Eric's Beijing Diary

Got an email from a CCTV photographer who took this candid shot when I was on the set of CLOSEUP. I don't generally like pictures of myself, but here it is, for better or worse. Those CCTV photographers carry cameras with huge telephoto lenses that dwarf the camera size. I would never have one of those. If the camera doesn't fit in my pocket, it is basically useless. I would never carry it with me. I am not a photographer either professionally, or even in any advanced "hobbyist" sense of the term. I take pictures to help clarify my writing. With me, good pictures are a result of luck more than anything else. But there is also the matter of probability. If I have a small camera, I can take lots of pictures, because it is digital, so there is no cost for developing. This increases the possibility that I might actually come up with something worth looking at. It's sorta like the guy who buys a whole bunch of lottery tickets to enhance the odds.

Last night I went to the Bookworm to hear Sidney Rittenberg. Predictably the place was packed to the gills. I had wanted to get there earlier, but I had a class that ended at 6pm. I did manage to get into the room, but I had to stand.

Of all the foreigners who came to China to help the revolution during the earlier days (such as Israel Epstein, Sidney Shapiro, Anna Loiuse Strong, Agnes Smedley, George Hatem, Rewi Alley and others), I think Rittenberg was probably the craziest, and he spent more time in prison than the rest of them put together. Most of them are gone now. Israel Epstein died in 2005, and Rittenberg himself is 85. But as radical as he was during the Cultural Revolution, he is a very bright, conversational individual with a warm smile and firm handshake.

He did talk a bit about the two times he was incarcerated. The first incarceration was ordered by Stalin, who sent a message to Mao, because he believed that Rittenberg was a spy. Rittenberg did not mention Anna Louise Strong, but it was his association with her that got him in trouble. Stalin thought she was a spy (she wasn't), and concluded that Rittenberg must be, too. He was in prison for six years, and then released when Stalin died. Both Mao and Zhou En-lai apologized to him personally and apologized publicly. But during the Cultural Revolution, he got involved whole-heartedly, and led struggles at China Radio. This led to his second incarceration, for ten years.

I asked Mr. Rittenberg if he felt that Mao had a "lust for power," as has been described in the recent book by Jung Chang. He doesn't like that book, which is understandable, because it is very, very negative, and there are lots of problems with the documentation. He said that he didn't think Mao cared about power, he was just interested in working his program.

In the three years I have been in China, I have been surprised how many seemingly bright, educated people have tried to insist that what is happening in China today is merely a modification of Marxism, when in fact, it is clearly an overwhelming repudiation of Marxism. When I put this question to Rittenberg, he seemed to be talking along the same line. This is a puzzling to me. Of course, it should be said that most of the laowai who came to China during the early revolutionary period were not really economists. They did not join the revolution out of a firm commitment to Marxist economic policy. Still, they were mostly very bright, intelligent, well educated people. I just don't see how you can reconcile what is going on in China today with classic Marxism. Or Maoism, for that matter. It was Mao who said, "If our children's generation goes in for revisionism, so that although they still nominally have socialism, it is in fact capitalism, then our grandsons will certainly rise up in revolt and overthrow their fathers." Some of the old timers didn't live long enough to see this radical change happen. But Sidney Shapiro is still living, and, of course, Rittenberg himself. Rittenberg is honest about some of Mao's cruelty. But I can't help feeling that this is largely because he couldn't possibly deny it. There is something about Mao that inspired deep loyalty, even among those like Rittenberg who were victims of his cruelty.

Rittenberg is currently writing a book about how he endured solitary confinement. He said that during his second incarceration, he had the opportunity to read the two volumes of Hegel's Logic, "and it isn't any easier to understand in Chinese than it is in English." I would, of course, be very interested in reading that book. But I could also wish that I could talk with Rittenberg and others about the phenomenon mentioned earlier. That is, that people who revere Mao insist that what is happening in China today is something Mao would be pleased with. They are, in essence, giving him credit for the development of an economic system that is, in fact, the antithesis of what he proposed. I need to think about this some more. It really is puzzling.

Can you spot the real youth hostel? One of these youth hostels is a legitimate member of "Hostelling International." One of them is not, although they both carry the trademark sign. From the outside, it would be tough to tell which one is legitimate, and which one is the copy. The real one is listed on the Hostelling International web site for China. The fake one is not. But, get this, the fake one is on the official city map of Suzhou. The legitimate one is not! Money talks in Suzhou, I guess. There is very little policing of this kind of thing, so copies of "Hostelling International" youth hostels are springing up all over China. I stayed in one last summer in Urumqi (Xinjiang). I reported this to the China Youth Hostel association, and they did (predictably) nothing. So does it matter? Well, youth hostels, you know are not supposed to be big money making enterprises, so I guess there may not be a whole lot of motivation for the real youth hostel association to sue the fake ones. The problem is that the fake ones do not have to follow the cleanliness and safety standards of the real ones. This presents a false picture to travelers, and also pushes the price up. Fake youth hostels are in it for the money, pure and simple. They have absolutely no qualms about taking advantage of young people who are traveling on limited resources.

