. Like paradise." That's one way to look at it.
The "Little Great Wall." Xi'an has the most impressive city wall you can see today in China. In years gone by, all major cities had walls, with city gates. Universities still do. But many of the old walls have been torn down, now. Sometimes, fragments of them remain. You will see the gate, but no continuous structure. But in Xi'an, the wall is unbroken around the entire city. I don't know how much of it has been rebuilt. Quite certainly it is not all original. Nevertheless, a ride around the wall is a great history lesson.
This morning, I went to the South Gate, climbed to the top of the wall, rented a bicycle, and circled the city on the top of the wall. It's about 14 kilometers. Took me an hour and a half. Before I started, I asked the lady which way I should go. She said I could go either way, so I started around clockwise, which seemed logical to me. It wasn't long before I realized that everyone else was riding the other direction. Why do these things happen to me? Oh, well. Sometimes life gets interesting when you're the only one going the right direction, but you know what you do? You just keep peddling. Don't look at everyone else. They don't matter. Set the standard. Somebody has to.
I stopped for a time of meditation somewhere on the north side of the city. I walked to the edge of the wall, and peered through the battlements at the uncertain world. I opened my pocket Concordia, and sang the old hymn:
O safe to the Rock that is higher than I
My soul in its conflicts and sorrows would fly;
So sinful, so weary, Thine, Thine would I be,
Thou blest "Rock of Ages," I'm hiding in thee.
Hiding in Thee,
Hiding in Thee,
Thou blest "Rock of Ages,"
I'm hiding in thee.
In the calm of the noontide, in sorrow's lone hour,
In times when temptation casts o'er me its power;
In the tempests of life, on its wide, heaving sea,
Thou blest "Rock of Ages," I'm hiding in Thee.
How oft in the conflict, when press'd by the foe,
I have fled to my Refuge and breathed out my woe;
How often, when trials like sea billows roll,
Have I hidden in Thee, O thou Rock of my soul.
The "Little Great Wall." Xi'an has the most impressive city wall you can see today in China. In years gone by, all major cities had walls, with city gates. Universities still do. But many of the old walls have been torn down, now. Sometimes, fragments of them remain. You will see the gate, but no continuous structure. But in Xi'an, the wall is unbroken around the entire city. I don't know how much of it has been rebuilt. Quite certainly it is not all original. Nevertheless, a ride around the wall is a great history lesson.
This morning, I went to the South Gate, climbed to the top of the wall, rented a bicycle, and circled the city on the top of the wall. It's about 14 kilometers. Took me an hour and a half. Before I started, I asked the lady which way I should go. She said I could go either way, so I started around clockwise, which seemed logical to me. It wasn't long before I realized that everyone else was riding the other direction. Why do these things happen to me? Oh, well. Sometimes life gets interesting when you're the only one going the right direction, but you know what you do? You just keep peddling. Don't look at everyone else. They don't matter. Set the standard. Somebody has to.
I stopped for a time of meditation somewhere on the north side of the city. I walked to the edge of the wall, and peered through the battlements at the uncertain world. I opened my pocket Concordia, and sang the old hymn:
O safe to the Rock that is higher than I
My soul in its conflicts and sorrows would fly;
So sinful, so weary, Thine, Thine would I be,
Thou blest "Rock of Ages," I'm hiding in thee.
Hiding in Thee,
Hiding in Thee,
Thou blest "Rock of Ages,"
I'm hiding in thee.
In the calm of the noontide, in sorrow's lone hour,
In times when temptation casts o'er me its power;
In the tempests of life, on its wide, heaving sea,
Thou blest "Rock of Ages," I'm hiding in Thee.
How oft in the conflict, when press'd by the foe,
I have fled to my Refuge and breathed out my woe;
How often, when trials like sea billows roll,
Have I hidden in Thee, O thou Rock of my soul.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Death. Cold, definite, and relentless. We try to put it out of our minds. We think of other things. We live our lives as mortals as if death will never come, yet we are so accustomed to the concept, that we never stop to realize how terribly unnatural it really is. Surely man was not created to die. Something must have gone terribly wrong.
