Chengdu Diary
 
 
April 30, 2009

Collecting History One Record at a Time

By Andrea Hsu

The other day we walked into a warehouse and into the mind of a fanatic collector.

We were visiting the Jianchuan Museum Cluster built by government official-turned-real estate mogul Fan Jianchuan. Construction workers buzz about, finishing up a new earthquake museum that will open on May 12, 2009 at 2:28 pm, the moment the quake struck. We'll have more on that next week.

Museum Hall

By May 12, 2009, the anniversary of the earthquake, these halls will be filled with artifacts collected in the month after the quake. Andrea Hsu/NPR

 

The earthquake museum is one of 25 museums planned for a sprawling campus an hour's drive from Chengdu. Sadly, we had no time to walk through the galleries that already exist, but we did get a drive-by tour with a woman from Fan's office. There's the museum on the War of Resistance Against Japan, with photos of Chinese POWs collected from Japanese archives. There's the museum on Communist Party history, the Long March and all. There's the museum on the Flying Tigers, the only museum in China dedicated to the US military. Staff dressed in Sichuan military uniforms stand guard outside each.

Two weeks before its opening, the earthquake museum was still just a shell, so we asked to see the warehouse where artifacts are stored. As we stood outside waiting for someone to open the oversized metal doors, we had no idea what we were in for.

Cultural Revolution Records

Fan Jianchuan has collected more than 50,000 records from the Cultural Revolution era. Andrea Hsu/NPR

 

In several cavernous rooms are tables and tables of newspapers, shelf after shelf of housewares - teapots and mugs, wash basins and bowls, stacks of mirrors, some with images of Mao, and more than 50,000 record albums, all from the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976). Except for the newspapers, these are things that I remember seeing in people's homes in the 1980s and 90s and for sale in Beijing's dirt market in the late 90s. But seeing these things by the thousands was a whole different experience.

One of the major campaigns of the Cultural Revolution was the Destruction of the Four Olds: Old Customs, Old Culture, Old Habits, and Old Ideas. Just about anything pre-1949 was subject to destruction.

Fan tells us he collects so that people will remember.

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April 29, 2009

Ready For May Day

by Melissa Block

A brief floral update from Chengdu: the huge May 1st flower display in Tianfu Square that I described earlier is fully enflowered and ready for Friday's holiday.

A flowery 5-1 display in Chengdu, China, for May Day. Photo: Melissa Block, NPR.

The giant 5/1 in the heart of Chengdu is now fully festooned with flowers, ready to greet the crowds on Friday's May Day celebration. Melissa Block/NPR

 

(In case you're wondering, the numbers 5 and 1 are made up of red poinsettias by the thousands - all poked through a wicker frame. The orange and yellow flowers are marigolds; the pink ones are begonias.)

The last big public gathering I saw in Tianfu Square was on May 19th of last year: a moment of silence rally to mark the one week anniversary of the earthquake . People had flocked to the center of Chengdu by the thousands. They brought huge floral tissue-paper wreaths and wore white carnations in honor of the dead. The moment of silence segued into an outpouring of raucous and emotional patriotic chanting, as the people gathered in the square wept and raised their fists in the air and shouted, "Stand up! Be strong! Go China go!"

I'll be curious to go back to Tianfu Square this Friday to see what the May Day celebration is all about.

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April 28, 2009

Twins of a Sort Across the Earthquake Zone

By Andrea Hsu

Very soon after the earthquake last year, the Chinese government announced a twinning program: the 20 counties or areas most seriously affected by the quake were "twinned" with other Chinese provinces or municipalities, who were ordered to help with reconstruction to the tune of 1 percent of their annual GDP for three years. Many have sent workers as part of the deal.

Bridge Changshu

A bridge in Tumen, Mianzhu County is repaired thanks to donations from Changshu City in Jiangsu Province, though in this case the workers were hired locally. Andrea Hsu/NPR

 

Beichuan was twinned with Shandong Province in eastern China. Wenchuan with Guangdong Province in the south. Shifang with Beijing. Dujiangyan with Shanghai. You get the idea.