The Wall Street Journal did an interesting piece recently about copycat branding in China. It really is rampant. Right now I am sitting in the "Sculpting in Time" coffee bar in Wudaokou. It is just a few minutes from the North Gate of Beihang University, where I live. But over near the East Gate, is a place called "Sculpting for Time." Shameless copy by some mindless, uneducated people who are obviously not aware that the term "Sculpting in Time" is taken from the name of Russian filmmaker Tarkovsky's book about his work. Sculpting in Time was started about eight years ago by a couple film students from Peking University. So what does "Sculpting for Time" mean? Nobody knows. It doesn't matter. That isn't the point. The point is to trick people into thinking they are going to a place similar to the establishment they are used to.

So what will motivate organizations like the Youth Hostel Association to protect their reputation? It is hard to say. It's possible that they are into some copying of their own, and wish to avoid scrutiny. Or that they cannot afford the legal costs. Meanwhile, the "Hostelling International" sign doesn't mean much in China these days. Pretty soon there will be more fake youth hostels than real ones.

This morning, I stopped at KFC to grab a breakfast sandwich. While I was getting my stuff, there was a guy from some European country at the counter. He kept telling the lady in English that he wanted a "Big Mac." She gave him the menu, and he was searching the sandwiches. She was trying to explain to him that they could not get the regular sandwiches until after 9am. Only the breakfast menu items were available before that time. This guy kept saying, in English, "I just want a Big Mac." I kindly informed him that he was at the wrong place.

"You mean I can't get a Big Mac here?"

"No. You have to go down the street to McDonald's"

"You mean this is different?"

"Yes, very different. It's a different company."

"But it looks the same."

Hmmm... makes me wonder..don't they have KFC in Europe? I didn't ask the guy which European country he was from. I guess I should have. I took him outside and showed him how to get to McDonald's.

Today Raymond and I went to the Miyun Reservoir to have a dinner of giant reservoir fish. I think that is the biggest fresh-water fish I have ever eaten. I think they must feed them grain, or something. Man, that thing was huge! And we added some very delicious mushrooms, scrambled eggs, and green vegetables. The food is definitely good, but it takes a long time to get there. It's one of the only times I can think of where you would actually benefit from having a car. Raymond told me that it takes about 40 minutes by car. It took us about two-and-a-half hours by bus and light rail.

After lunch we went for a little hike in the countryside near the reservoir, and scared up one of the prettiest pheasants I have ever seen. As we were talking Raymond said, "I need to have you explain a joke to me. I don't understand it."

I said, "Go ahead."

Raymond said, "Take your hat off. The pope is in the Volkswagen."

I said, "Raymond, where did you hear that?"

"Friends."

I said, "Raymond, with something like that, the humor comes from the context. Without knowing the context, it's hard for me to say why someone might think it was humorous."

He said, "I told that joke to a girl and she didn't laugh. She said, 'Why is that funny?' and I said, 'I don't know, either.'"

The coffee bar gave me a VIP ticket to go hear Jane Goodall at the National Library. Tell you one thing, that lady can do better monkey calls than any junior high kid I have heard. Her work, as many of you know has involved the study of chimpanzees for almost fifty years. She talked a lot about the similarities between chimps and humans. But she also talked about the differences. Actually, she focused on one difference: language.

Jane Goodall really got her start when she saved money to go to Africa to visit a friend, and met Louis Leakey. Leakey managed to get her some funding to study chimpanzees for six months. Her objective, in that six months, was to discover something unique that would allow her to secure further funding. She did. She was able to observe a chimpanzee making a tool. Up to that point, it was thought that tool making was uniquely human.

I guess I had not been aware, before, of her association with Louis Leakey. Shows how much I keep up with that whole universe. But when Jane Goodall was talking about the differences between chimps and humans, I was reminded of something his son, Richard Leakey said, about the termites. He was talking about how the termites could build complex dwellings with naturally air-conditioned passages. And then Richard Leakey said, "But the termites cannot choose to build a cathedral instead." This, I think, is the difference between man and beast that is most significant. There is something in the heart of man that longs for God. As Augustine put it, "Thou hast made us for thyself, and our hearts, oh God, are restless, 'till they find their rest in thee."