But slowly, surely, it approaches. Dark. Unknown. History is full of man's efforts to nullify it's effects. One of the most astounding stories of one individual's attempts to conquer death is the story of the Qin Emperor. His name was Qin Shi Huang, and he lived in the third century before Christ. He was cold, calculating and ruthless. The tomb he ordered built for himself consumed the better part of four decades, and three quarters of a million laborers. It was discovered by farmers in 1974. The most dramatic part of this burial site is the presence of thousands of life-size warriors, arranged in full battle formation, set to guard the emperor in the afterlife. No one knows just how many there are. Rumor has it that he had himself buried in a sea of mercury. The actual tomb has never been excavated, so such wild stories cannot now be verified, but the mercury content of the soil around his tomb is very, very high, so there could be some truth to it.
Today I visited the site where the thousands of terracotta warriors are standing just as they have for two millennia. The site has been very well developed, and the tour can actually be done as a self-guided tour, because all the plaques contain well written explanations in English. I decided to take the youth hostel tour, because I lost a couple days in Urumqi, due to illness. I don't really have time to take a day to get oriented. As it was, it turned out to be a good decision, because there were others on the tour who had more knowledge than the young tour guide himself, most notably the art historian from Amsterdam (the guy who told me how good looking I was yesterday). The Terracotta Warriors display includes a "movie in the round" like at Disneyland. It's obviously designed for foreigners, because it is all in English, which makes me wonder what local people think of it.
This evening, I headed for the Muslim quarter. Compared to Kashgar, it is disappointing, because it is so completely commercialized. There is really no functioning Muslim life that I could see in Xi'an. But the Great Mosque is quite impressive. The mosque in Kashgar is much more Middle Eastern. It is a functioning mosque that is very much a part of the community. But the mosque here in Xi'an is impressive for another reason. It is just plain old. It was first set up in the Eighth Century. Surely it has been modified since then, but it still has to be the oldest wood structure I have ever seen. It is very, very Chinese. And the garden around the mosque exudes antiquity. When you go to the Mosque in Kashgar, you feel like you are visiting the main community center. When you go to mosque in Xi'an, you feel like you are going to a museum--and you are. They charge you 12 yuan just to look at it. Nevertheless, it is a very interesting piece of history.
But slowly, surely, it approaches. Dark. Unknown. History is full of man's efforts to nullify it's effects. One of the most astounding stories of one individual's attempts to conquer death is the story of the Qin Emperor. His name was Qin Shi Huang, and he lived in the third century before Christ. He was cold, calculating and ruthless. The tomb he ordered built for himself consumed the better part of four decades, and three quarters of a million laborers. It was discovered by farmers in 1974. The most dramatic part of this burial site is the presence of thousands of life-size warriors, arranged in full battle formation, set to guard the emperor in the afterlife. No one knows just how many there are. Rumor has it that he had himself buried in a sea of mercury. The actual tomb has never been excavated, so such wild stories cannot now be verified, but the mercury content of the soil around his tomb is very, very high, so there could be some truth to it.
Today I visited the site where the thousands of terracotta warriors are standing just as they have for two millennia. The site has been very well developed, and the tour can actually be done as a self-guided tour, because all the plaques contain well written explanations in English. I decided to take the youth hostel tour, because I lost a couple days in Urumqi, due to illness. I don't really have time to take a day to get oriented. As it was, it turned out to be a good decision, because there were others on the tour who had more knowledge than the young tour guide himself, most notably the art historian from Amsterdam (the guy who told me how good looking I was yesterday). The Terracotta Warriors display includes a "movie in the round" like at Disneyland. It's obviously designed for foreigners, because it is all in English, which makes me wonder what local people think of it.
This evening, I headed for the Muslim quarter. Compared to Kashgar, it is disappointing, because it is so completely commercialized. There is really no functioning Muslim life that I could see in Xi'an. But the Great Mosque is quite impressive. The mosque in Kashgar is much more Middle Eastern. It is a functioning mosque that is very much a part of the community. But the mosque here in Xi'an is impressive for another reason. It is just plain old. It was first set up in the Eighth Century. Surely it has been modified since then, but it still has to be the oldest wood structure I have ever seen. It is very, very Chinese. And the garden around the mosque exudes antiquity. When you go to the Mosque in Kashgar, you feel like you are visiting the main community center. When you go to mosque in Xi'an, you feel like you are going to a museum--and you are. They charge you 12 yuan just to look at it. Nevertheless, it is a very interesting piece of history.