Everywhere you go in the quake zone, you see signs of this twinning program - literally: A huge billboard as you enter Beichuan County that declares "Thanks to our motherland, thanks to Shandong Province." A banner in front of a bridge under repair that reads "Construction Compliments of Changshu City." Characters stenciled onto the sides of all the temporary housing barracks that say "Donated by (fill in the blank) Province/City." I first noticed these characters in Yingxiu, because the barracks there were donated by the city of Dongguan, my mother's ancestral home.

Barracks Jiangxi

Barracks in this transitional housing camp in Pengzhou were donated by Jiangxi Province. Andrea Hsu/NPR

 

In Mianzhu, which is paired with eastern Jiangsu Province, there is even a whole housing development going up in the style of Suzhou, the ancient water town on the Yangtze River.

Traveling from place to place, you do see some discrepancies in the quality of the temporary camps that have gone up. In one camp in Dujiangyan, for example, there are paved roads and paths throughout and even a playground donated by TCL, a Chinese mobile phone and television manufacturer. Elsewhere, the walkways are brick and overgrown with grass, and the only form of recreation seems to be wandering around new construction. I do wonder what this means for the long-term development of these places, and whether this part of Sichuan will end up being as much of an economic patchwork as the rest of China.

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A Magical Meal From Humble Surroundings

by Melissa Block

I want to tell you about one of the best meals I've had on my trip here so far. It wasn't the fanciest by far. No lacquered bowls or Chinese lanterns or lovely waitresses in embroidered silk cheongsams. No tablecloths or glassware. Instead, there were eight of us huddled knee to knee around two tiny tables, every inch filled with a hodgepodge of shallow bowls.

I was visiting a 12-year-old girl named Huang Meihua at the "transitional school" where she lives with her mother, Yan Xiaosong, and her father, Huang Sheqin. (You'll hear more about Meihua during our May 4th broadcast week on All Things Considered.) Meihua and her parents share a small room in one of the ubiquitous prefab barracks sprinkled all over Sichuan province as temporary post-earthquake housing. The barracks are cold in the winter; boiling hot in the summer. There's no soundproofing and precious little privacy.

At one end of the room the family has set up a low platform with a rice cooker and one gas burner for their wok. No sink, no refrigerator. Somehow, out of these humble surroundings, Yan Xiaorong created a seven course country feast.

A Chinese feast. Photo: Melissa Block, NPR.

Five of the seven dishes Yan Xiaorong cooked for lunch. Clockwise from center top: sliced cucumber with pig's ear (very spicy - I didn't try); cold noodles with scallions; la rou, or cured pork, a wonderful speciality from the Sichuan countryside; zhiergen, an earthy, chewy, sour leafy vegetable; peas with cabbage. Not shown: smoked tofu stir fried with pork, and jue cai, a sort of Chinese fiddlehead fern with a sweet taste. Melissa Block/NPR

 

Earlier, Yan Xiaorong had taken four buses and a ferryboat to go back to their flattened village to get the cured pork and the jue cai for our lunch.

Now, this meal posed an etiquette conundrum. These are people who've been left with virtually nothing and are living in hardship. Their lives are tough enough; the last thing we wanted to do was create more work for them and have them pay for our food. At the same time, it would have been rude in the extreme to turn down the food that Yan Xiaorong so carefully prepared. So, we figured out a middle path. We decided to supplement their generous meal by bringing in additional food prepared at a local restaurant (not nearly as tasty, I might add.) See - no matter where you go - Chinese takeout to the rescue!

Chinese takeout. Photo: Melissa Block, NPR.

Foreground: Yan Xiaorong's pork with smoked tofu. Background: Chinese takeout. Melissa Block/NPR

 

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April 27, 2009

Dujiangyan Revisited: A Ruined City, One Year Later

by Melissa Block

Had a drive through the city of Dujiangyan over the weekend. It's quite close to Chengdu, but while this provincial capital came through the quake pretty much unscathed, Dujiangyan was a very different story. It was closer to the epicenter and the destruction was severe.

When I was in Dujiangyan last year four days after the earthquake, I saw crowds of people waiting anxiously outside the traditional Chinese Medicine Hospital. Part of the hospital had collapsed, and excavators were clawing through the rubble, uncovering bodies.