Well, I'm back. Rough trip but it was probably good for me. But enough about my suffering. Let me give you a rundown of the three places I visited:

Hangzhou. This was Marco Polo's favorite. I don't blame him, but I think it should be said that the Hangzhou he visited really doesn't exist today. Today, Hangzhou has become an average booming Chinese city, with all that comes along with that. The exception, of course, is West Lake. If the companies making fast bucks by cluttering the landscape with high-rises could persuade the government to let them fill in West Lake so they could build more clutter, they would probably do it. But It is not to be. So West Lake with it's abundant tourists is here to stay. Places around West Lake are expensive, including Starbucks, where prices are even higher than the usually high tag I have come to expect from businesses aimed at gullible foreigners. I'm spoiled, of course, because I live in the university (Haidian) district in Beijing, so I get by for a lot less. Interesting, I did find a nice little Australian place called "Do-nut," but when I asked to see their menu, they informed me that the doughnuts listed were not available. Hmmm... a doughnut shop with no doughnuts. Only in China. Small wonder the place was empty. But again, as crowded as it may be during the three "Golden Weeks," West Lake is probably the nicest park area I have seen in China. And even during this busy week, I was able to find some solitude if I bothered to get up early enough in the morning.

Zhouzhuang. Zhouzhuang is a small water town south of Suzhou. The main reason I went there is because people from Suzhou recommended it to me. I didn't like it. Some people talk as if this is the "real Suzhou," and in terms of the waterways, you could make that point. But Suzhou is not only known for it's canals. It is also known for it's many old and famous gardens. They are a little expensive, but pretty impressive to see. The main think I hated about Zhouzhuang, though, is that there is absolutely nothing real there. Every shop is a tourist trap. I suppose one could imagine that I should be used to this by now, but the fact is that I have seen several very real "old towns." Sure, Kashgar has tourist shops too, but it also has life. The coppersmith sells his wares to the baker so that he can have his stuff repaired by the blacksmith, who practices his trade so that he can make money to buy bread from the baker. And these are all local people, who have been doing this for 2000 years. But in Zhouzhuang? Nothing. Just multitudes of little tourist shops selling cheap garbage. And if you decide that you don't want to buy, and just want to walk down the street looking at the stone bridges, etc, the price is 100RMB. Zhouzhuang is the only place in China where I have been charged for every brick I stepped on. Save your time, save your money. It's a long, boring ride for a cheap, tawdry experience.

Suzhou. Well, obviously, I have good and bad to say about Suzhou, which should be expected, I guess, because I was robbed in Suzhou. Suzhou, like Hangzhou, is becoming a modern Chinese city, which eats away at it's quaint, traditional beauty. But there are plenty of old, traditional spots left. And many gardens. Old, large gardens. They are definitely not free; you have to pay to see them. I guess one should accept that, because upkeep is a cost that has to be paid for. Suzhou's main problem, I guess, is that it is so close to Shanghai. It is fast becoming a business community. And it is a community that seeks to benefit from the large number of foreign business people. I was propositioned more in Suzhou than any other place in China, except for the Sanlitun Bar Street in Beijing. "Massage fifty, sex 100." Over and over again. The prices varied, but the sales pitch was pretty much the same. And women standing in the doorway of bars calling to me. Obviously they're getting business from someone. But I don't like it, because it has helped to breed a criminal element in that city that is disturbing. This is the one real down side to Suzhou. Hold on to your wallet!

Yesterday afternoon when I got to the train station, I was trying to find the right line for my train. I talked to several people to see which train they were getting on. I was kinda wondering if there was some special part of the train I should go to. A lady noticed my predicament and asked me to follow her. Turns out she had a hard seat ticket, so in her case, the car was specified on her ticket. We went to her car, and she promptly put me in her seat. Then she managed to find a place to sit nearby. By doing this, she managed to secure seats for both of us. Saved me a lot of trouble, because I had a "no seat" ticket, and I might have ended up standing most of the way otherwise. That little bit of human kindness meant that I have been able to sit most of the trip.

It's hard to describe what this is like. All the seats are full, and the "no seat" passengers are crammed in the aisles. And this train is the "man che." A trip like this takes about 12 hours or so on the fast train. This one, I am told, will be 20. Probably a good thing I didn't know that when I bought the ticket. I might not have had the courage, although I have talked to students who have done this for 48 hours going to Xinjiang. I should at least be able to do 20.