Labels: Qin Shi Huang
Monday, August 08, 2005
Xi'an. I finally left Urumqi this morning. I was supposed to leave Saturday morning, but I didn't feel well, so I went to the office of China Southern in Urumqi and found that it would only cost me 100RMB to change my flight. I delayed it a couple days and then went to bed.
This morning, I forgot to ask the person at the China Southern counter to give me an aisle seat. Turned out to be a good thing, because the view of Urumqi from the air is impressive. Last summer I traveled to the Southwest. The Southwestern part of China reminds me of the Pacific Northwest in the United States. But Xinjiang Province reminds me of the American desert Southwest, except that it is in the northwest part of China. It's not exactly the same, of course. Urumqi doesn't have mountains like Camelback and Squaw Peak right in the city. But the tens of thousands of quite obviously irrigated land in the middle of a vast, empty desert is not quite like any other place in China. It reminds me of Arizona.
The airport is about 50 kilometers from Xi'an, but the shuttle system is very well organized, and the ticket is only 25RMB, which isn't bad. When I got off the bus in Xi'an, I walked to the youth hostel by the South Gate of the old city, but it was packed, so they sent me to the new, overflow youth hostel. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise (most blessings are), because this is one of the nicest dormitory type accommodations I have had in China. The location is convenient, and the youth hostel restaurant is right down the hall from my room on the fourth floor. I can get a lot more work done if I don't have to walk around looking for a place to study every time.
This evening, I walked into the youth hostel restaurant, and a Dutch couple started talking to me as if they knew me. He is an art historian with the National Museum in Amsterdam. He asked me if I had just come down from the north. I told him that I had just flown in from the West. He said, "You look just like someone we were with a couple days ago!" I did not waste the opportunity:
"Was he very good looking?"
"Extremely."
"Thank-you!"
This morning, I forgot to ask the person at the China Southern counter to give me an aisle seat. Turned out to be a good thing, because the view of Urumqi from the air is impressive. Last summer I traveled to the Southwest. The Southwestern part of China reminds me of the Pacific Northwest in the United States. But Xinjiang Province reminds me of the American desert Southwest, except that it is in the northwest part of China. It's not exactly the same, of course. Urumqi doesn't have mountains like Camelback and Squaw Peak right in the city. But the tens of thousands of quite obviously irrigated land in the middle of a vast, empty desert is not quite like any other place in China. It reminds me of Arizona.
The airport is about 50 kilometers from Xi'an, but the shuttle system is very well organized, and the ticket is only 25RMB, which isn't bad. When I got off the bus in Xi'an, I walked to the youth hostel by the South Gate of the old city, but it was packed, so they sent me to the new, overflow youth hostel. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise (most blessings are), because this is one of the nicest dormitory type accommodations I have had in China. The location is convenient, and the youth hostel restaurant is right down the hall from my room on the fourth floor. I can get a lot more work done if I don't have to walk around looking for a place to study every time.
This evening, I walked into the youth hostel restaurant, and a Dutch couple started talking to me as if they knew me. He is an art historian with the National Museum in Amsterdam. He asked me if I had just come down from the north. I told him that I had just flown in from the West. He said, "You look just like someone we were with a couple days ago!" I did not waste the opportunity:
"Was he very good looking?"
"Extremely."
"Thank-you!"
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Delayed Vision
"In 1956 [Simon Zhao] was sent to the Urumqi Exhibition Hall and told to paint pictures for the Public Security to help educate the prisoners. He painted many pictures but they were never hung up and he wondered why. One of his pictures depicted Christ on the cross at Calvary. This was considered sufficient proof of his thoroughly "counter-revolutionary" nature. He was beaten up with fists and wooden benches and collapsed in a dead faint. When he regained consciousness his head was still bleeding. He had no idea where he was, but was conscious throughout that the Lord was with him.