Hospital workers outside the traditional Chinese Medicine Hospital in Dujiangyan, China, in 2008. Photo: Melissa Block, NPR.

Hospital workers outside the traditional Chinese Medicine Hospital in Dujiangyan one year ago, as the military stands guard.Melissa Block/NPR

 

Down the street from the hospital, this store window gave me a jolt for an instant before I realized these were just mannequins.

Mannequins in a storefront window after the 2008 earthquake. Photo: Melissa Block, NPR.

Soon after the 2008 earthquake, these mannequins in a storefront window made a startling tableau. Melissa Block/NPR

 

Back then, people by the thousands were living in makeshift tents on the street; if they were lucky, they were sleeping on whatever bits of furniture they were able to scavenge from their ruined homes. All the stores were closed.

Today, Dujiangyan is a study in contrasts. Some buildings are perfectly fine. Shops are bustling. Kids climb on playground equipment in crowded fast food restaurants. This store tempts shoppers with gold jewelry from Hong Kong.

Dujiangyan in 2009 includes bustling streets. Photo: Melissa Block, NPR.

Dujiangyan today: This upscale jewelry store tempts shoppers with a bright storefront. Melissa Block/NPR

 

But just around the corner, you'll see massive destruction that still takes your breath away.

One of countless destroyed apartment buildings still standing in Dujiangyan, China, in 2009. Photo: Melissa Block, NPR

One of countless destroyed apartment buildings still standing in Dujiangyan. Melissa Block/NPR

 

Wherever you turn, you'll find block after block of buildings that were ripped apart or collapsed from the force of the earthquake. It's brutally obvious that much of this city will have to be torn down.

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Getting Ready For May Day

by Melissa Block

Here in Chengdu, they're getting ready for May Day. The May 1st holiday used to mean a week's vacation - a "Golden Week" - but the Chinese government shortened the holiday a couple of years ago to try to eliminate travel chaos. This year, since May 1st falls on a Friday, it's really just a long weekend.

Check out the holiday floral display that was being put together when I went out for a morning walk today to Tianfu Square. Orange and yellow marigolds, yellow pansies, and pink and red begonias by the thousands - they'll all become part of a giant 5 1 for May 1st, right in the heart of Chengdu:

Chengdu Flowers

May 1 conveyed through flowers in Tianfu Square Melissa Block/NPR

 

Mao Statue

The enormous statue of Chairman Mao in Tianfu Square, in the heart of Chengdu. Melissa Block/NPR

 

There's a lot of planting going on in the cities here - you'll see huge teams of workers in orange vests prettifying medians and parks and squares. These workers today were working just across the street from the gigantic statue of Chairman Mao which towers over the heart of Chengdu.

A few days ago, Mao was covered with green scaffolding, getting some pre-holiday sprucing up. I guess his microdermabrasion is complete; the scaffolding is gone and he's ready to greet the crowds for May Day this coming Friday.

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April 25, 2009

Finding an NPR Listener in Sichuan

By Andrea Hsu

One of the most rewarding parts of this job is meeting people who say, "Oh, I heard those organic farmers talking about how they don't have health insurance..." or "I'll never forget that woman who said 'We are not refugees, we are survivors!'"

Well, we had a moment like that the other day when we met Lawrence Liang.

Lawrence Liang

Lawrence Liang in the Tumen Township field office of Build Change. Andrea Hsu/NPR

 

Lawrence is the design team leader for Build Change, a non-profit that's helping rural families in Tumen Township build earthquake resistant homes. So he's looking at structural designs and materials, that sort of thing. He was born in China, moved to the US when he was 13, and graduated from UC Santa Barbara with a degree in mechanical engineering. He'd been working in the aerospace field, and much of his work was on weapons programs. He told us he was getting tired of that and wanted to do something a little more positive, a little more fulfilling.

He was in the Bay area when the earthquake struck and says he heard our reporting from Sichuan, including a story about a doctor who lost his daughter in the quake.

"That was really a touching report," Lawrence told us the other day. "I guess that kind of influenced me to come to China in a way, to really see what happened here."