I have been on the train now since 3:30 yesterday afternoon, so I have another six hours or so. I don't know...perhaps I should have just called the Software College and had then wire me some money. After all, I'm not doing this to save money. I'm only doing it because I don't have access to ready cash. What can I say? Perhaps things like this happen to encourage me to do something that might give me some insight into the way average people in China live. Something I might consider good to do, but would never get around to. You know, there are some things that we just don't do unless we have to. I think this is one of them.

The slow train is so called because it is relegated to last place in line. It is the train that stops to let the others go by. In this respect, it reminds me of my nightmare journey through California on Amtrak a couple years ago. But in every other respect, this train takes me back to my childhood in northern Japan. Many, many times I rode the slow train. The "donko," they used to call it. Sometimes it got pretty crowded, too. But the difference was that we were usually not on it for more than a few hours at a time. We went to the boarding school on Tuesday on the fast train, and came back on Saturday afternoon on the slow train. It took about three-and-a-half hours to travel about 60 miles. For awhile, when we lived in Honjo, which was closer to the boarding school, I took the train every day. I was in fifth grade then, but I managed to make friends with some high school students. When I got off the train in the morning, they would say, "Meet us in the third car from the end this afternoon." In the afternoon, I would board the train at a little after four, for the one-hour ride to Honjo. I don't remember that as being a miserable experience at all. But it usually wasn't that crowded, and it didn't last that long. The trains were smokier, because they were pulled by coal-fired steam engine locomotives. But I don't remember them being unpleasant. When I got near Honjo, I would go to the area between the train cars, stand on the outside step (the doors were never locked, and were usually left wide open), and watch the platform approach from a distance. As the train was slowing to a stop, I would try to be the first one off the train, jumping off while the train was still moving, as I had seen the businessmen do. A couple times I jumped off a little too early and almost did a cartwheel.

Now, here I am back in Car Number Three. But China is a much bigger country than Japan. The distances are far greater. This train is not as smoky, because the engine is diesel. But it is very, very crowded. This time, it is probably due to the October holiday. I mean, ordinarily, the "hard seat" car would not have all these standing passengers. Makes it tough for them, but also for everyone else. Wall to wall people. It's not all bad--the train windows can be opened manually, so there is always plenty of fresh air. They also serve as the waste basket for everyone. Everything that is not needed is immediately tossed out the window. The country boy sitting across from me, who is wearing a shirt that says, "Persue the Parson's Beutifulhood," sat down with his stuff, took the foodstuffs he had bought for the trip out of their bag and promptly pushed the bag through the open window. Every time he finishes a bottle or something, he tosses it out. China is a big country, right?

But the main problem, really, is that moving is just about impossible. Last night, I was getting a little stir crazy, and talked a few students into going with me to the dining car. We are in the third car, and the dining car is Number Nine. It was an unbelievable experience. Several people were standing, but others were squatting, or even lying on the floor. It took quite awhile to traverse the six cars to the dining car, and when we got there, we discovered that the regular meal time was over. I had planned for us to by two or three dishes, and then share the cost. But it was not to be. The only option was for us to buy lunch kits, which were 25RMB each. I knew the students would not want to pay this much, so I suggested that we buy a couple and split them. But the big mama running the dining car put thumbs down to that idea. If four people want to sit, they need to buy four lunch kits. So, we decided to leave. But we didn't want to crawl over all those people again, so we waited until the train stopped at the next station, and then walked back on the platform, along with two more students we picked up in the dining car.

Just going to the bathroom is a real chore. You have to somehow weave your way through the crowd of people, then wait in line until everyone else who had the same idea is through. The bathroom is very small, but there is enough room to turn around. But there are lots of people who want to use it. They go in in pairs, especially the women. When it was my turn, another guy forced his way in with me and started doing his thing. What could I do? I let him go first. I don't want to give the wrong impression, now. He was really nice about it and everything. Still, should there not be some moment in a persons life that is truly private? By the way, that reminds me. If you ever do a run like this, wear boots. Don't do this in sandals. Believe it or not, though, I have seen women wearing sandals on this train. Why would they do that? Women in China posses an extraordinary sense of humanity. How can they manage to be so lady-like in such a profoundly unwomanly world? They always roll up their pant legs when they go to the bathroom, and I don't see that many of them wearing dresses, but their determination to maintain their humanity in a cattle car like this is impressive.