"From that day on, Zhao stood convicted of being the leader of a counter-revolutionary organization and was brutally beaten daily. They produced a name-list and demanded he give clarification. But as it was sheer fabrication, how could he reply? He was locked up for a further two years. Once he was dragged out for further interrogation. The accusers took turns to rest but he was forced to stand upright for seven days and seven nights, with only two hours off each day to eat or relieve himself. Whenever he faltered he was beaten. He remembered that Âman cannot live by bread alone, so he straightened his back, preferring to die standing before his accusers rather than to admit guilt.
"He was interrogated again in mid-winter. The courtyard was frozen and the interrogators chain-smoked, making the atmosphere stuffy. Beating became routine. During one such session the time dragged on and the accusers all dozed off. Suddenly one of them woke up, saw Uncle Simon still standing motionless and became infuriated. He stripped Simon of his clothing and pushed him into the icy courtyard. The interrogators all wore padded jackets and thought they would have some fun at his expense. But it was so cold they all beat a hasty retreat, leaving Simon half-naked in the open, unable to move. But Simon knew that God was not only with him in that courtyard, but was inside him. He felt a fire glowing within; he survived!
"Through all these experiences he advanced in understanding the deep sense of Calvary and of ChristÂs sufferings on the cross. Such understanding is vastly different from mere book knowledge.
"All this time in prison and labor camp he was totally cut off from the outside world. He kept praying for his wife but had no idea where she was. But in 1973 he got some bad news. In 1959 their compound at Shule had again been raided and his wife arrested. The next day people were allowed to bring her food and clothing but not thereafter. No one ever saw her alive again. In 1960 the police summoned an elderly Christian to sign to identify her corpse. She only signed her name and did not go into the mortuary. Many years later Uncle Simon let his tears flow as he recounted his wife's death. Before their departure for Xinjiang, he and his wife had dedicated their lives to the Lord and expressed their willingness to suffer. But who could imagine the reality of that "bitter cup"?
"In 1981 Simon was finally released. But he was utterly alone and could find no other Christians. He wrote the following hymn:
"How many years of wailing wind and weeping rain?
How many times of storm and hurricane?
The temples of God disappear in wind and rain,
Fresh blood of Abraham does the altar stain.
O vine of God, where are you? Oh, cedar of God where are you? Where?
Jerusalem in my dreams, Jerusalem in my tears,
I long for you in the altar fires,
I seek you in the cross, its nail-hole scars.
How far is it out of the valley of tears,
How far is it to return to our home in heaven? How far? How far?"
Simon Zhao represents, in my opinion, the very best of the very best in terms of the criteria I mentioned earlier. He had a clear vision for what he wanted to do, his mission was pure and selfless, and there was no price he was not willing to pay to accomplish it. This is the type of person we want our children to emulate. But in the end, what motivates each of us, indeed, what motivated Simon Zhao, was not the example of some great person, but the presence of the Living Christ in his heart and life. And if his vision was something which came, ultimately from the heart of God, then it will be fulfilled in it's own time. So if our vision is clear, and our mission is pure, the best indicator of that is that it will be bigger than any one of us. Simon Zhao died without seeing his vision fulfilled. It is perhaps for this next generation of visionaries to see it through. If it is really from God, it will come. It will not fail.
Last Thursday, I boarded the train for Urumqi. Friday night, after I arrived, I had dinner with Sunny and Luo Enjin. I wanted to take them to dinner as a way of thanking them for helping me on my way through Urumqi the first time. The past couple days I have been fighting some sort of stomach problem, probably from something I ate just before I left Kashgar, or when I was on the train. Fortunately, I had a little Cipro left, and that seems to be knocking it out. I am going to have to replenish my supply. So far, I have not found a pharmacy anywhere in China that even knows what Cipro is. I will probably have to go to the international pharmacy in Beijing and pay through the nose for it. Not much I can do. I really don't like to travel in China without antibiotics. I have managed to pick up some sort of stomach bug on every trip to the west. Nothing serious, and I could weather it without the antibiotics, but it takes a lot longer.