What Lawrence must have heard was Robert Siegel's story from Hanwang, which is only about fifteen or twenty miles from where Build Change is working now.

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April 24, 2009

The Smallest Of People, The Biggest Of Impressions

by Andrea Hsu

Building on Melissa's last post, sometimes it's the youngest people in the quake zone who leave me with the deepest impressions.

Yesterday in Pengzhou, a bit more than hour outside of Chengdu, new rural homes are going up. The families that will live here used to be scattered across the land, in one-story homes built around courtyards. Their news lives will take shape in these suburban-like blocks of two-story homes, right next to the road that leads to Chengdu.

Boy in construction zone

New rural housing sprouts up in Pengzhou, next to the road that leads to Chengdu. Andrea Hsu/NPR

 

As I caught a glimpse of this toddler wandering through the construction, his small hands clasping a bag of snacks that he munched on as he explored, I was reminded of another child I spotted last May, in the village of Xiang'e.

Boy in Xiang'e tent camp

Back in May 2008, it was tent cities like this one in Xiang'e that were sprouting up across the region. Andrea Hsu/NPR

 

I'd wondered then, two weeks after the quake, what, if anything, a child that small would remember about the quake. Yesterday had me thinking about what growing up in the new Chinese countryside will mean both for the children and for the country.

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A Young Girl's Inspiring Determination

by Melissa Block

Today I witnessed a small moment that transported me 7,600 miles back home.

A young Chinese girl in a housing camp practices writing. Photo: Melissa Block, NPR.

Writing practice after school. Melissa Block/NPR

I was in one of Sichuan's countless transitional housing camps - the dreary, prefab barracks set up everywhere for those whose homes were destroyed in the earthquake. I was talking with a woman in the small room she shares with her husband and two daughters. She had a pot of rice cooking and the room was tidy, even though every inch of usable space was filled.

Then, in walked her five-year-old daughter, Liu Yang, with bright orange pom-poms in her hair, home from school. Right away, without a word, she opened up her pencil case, sat down on the couch, spread out a small notebook on a blue plastic stool, and solemnly started practicing writing her Chinese characters. I've seen that exact same look of serious intensity on my 6-year-old daughter Chloe's face when she sits down, pencil clasped tightly in hand, to do her homework. It's the look of a child determined to do her best. And in the case of the girl I met today, determined to do her best even under the worst circumstances.

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April 23, 2009

A Reporter's Dilemma: The Boundaries Of Speech

by Melissa Block

I've been thinking today about this contradiction: saying too little and asking too much.

First, saying too little. This morning as we drove by the main square here in Chengdu, we noticed throngs of policemen in dark blue uniforms herding people onto two big tour buses. It was clear that the police were breaking up a protest of some sort - the people on the buses were pressing sheets of paper with printed messages to the bus windows. A police loudspeaker broadcast the message, "These people were breaking the law! Please disperse!" and warned that spectators might get in trouble, too. It turned out the protesters were government workers who were demonstrating over missing pension payments. "At least let us be able to feed ourselves!" they shouted as they were moved onto the buses to be taken away. The gigantic statue of Chairman Mao that stands at one end of Tianfu Square watched over the tumult.

Now, if I'd been in the States, my instinct would have been to jump out of the cab and start rolling tape and asking questions. But here, I'm very mindful that I stand out as a western reporter, and that authorities are keeping tabs on what we do and where we go. As the earthquake anniversary approaches, new rules require that Western media register with local authorities in each area we want to visit, and get a media pass.

I'm not used to muzzling myself or my curiosity as a reporter, and this was an uncomfortable thought: do I write about this protest? will I jeopardize our long-planned stay here if I do? how sensitive an issue is this? how much self-censorship can I stand? Even as I write this blog post, I'm choosing my words very carefully.

Contrast that reticence with my discomfort over whether I'm asking too much. I spent today talking with survivors of the earthquake who were left with traumatic injuries. Nearly one year after the earthquake, they're still in the hospital. In the course of our conversations, I would ask them to describe what happened to them during the earthquake - how long they were trapped under the debris - how they were finally rescued - if others around them died. I tried to do this with sensitivity and care, but I knew I was asking them to relive an unimaginably agonizing chapter of their lives. They answered me with grace and candor.