But I have to be careful, now. I call this the "cattle car," as an expression of what it is like, but don't get a picture in your mind of a bunch of people (like the Jews in Hitler's Germany) scrunched together with no food or water. That's not what this is like. There is plenty of food. Every once in awhile, a guy forces his way down the aisle with a small cart of stuff for sale cheap. And then there are always the platform vendors who will sell you stuff through the window. In some respects, this arrangement is ingenious, because it allows very large numbers of people to travel at a rate that is very very inexpensive (about 10 US dollars for the trip from Suzhou to Beijing). But if you are given to claustrophobia, I really don't recommend it. When people get off the train, they don't take their luggage with them. They can't. They get off themselves, then come back along the side of the train and have other passengers hand their luggage through the window. I don't have to worry about getting off, because I am going to Beijing, where the train terminates. But I have wormed my way through the crowd and gotten off several times anyway, because I need to stretch my legs once in awhile. Anything to keep from doing a Joey ("I don't want to be here!").

Yesterday morning I took my passbook to the Bank of China to draw out a little money. They told me I could not do it, because my passbook is only valid in the Beijing area. I also had a passbook for ICBC with me. But when I went to that bank, I got the same response. This is confusing to me. I have used the bank cards for both banks all over China. But my cards were stolen so I cannot use them. I had put my passbooks in my luggage as a failsafe. Not a very good one, as it turned out.

In the afternoon, I went to the train station to see about a ticket. No soft sleeper. No hard sleeper. No soft seat. No hard seat. That would seem to be it. At least, that's what I tell everybody--that there are four categories of tickets in China. There is actually a fifth: No seat. A "no seat" ticket has no car number and no seat number on it. You get on the train, but you have to stand in the aisle. It is China's way of dealing with the massive number of laobaixing who want to travel during the national holiday. I have purchased a ticket like this before. It was last year, when I was teaching in Zhengzhou, and took a day trip to Kaifeng. It's a mad cattle rush, as everyone tries to be the first one to get a seat. But after all, that was only a one-hour run.

I told the guy at the window I would think about it, especially since they were not even selling "no seat" tickets for yesterday. Only for today. I went to the local police station near the train station and worked with the officer there to fill out a report on the theft. His English was not strong, but he was very nice and very helpful. Somehow, we managed to communicate.

After filling out the police report, I went back to the train station, and decided to buy the ticket. Strangely, the guy I had talked to before seemed to have gone off duty, so I ended up going to a different window. The lady told me that they actually did have a soft sleeper ticket for the evening. But alas, I did not have enough money for that. So I decided to buy the "manche" (slow train) ticket. Pity.

This little restaurant/coffee bar is called "Provence" (not sure why the French name), and is located across the canal from the Youth Hostel. The proprietors are from Taiwan, and the lady who works here told me that I am the third person this week in their coffee bar who has had a wallet stolen.

My wallet was stolen yesterday. At least I think it was stolen. That's the only thing I can figure. I noticed it missing when I got off the bus. The city bus, that is. I had gone down to Zhouzhuang, the old water city, for the day, and had just come back to Suzhou. I got on another city bus and when I was ready to get off, I noticed that my wallet was missing. Very strange. I think it was a pickpocket. I had some money and my bank books in my luggage at the Youth Hostel, so I should be alright, but it is a matter of getting my ATM cards replaced. In the end it will probably be more of a nuisance than anything, but I did have some money in my wallet, and anyway, I just don't like being robbed.

You know, it is very interesting how you notice things differently at a time like this. Last night I opened my Bible and for some reason, found the text in Habakkuk that says,

"Though the fig tree does not blossom, and no fruit is on the vine; though the produce of the olive fails and the fields yield no food; though the flock is cut off from the fold and there is no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will exult in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, and makes me tread upon the heights. To the leader: with stringed instruments." (Habakkuk 3:17-19)

The last line is particularly striking. I have read it many times, but I never really paid attention to it until I read it this morning in the NRSV (Official Bible of the TSPM). This song is ordered to be played on stringed instruments. It's a symphony. An orchestration. A superlative declaration of faith in a loving God.

This morning, I was going through my normal Bible reading regimen, and found this verse in Psalm 52:

"The righteous will see, and fear, and will laugh at the evil doer, saying, 'See the one who would not take refuge in God, but trusted in abundant riches, and sought refuge in wealth.!'"

Am I like this? Or was I becoming like this? I am not wealthy, but that is a matter of perspective, I suppose. But the question for me to ponder, really, is what do I really trust in? Where is my security? It is good to ponder such things at a time like this.

"But I am like a green olive tree in the house of God. I trust in steadfast love of God forever and ever, because of what you have done."

Or try this one:

"When God restores the fortunes of his people, Jacob will rejoice; Israel will be glad."

Things like this that remind us who is our real strength and security are really blessings in disguise. God will work everything out. You'll see.