"From that day on, Zhao stood convicted of being the leader of a counter-revolutionary organization and was brutally beaten daily. They produced a name-list and demanded he give clarification. But as it was sheer fabrication, how could he reply? He was locked up for a further two years. Once he was dragged out for further interrogation. The accusers took turns to rest but he was forced to stand upright for seven days and seven nights, with only two hours off each day to eat or relieve himself. Whenever he faltered he was beaten. He remembered that Âman cannot live by bread alone, so he straightened his back, preferring to die standing before his accusers rather than to admit guilt.
"He was interrogated again in mid-winter. The courtyard was frozen and the interrogators chain-smoked, making the atmosphere stuffy. Beating became routine. During one such session the time dragged on and the accusers all dozed off. Suddenly one of them woke up, saw Uncle Simon still standing motionless and became infuriated. He stripped Simon of his clothing and pushed him into the icy courtyard. The interrogators all wore padded jackets and thought they would have some fun at his expense. But it was so cold they all beat a hasty retreat, leaving Simon half-naked in the open, unable to move. But Simon knew that God was not only with him in that courtyard, but was inside him. He felt a fire glowing within; he survived!
"Through all these experiences he advanced in understanding the deep sense of Calvary and of ChristÂs sufferings on the cross. Such understanding is vastly different from mere book knowledge.
"All this time in prison and labor camp he was totally cut off from the outside world. He kept praying for his wife but had no idea where she was. But in 1973 he got some bad news. In 1959 their compound at Shule had again been raided and his wife arrested. The next day people were allowed to bring her food and clothing but not thereafter. No one ever saw her alive again. In 1960 the police summoned an elderly Christian to sign to identify her corpse. She only signed her name and did not go into the mortuary. Many years later Uncle Simon let his tears flow as he recounted his wife's death. Before their departure for Xinjiang, he and his wife had dedicated their lives to the Lord and expressed their willingness to suffer. But who could imagine the reality of that "bitter cup"?
"In 1981 Simon was finally released. But he was utterly alone and could find no other Christians. He wrote the following hymn:
"How many years of wailing wind and weeping rain?
How many times of storm and hurricane?
The temples of God disappear in wind and rain,
Fresh blood of Abraham does the altar stain.
O vine of God, where are you? Oh, cedar of God where are you? Where?
Jerusalem in my dreams, Jerusalem in my tears,
I long for you in the altar fires,
I seek you in the cross, its nail-hole scars.
How far is it out of the valley of tears,
How far is it to return to our home in heaven? How far? How far?"
Simon Zhao represents, in my opinion, the very best of the very best in terms of the criteria I mentioned earlier. He had a clear vision for what he wanted to do, his mission was pure and selfless, and there was no price he was not willing to pay to accomplish it. This is the type of person we want our children to emulate. But in the end, what motivates each of us, indeed, what motivated Simon Zhao, was not the example of some great person, but the presence of the Living Christ in his heart and life. And if his vision was something which came, ultimately from the heart of God, then it will be fulfilled in it's own time. So if our vision is clear, and our mission is pure, the best indicator of that is that it will be bigger than any one of us. Simon Zhao died without seeing his vision fulfilled. It is perhaps for this next generation of visionaries to see it through. If it is really from God, it will come. It will not fail.
Last Thursday, I boarded the train for Urumqi. Friday night, after I arrived, I had dinner with Sunny and Luo Enjin. I wanted to take them to dinner as a way of thanking them for helping me on my way through Urumqi the first time. The past couple days I have been fighting some sort of stomach problem, probably from something I ate just before I left Kashgar, or when I was on the train. Fortunately, I had a little Cipro left, and that seems to be knocking it out. I am going to have to replenish my supply. So far, I have not found a pharmacy anywhere in China that even knows what Cipro is. I will probably have to go to the international pharmacy in Beijing and pay through the nose for it. Not much I can do. I really don't like to travel in China without antibiotics. I have managed to pick up some sort of stomach bug on every trip to the west. Nothing serious, and I could weather it without the antibiotics, but it takes a lot longer.