I know I'll be having many more conversations like this over the next few weeks, and I'll have in the back of my mind the haunting story of Feng Xiang, a local public affairs official in Beichuan, who committed suicide on Monday. Feng's seven-year-old son was killed in the earthquake last May. On the day he hanged himself, Feng wrote a blog post which included these exhausted words: "I really find it too painful to be living. Please let me rest."

I've been thinking that in his job with the local government, Feng would likely have dealt with reporters like me: bringing people to the disaster area and answering their questions about what happened, over and over. How might that have compounded his grief?

In his final blog post, Feng addressed his dead son, Feng Hanmo: "I will come to you and be together with you forever. Please believe in a father's deepest love for you." On Wednesday, Feng Xiang was buried under a tree at a primary school where his son is also buried.

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April 22, 2009

Life In Transition

by Melissa Block

Two rows of shelter at the Tumen transitional housing camp. Photo: Melissa Block, NPR.

Two rows of shelter at the Tumen transitional housing camp. Melissa Block/NPR

 
Zhou Hong Fang prepares a patch of land for planting. Photo: Melissa Block, NPR.

Zhou Hong Fang prepares a patch of land for planting. Melissa Block/NPR

I got my first view of a transitional housing camp yesterday - a collection of rows and rows of long, prefab shelters with blue roofs that are now home for some of the millions left homeless by the earthquake. This one was outside of Mianzhu, about two hours from the Sichuan capital, Chengdu. You can imagine that life inside these crowded camps would be wearing quite thin by now, almost a year on; people would be anxious to get into permanent homes.

It was quiet at midday - some sounds of lunch being prepared, people washing at a line of outdoor faucets. A few pieces of yellow and blue outdoor exercise equipment weren't being used when I visited, but they were nice to see - any bit of distraction or exercise must help.

I talked briefly with an older woman named Zhou Hong Fang who was busy with a hoe, digging up a small plot of land outside her shelter. The dirt she'd overturned was mixed in with a good amount of trash that had been dumped there - a plastic cup, some pieces of cloth - but she was intent on turning this bit of land into a small garden for garlic and green onions. One row away someone had planted leafy green vegetables. Small swatches of home in an impermanent place.

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Feeling the Pace of Reconstruction

By Andrea Hsu

There's been lots in the news about how quickly the Chinese government wants to rebuild and get people into new homes - all rural residents by the end of this year. Today, in a village outside of Mianzhu, we got a feel for how that might be accomplished.

2008 camp

These folks work seven days a week, nine hours a day. The homeowners think they'll be in their houses by summer. Andrea Hsu/NPR

 

We spent the afternoon on a construction site, and somehow, we were always in the way of someone. First, it was the guys who were piling up bricks within a new foundation. Then it was a guy with a wheelbarrow full of freshly-mixed mortar. Then, two guys carrying a wood plank used to shape a foundation. At one point, getting out of the way of someone hauling something landed my right foot in a deep muddy puddle. Fortunately I was wearing waterproof boots.

In the US, I couldn't imagine walking onto a construction site and hanging out all afternoon. Just one of the many things that makes working in China super interesting.

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April 21, 2009

Back in Chengdu

by Melissa Block

I left Washington in a downpour this morning; nineteen hours and one connection in Beijing later, I climbed off the plane into the humid night air of Chengdu. I'm reminded that I posted on this blog a year ago about the much-touted moist air of Chengdu, and how wonderful it's supposed to be for one's complexion. We'll see about that.

Last year, I spent just about a month here on two separate trips, but the geography of this sprawling city is still a puzzle to me. I hope to have more time to explore Chengdu on this trip, but most of our time will be spent outside the city. Even though Chengdu was only about 55 miles from the earthquake's epicenter, damage here was minimal. So tomorrow we'll be heading out to nearby towns in heavily damaged areas to check in on some reconstruction projects. After all the anticipation and preparation, it will be great to be out talking to people at last.