Got off the canal boat this morning about 6am. I was immediately swarmed by rickshaw drivers who wanted to charge me exorbitant prices. I finally met a guy with a van who offered a price close to par with a taxi price. When he dropped me off at the youth hostel, he asked me for two American dollars. Interesting...he would rather have American money. Not sure what good a couple US bucks would do, but perhaps he is establishing a collection.

As soon as I checked in at the youth hostel, I told them I needed a ticket to Beijing. This place is very clean, but they don't seem to have the travel services I have come to expect from Youth Hostels. I don't think it is because they are lazy. I think it is because, for some reason, they have not been able to establish the back channel connections needed to negotiate travel arrangements for travelers. The guy at the youth hostel told me how to get to the train station. At the bus stop, I met a lady who was on her way to Shanghai. She said she was leaving on the 9am train. I thought perhaps this might be an option. Sure enough, when I got to the ticket window, the lady told me there were no sleeper tickets. I decided on the spot to go to Shanghai. Shanghai is only an hour from Suzhou, so it is easy to get a ticket from here to there, since trains run throughout the day. There are five trains a day from Shanghai to Beijing, so with luck, I should be able to get a sleeper ticket to Beijing as soon as I get to the Shanghai station. I used this method once before, in the summer of 2004 when I was out in Yunnan Province. Couldn't manage to get a ticket from Kunming to Beijing, so I bought a ticket to Shanghai, and had no trouble buying a ticket to Beijing once I got to Shanghai.

This evening, I was walking back toward the Youth Hostel, when I passed a bunch of expats standing and sitting by tables on the sidewalk outside an expat bar. I got into a conversation with a German engineer who is working for his company at an industrial park constructed by a company from Singapore. Both in his industry (automotive), in the IT industry (such as IC design) and other areas, Suzhou is becoming an extension of Shanghai. It is just a little bit too far to be a bedroom community for Shanghai, but close enough to be an extension of the massive commercial activity surrounding that city. The German told me that his company has contracts for manufacturing that allow it to operate at a much lower cost than if everything were done in Germany, but the tradeoff is that they are not allowed to do anything unless they train local people. China does not allow these companies to just come in and use workers. They must not only pay them, they must give them technology. In this manner, China is inheriting the technology of the industrialized nations.

In one sense, this seems fair to me. Before the Communist revolution, Western commercial involvement in China was entirely exploitive. Western companies came to China, took the money, and left. China is now cashing in on the desire of Western based companies to lower costs by moving manufacturing operations to China. But I do see problems with this. So far, China has made most of its money as a "factory for the world." But they are not satisfied with that, nor should they be. After all, Japan did not become an economic powerhouse merely by manufacturing other countries' designs. Japan made megabucks by coping foreign designs and reengineering them. Improving them. This requires significant innovation. This level of innovation was possible, in large part, because of the great measure of freedom brought in by the post-World War II reforms of General Macarthur. China is trying to become an innovative, creative society, while still maintaining the right to control the way people think. Will she be able to pull it off? I am skeptical. There must be much greater freedom of thought and expression if there is going to be greater creativity. I understand that China must be careful about this change. And I certainly don't advocate American style freedom. But if you want people to be able to think for themselves and innovate, you must begin to develop a society and culture where that kind of thing is encouraged.

My berth on the river boat.
Sitting here in the galley of the river boat, which is wending its way through the Grand Canal to Suzhou. It's almost one o'clock in the morning, but I went to bed at 8:30, so now I'm wide awake--one of those things. Actually, this boat is not overly crowded. I'm the only one in my cabin, but there are large vent holes in the bulkhead, so if I keep the light on, it might disturb my kind neighbors. So, I came up here to the galley. No one here except one sailor playing solitaire.

The Grand Canal, all told, is some 1000 miles in length. The northern portion is largely silted in, I'm told, due to lack of use, and therefore, lack of maintenance, but the southern part is still used quite heavily. This section between Hangzhou and Suzhou was built in the Seventh Century, but has been refurbished recently. Well, that is, if you can call the Ming Dynasty recently. Four hundred years isn't that long, right? Remember, we're talking about China.

I boarded this old tub last night at about 6 pm. My neighbors invited me into their cabin. They were eating some delicious jerky or something. It was a very tasty roast beef. I sat there with them for awhile, but I didn't want to eat all their food, so I went up the galley. You know how it is in a Chinese restaurant--you order several dishes, then share them. But when you're alone, it's awkward. So I just ordered a plate of green vegetables. Some other folks saw me and invited me to their table. I appreciated their generosity, but you know, it's a bit awkward, too. Here's the problem: If you are by yourself, you end up eating a little bit of each dish and leaving the rest. But if you are invited by some strangers, they won't let you pay, so you feel like a bum, and that's not good either. When I was a kid hitchhiking across the country, then I was a bum. People would always buy food for me. But that doesn't bother me so much. Kids are kids. They're supposed to be bums. A little. But now, I'm 52 years old. I don't mind paying my own way, I just don't want to buy and pay for a meal for three people and then throw two thirds of it away.