Labels: Back to Jerusalem, Persecution
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Yesterday, I visited a home in rural Kashgar. I had arranged a tour guide to take me to have lunch with a local family. The countryside around Kashgar is very, very pretty, and the weather is perfect. You couldn't imagine a more pleasant summer climate. Kashgar is at about 5000 feet, which puts it at about the same elevation as Denver, Colorado. Warm and dry, but not hot. The country people around Kashgar are very open and friendly. We took a taxi to the rural area where the home was located. We were offered some snacks--Uygur bread and vegetables, and then went for a walk in the neighborhood before lunch. As we were walking, another family saw us and invited us in. Total strangers, but very outgoing. The Uyghur people in the countryside around Kashgar live a very simple life. They spend a lot of time making things with their hands.
When we were leaving, I was saying "good-bye," and I reached out to shake the hand of our hostess, and thank her. She smiled, kinda embarrassed, but didn't say anything. My young tour guide, Awanisa, quickly told me that Muslim women don't shake hands with another man. I said, "Do you ever shake hands?" She said, "Yes, but I'm not married." Oh. Guess I should have listened to Ann Landers.
When we were leaving, I was saying "good-bye," and I reached out to shake the hand of our hostess, and thank her. She smiled, kinda embarrassed, but didn't say anything. My young tour guide, Awanisa, quickly told me that Muslim women don't shake hands with another man. I said, "Do you ever shake hands?" She said, "Yes, but I'm not married." Oh. Guess I should have listened to Ann Landers.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Sitting here at John's Cafe sipping a banana yoghurt smoothie. I have been staying in the dormitory at the Seman Binguan, which, along with John's Cafe, is located on the grounds of the old Russian consulate. It's hard to explain just what the dormitory style accommodation is like. I guess it's kinda like a cross between the sleeper car on the train, and a homeless shelter. The primary draw of a dormitory accommodation is the cost. I don't want to make hotels sound expensive--if you're coming from America, perhaps the rates would not seem high. But if you are living in China on a Chinese income, and trying to do China "on the cheap," the dormitory is definitely the best option. I have been paying 25 RMB (about three dollars) a night. For the amount of money I have spent, I could have gotten a very nice room over at the Barony. And stayed one night. By choosing the dormitory option, I have been able to spend the last two weeks in this pretty little desert oasis doing, well, pretty much nothing.
Actually, I do have my books with me, so I have been able to get quite a bit of reading done. I also have my dictionary and grammar book, so I have been studying Chinese (a little). In addition to this, I have been going through a series of lectures on the Book of Ephesians by Dr. Ferrell Griswold. Before I left Beijing, I downloaded enough lectures to last a couple weeks. The late Dr. Griswold was from Alabama, and he never said anything in a hurry, so his lectures generally run pretty close to an hour. My little mp3 player is only 128MB, but that is more than enough for a dozen or so one-hour lectures. If I had no music tracks, I could probably hold close to 20.
Getting back to the dormitory, I would say that in terms of cleanliness, I would generally rate dormitories pretty high. Most of the ones I have stayed at are kept pretty clean. But there is precious little privacy. For 25 kuai, I get a clean bed and a hot shower, but that's pretty much it. I guess you get what you pay for. People come and go quite a bit, but they are friendly and outgoing for the most part. The Korean kids who were here when I came; the slight little lady from Japan with the mammoth gargantuan backpack, who is traveling around the world, and dreams of someday starting a low cost retirement home somewhere in the world for Japanese people who cannot afford to retire in Japan (because there are too many old people, and not enough young people); the guy from LA who mused about becoming dehydrated in Kunming ("I wonder if it was all the alcohol?"); the young lady from Nottingham in England, who is doing her "Uni" in Beijing because of the low tuition cost; the young man and young lady, also from England, who ate something that made them sick (she, especially was laid low for a couple days--I gave her some expired antibiotics I had with me); The Swiss carpenter who had to move out of his brother's house when his brother got married; the young lady from Israel who just completed her compulsory military service, and is traveling around China with her two cousins (she also got hit with some sort of stomach ailment, but fought it off bravely); The gentleman from the West of Spain who is working with refugees in Africa; the Buddhist monk from Korea on his/her (not sure) way to Tibet; the American English teacher who rode a 125cc dirt bike across China, and is resting up for the return trip. They come from all over the world, moving through Central Asia to, well, all over the world.
Actually, I do have my books with me, so I have been able to get quite a bit of reading done. I also have my dictionary and grammar book, so I have been studying Chinese (a little). In addition to this, I have been going through a series of lectures on the Book of Ephesians by Dr. Ferrell Griswold. Before I left Beijing, I downloaded enough lectures to last a couple weeks. The late Dr. Griswold was from Alabama, and he never said anything in a hurry, so his lectures generally run pretty close to an hour. My little mp3 player is only 128MB, but that is more than enough for a dozen or so one-hour lectures. If I had no music tracks, I could probably hold close to 20.
Getting back to the dormitory, I would say that in terms of cleanliness, I would generally rate dormitories pretty high. Most of the ones I have stayed at are kept pretty clean. But there is precious little privacy. For 25 kuai, I get a clean bed and a hot shower, but that's pretty much it. I guess you get what you pay for. People come and go quite a bit, but they are friendly and outgoing for the most part. The Korean kids who were here when I came; the slight little lady from Japan with the mammoth gargantuan backpack, who is traveling around the world, and dreams of someday starting a low cost retirement home somewhere in the world for Japanese people who cannot afford to retire in Japan (because there are too many old people, and not enough young people); the guy from LA who mused about becoming dehydrated in Kunming ("I wonder if it was all the alcohol?"); the young lady from Nottingham in England, who is doing her "Uni" in Beijing because of the low tuition cost; the young man and young lady, also from England, who ate something that made them sick (she, especially was laid low for a couple days--I gave her some expired antibiotics I had with me); The Swiss carpenter who had to move out of his brother's house when his brother got married; the young lady from Israel who just completed her compulsory military service, and is traveling around China with her two cousins (she also got hit with some sort of stomach ailment, but fought it off bravely); The gentleman from the West of Spain who is working with refugees in Africa; the Buddhist monk from Korea on his/her (not sure) way to Tibet; the American English teacher who rode a 125cc dirt bike across China, and is resting up for the return trip. They come from all over the world, moving through Central Asia to, well, all over the world.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
Yesterday afternoon, I met with an official from the Islamic Association here in Kashgar. I had asked a tour guide to arrange a meeting with a Muslim cleric, to help me understand how Islam functions in China. Instead, he lined up a meeting for me with an official from the Islamic Association, which turned out to be a better choice, because the Islamic association is charged with the responsibility for coordinating between Islam and the Chinese Communist Party.
The tour guide asked me where I wanted to meet. Since I am not from this community, and am not familiar with various restaurants and tea houses, I really thought they should choose the place, but they wanted to be polite. I recommended John's Cafe, since it is the only place I really know about. The tour guide quickly told me that the official could not enter that place, because it was run by Chinese. This is unfortunate, because the folks who run that place are really very nice people. They're from Qingdao. But isn't a racial thing, really. It's the fact that the Chinese eat pork, which is detestable to the Uygurs. Anyway, they selected a local Uygur place with an outside veranda.
The official was warm and friendly, with a firm handshake. Definitely a politician at heart. But it was clear very early in our conversation, that he is also a devout Muslim. I asked him how Islam functioned in a society where religion is controlled by the party. He said that the association would facilitate negotiation between the party and the religious clerics regarding anything that could be politically sensitive. He seemed to downplay any problem, perhaps because he basically works for the government (probably through the Public Security Bureau), and, of course, would not want to be seen as objecting to the government's position.
I also asked him about the nature of Islam as compared to Christianity. I told him that the Christian gospel teaches that God is a God of Love, but also a God of justice. God's standard is perfection, and He is not willing to compromise His standard, but since He is also a God of love, He sent His Son to fulfill the requirements of God's standard and live a perfect life, and then fulfill the requirements of God's justice by taking the punishment we deserve. The official's response was to talk about the prophets of Islam, of whom Jesus of Nazareth is one.