Bought a little notebook "made with future technology for tomorrow's outstanding achievers." I think I'm going to have to go over to one of those used computer markets in Zhonguancun and get an old mini laptop. Doesn't have to have much memory--just enough for writing. Not much of a monitor either, I can just set the font up. I just hate transcribing from notebooks. This happens every time I travel. I scribble my disjointed musings in a notebook, then have to have to sit down at a computer and transcribe it later--a tedious task even when I can read my own writing. My laptop in Beijing is perfect for lugging to the coffee bar, but too big to take in my backpack, mainly because I'm not willing to give up my 15 inch monitor. It's really like having a portable desktop computer. But I tend to leave it at home on trips like this. If I had one of those really tiny things just for writing, then I wouldn't have to write everything twice.

Sitting here in quiet contemplation. The mornings in Hangzhou are good for that--cool and misty. The sky will be blue later, but just now the morning fog hangs a translucent curtain over the quiet waters of West Lake. Tough to find solitude in this place--much easier in the morning than in the evening. But every man needs time for reflection. The October holiday. Why am I here? What is my real goal in life? What is my dream? When I am 90 years old sitting in my rocking chair and looking back on my life, what will I want to be able to see that I have accomplished? How does the way I live my life support those accomplishments? Is there anything in my life that militates against them? How much of my time and money is spent on that which will still have value five years from now? Ten years from now? Where is the next bend in the road, and what lies beyond it? Are there steps I should take to bring it about, or should I just let it happen? Are there any signs of a needed change that I need to pay closer attention to?

Click for larger image.
Hangzhou International Youth Hostel. Well, Marco Polo was right. Hangzhou really is a pretty place. Actually, Hangzhou as it is today probably doesn't bear much resemblance to the Hangzhou he saw, but West Lake is still here. The area around West Lake is one of the nicest park areas in China. Problem is, the secret's out. There are lots and lots of people in this place. Part of that, to be sure, is because of the holiday; I think it would be quite a bit more livable during an ordinary week.

The large boat tour is 45 RMB, which isn't too bad, but if I had it to do over again, I think I would take the small boat tour (80 RMB), because you have more flexibility. When I got to the last location on the large boat tour, I asked them how to get to the boat that goes back to the starting point. You know what they said? "Have a nice walk." So the deal is, they put you on a boat, drop you off in the middle of nowhere, and tell you to walk back. It's all pretty disorganized. But I didn't complain too much, because the afternoon was very pretty, and the walk around the lake was pleasant, if tiring. But if you aren't up to lots and lots of walking, you might want to consider hiring a small boat; they will take you wherever you want to go.

Beijing--Hangzhou Express. "In heaven there is paradise, on earth, Suzhou and Hangzhou." I am out to see if the old adage still holds true. Not sure yet if I will go to Suzhou or not. If I can get a ticket on the canal boat, I probably will go there. China has three "Golden Weeks." One in the fall, built around National Day, one during Spring Festival (traditional Chinese New Year), when absolutely everyone in China goes home, and one in May just after May Day. It's hard to describe what it is like to travel in a country where all working people take their vacations at exactly the same time. Fortunately, the train system in China is very well organized. I think they must have put on some extra cars or something, because amazingly, I had no trouble getting a sleeper ticket to Hangzhou. Didn't have to go through an agent, didn't have to keep coming back day after day. Just walked to the ticket window near the University and bought a ticket. They did tell me that there were no bottom bunks available, but that is a very small problem. Either one works for me.

Perhaps the availability has something to do with the fact that I did not plan to leave until Tuesday of vacation week. National Day was Sunday, so I guess the outbound rush had subsided by the time I bought my ticket.

Went with Nancy and Lydia to the English mass at the South Cathedral this morning. The priest was talking about the difference between Protestants and Catholics. I haven't been to very many Catholic masses in my life, but this sermon was interesting. Most of the time when I go to a Catholic church, it's a sermon about the Eucharist. Anyway, this guy was saying that in the Catholic church, they tend to emphasize the Eucharist, while the Protestants emphasize preaching the Word of God. For this reason, he said, Protestants have become better preachers. Not sure if I agree with that--good preachers are rare among Protestants too. But I have heard this comment before. It was Father Dale in Arizona. When I was going to Word of Grace, Pastor Kinnaman did a couple of sermons on Protestants and Catholics. One of them was on what Protestants can learn from Catholics, and one of them was on what Catholics can learn from Protestants. When Kinnamon asked Father Dale what Catholics can learn from Protestants, he said that he thought Protestants were better preachers. But Father Dale said something else that stuck with me. He was asked why he chose to remain single. He said, "I felt that if I was willing to remain single, I could love more people." There is a lot of truth to that statement. If your primary objective in life is to share God's love with people, you may be able to do this more efficiently as a single person.

In China, Catholic churches are not allowed to operated openly and legally unless they declare independence from the Vatican. But ironically, the average Catholic in China is probably more loyal to the Pope than the average Catholic in America. This is because Catholics in China are very traditional. In fact, when I went up to take the Eucharist, they only gave me the wafer. Only the Body of Christ. I felt like saying, "Where is the blood? I need the blood!" (I held my tongue; don't worry.) This is the way things used to be in the Catholic Church. But every time I have been to a Catholic mass in the U.S., I have always been offered both.

Like the woman at the well I was seeking
For the things that could not satisfy:
And then I heard my Savior speaking:
"Draw from my well that never shall run dry."

Fill my cup, Lord, I lift it up, Lord!
Come and quench this thirsting of my soul;
Bread of heaven, Feed me till I want no more,
Fill my cup, fill it up and make me whole!

After mass, we went to a Yunnan restaurant near the South Cathedral and had rice noodle soup. I love rice noodle soup. After lunch, Nancy and I left for the Square. Today is National Day in China (sorta like Independence Day in the States). It commemorates the day in 1949, when Mao stood on Tiananmen Gate and said, "China has stood up!"

We often get together for fellowship on Sunday afternoon, but I thought since today is National Day, it would be kinda nice to go to the Square and pray for China. In America, it is considered good citizenship to criticize one's country. I cannot say anything bad about that, because I am not above pointing out things I see from time to time that could use improvement. But you know, the Bible never exhorts us to criticize our leaders. It tells us to pray for them. It's not easy to lead a country like China. I certainly wouldn't want the job. As a foreigner living in China, I sometimes feel out of place occasionsons like National Day. What can I do for this country that has been so hospitable to me? Well, even though it might not seem like much, I thought that one thing I could do is to offer a prayer of blessing for China on this special day.

I had suggested we meet at the Monument to the People's Heros. But it was not that great a plan, because the Monument was fenced off some ways back, so the perimeter turned out to be a very big area. In the front of the Monument, a huge portrait of Sun Yat-sen had been erected. This was very interesting to me. Sun Yat-sen is known as the first president of China, although he only occupied the office for three months. But he is regarded by a hero by the Communist Party, because he was a revolutionary. He was the husband of Soong Ching-ling, who was a non-communist friend of China during the Mao years. And he is also revered in Taiwan, because he was the founder of the KMT (Guomingdang). So the decision to use his portrait instead of Mao's seems to be an attempt to reach out to those from Taiwan who would never be able to identify with Mao. Anyway, I met three of the others as I was standing there looking at this portrait. But somehow, Joy never found us. And it turns out that I didn't pick the best meeting place, because several people had trouble getting a cell phone signal in the center of the Square. My Xiaolingtong didn't work, but my cell phone did. But Joy's cell phone didn't, so none of us could reach her. But four of us were somehow able to find each other.

Take it from me, Tiananmen Sqaure on National Day is not really the best venue for a prayer meeting. It's way too noisy. Not to mention crowded. People mountain, people sea. But we managed. Right there in the middle of the square with Sun Yat-sen smiling down on us. But mainly with a loving God hearing us. We gathered as two or three (actually four), and I think we all felt God's presence. When we had finished praying, we noticed that a man with a bright white shirt and dark sunglasses was standing there listening to us. He waited for us to finish, then pulled out his badge and asked us what we were doing. Turned out he was a plainclothes police officer. We told him that we were praying for China because it was National Day. I think the guy was relieved that we were not terrorists, or something. He put his hands together to show his respect, then moved on.

After our time of prayer together, we walked to McDonald's on Wangfujing Street. Star told us that her grandfather had been a KMT officer before 1949. He was the only one in his group who did not go to Taiwan. During the Cultural Revolution, he committed suicide. She also had a grandmother who was in Nanjing during the massacre. The Twentieth Century was a painful time for China. Surely God has ordained a time of blessing and opportunity for China during these days. We must continue to pray for this country.