The official asked me about my family. I told him that I had three children, but that I was divorced. He was upset about this. He told me quickly that divorce was not a good thing. I agreed with him and explained to him that under American divorce law, one does not have a choice in such matters. He told me that if a man in their community was single, they would "force" him to find a wife. There is a very strong family orientation among the Uygur people. The Uygur are exempted from the one-child policy. I don't think they have large families, but I would expect to see very, very few one-child families among the Uygur people.
The tour guide asked me where I wanted to meet. Since I am not from this community, and am not familiar with various restaurants and tea houses, I really thought they should choose the place, but they wanted to be polite. I recommended John's Cafe, since it is the only place I really know about. The tour guide quickly told me that the official could not enter that place, because it was run by Chinese. This is unfortunate, because the folks who run that place are really very nice people. They're from Qingdao. But isn't a racial thing, really. It's the fact that the Chinese eat pork, which is detestable to the Uygurs. Anyway, they selected a local Uygur place with an outside veranda.
The official was warm and friendly, with a firm handshake. Definitely a politician at heart. But it was clear very early in our conversation, that he is also a devout Muslim. I asked him how Islam functioned in a society where religion is controlled by the party. He said that the association would facilitate negotiation between the party and the religious clerics regarding anything that could be politically sensitive. He seemed to downplay any problem, perhaps because he basically works for the government (probably through the Public Security Bureau), and, of course, would not want to be seen as objecting to the government's position.
I also asked him about the nature of Islam as compared to Christianity. I told him that the Christian gospel teaches that God is a God of Love, but also a God of justice. God's standard is perfection, and He is not willing to compromise His standard, but since He is also a God of love, He sent His Son to fulfill the requirements of God's standard and live a perfect life, and then fulfill the requirements of God's justice by taking the punishment we deserve. The official's response was to talk about the prophets of Islam, of whom Jesus of Nazareth is one.
The official asked me about my family. I told him that I had three children, but that I was divorced. He was upset about this. He told me quickly that divorce was not a good thing. I agreed with him and explained to him that under American divorce law, one does not have a choice in such matters. He told me that if a man in their community was single, they would "force" him to find a wife. There is a very strong family orientation among the Uygur people. The Uygur are exempted from the one-child policy. I don't think they have large families, but I would expect to see very, very few one-child families among the Uygur people.
Monday, August 01, 2005
The Great Game. The term Great Game describes the global contest between the British and Russian Empires for dominance in Central Asia during the 19th Century. The city of Kashgar played a central role in this contest because of it's strategic location as a trading post on the old Silk Road. Both the Russians and British maintained consulates in this area during that period.
The British consul was a man by the name of George Macartney, who arrived in Kashgar in 1890. Macartney was eventually joined by his wife, Catherine, who stayed with him in Kashgar until the end of World War I. She is known for bringing European civilization to the consulate, including cuttings from English gardens, exotic flowers, tennis courts, and Brahms records. She even managed to have a piano hauled over the mountains. She tells her story in a book called, An English Lady in Chinese Turkestan.
Kashgar is isolated, but very pretty. During the years of the Great Game, this isolation made the relationship between the Russian and British consuls very important, because both sides were keen on getting what information they could from the other. The relationship was sometimes testy, as exemplified by an incident described in the Lonely Planet where the Russian consul gave the British consul an expensive pane of glass, and subsquently demanded it back after a disagreement over a political cartoon.
The British consul was a man by the name of George Macartney, who arrived in Kashgar in 1890. Macartney was eventually joined by his wife, Catherine, who stayed with him in Kashgar until the end of World War I. She is known for bringing European civilization to the consulate, including cuttings from English gardens, exotic flowers, tennis courts, and Brahms records. She even managed to have a piano hauled over the mountains. She tells her story in a book called, An English Lady in Chinese Turkestan.
Kashgar is isolated, but very pretty. During the years of the Great Game, this isolation made the relationship between the Russian and British consuls very important, because both sides were keen on getting what information they could from the other. The relationship was sometimes testy, as exemplified by an incident described in the Lonely Planet where the Russian consul gave the British consul an expensive pane of glass, and subsquently demanded it back after a disagreement over a political cartoon.