Tonight, as we walked to dinner at a vegetarian restaurant near our hotel, I paused to watch a group of about a dozen women dancing in slow, graceful motion on the plaza outside. A boombox was playing a languid Chinese song, and the women - middle-aged and older - swayed and gestured and pivoted as one, with long, elegant arm movements. At one point, they jiggled their heads gently from side to side: "They look like bobblehead dolls!," Andrea said. I was almost tempted to join in and try to follow along, but fish-flavor eggplant was calling.

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April 20, 2009

Day in My Life

By Andrea Hsu

Messy desk

My messy desk, apple core and all. Didn't realize how cluttered it was until I took this photo. Yikes.

 

When I tell people I'm a producer, I often get blank stares in return. It's understandable, since what we do is not any one thing, and also because what movie and music producers do is something totally different. So this morning, I thought I would map out my day for you, to give you a sense of some of what goes into the reports you'll hear in May.

5:15 am Got up. Can't tell you how thrilled I was that it was already 5 when I woke. I've been so jetlagged, I keep waking up at 2 or 3 am. So I feel really refreshed today, finally.

5:45 am Called Chris Turpin, my boss and executive producer of All Things Considered. Got cut off a few times, because I'm using Skype, which is great, but not always stable. Filled him in on everything we've been doing so far and interviews we've set up.

6:30 am Wrote and answered emails, mostly for work, but a few personal ones as well. Read a press release about a mass wedding taking place this Sunday. Read an article about the suicide yesterday of the deputy director of the Beichuan Propaganda Office. He was 33 years old. His 8 year old son died in the earthquake last year.

7:45 am Started writing this blog entry.

Continue reading "Day in My Life" »

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April 19, 2009

Temporary Shelter

By Andrea Hsu

The statistics from last year's earthquake are staggering: 90,000 dead or missing, and five million people homeless. Within a week or two, temporary camps sprung up all over the region - rows and rows of blue tents bearing the characters for "disaster relief" in white. I visited this camp in Yongan Township on May 25, just two weeks after the quake. Huge woks maybe three or four feet across had just been delivered, and residents were building brick stoves to house them. Families were sleeping eight or ten to a tent. It was warm the day I visited, and one man peered out at me and muttered, "We're steaming in here, like baozi!" (Baozi are those steamed meat buns that are a staple around here.)

2008 camp

THEN (May 25, 2008): A tent city in Yongan Township Andrea Hsu/NPR

 
Yingxiu Temporary Housing Camp.

NOW (April 18, 2009): A temporary housing camp in Yingxiu Andrea Hsu/NPR

 

As of late summer, those tent camps were phased out and everyone moved into a different sort of the temporary housing - white buildings with blue roofs in neat rows, with poured concrete paths in between, and satellite dishes on the roofs so residents can watch TV. Each camp has everything an old neighborhood would have: a clinic, a post office, a Communist party office, a few eateries, play areas for children, some set up by aid organizations.

Some of the camps, like one I visited in Dujiangyan yesterday, are huge and sprawling, housing many thousands of people. The one I saw yesterday was built on land that had been leased to developers, but had not yet been developed. After the camp is torn down, possibly by the end of this year, the land will go back to the developers, and up will go condos.

For people in more rural areas, I imagine it's a real adjustment to live side by side with neighbors, with no land in between. We've heard that in some places, the government is urging people to rebuild villages in a similar fashion -- that is, in rows, rather than scattered about the land.

Driving out to the earthquake zone, it's striking how many of these camps dot the landscape. You drive for awhile and see one on a hillside, drive a little longer and see another down in a valley. The patches of blue and white, set against the greens and browns of the land, remind me of band-aids.

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April 18, 2009

Return to Yingxiu

By Andrea Hsu

elevated highway.

The elevated highway we traveled under on our way to Yingxiu in 2008. It's now dismantled. Andrea Hsu/NPR

 

Took a trip up to Yingxiu today just to get a sense of what things are like in the quake zone. It was a much faster trip this year than last, and it's about to become even faster, when a new stretch of highway opens up in a few weeks. Last year, it was a harrowing four hour journey - one that took us past vehicles that had been crushed by falling boulders, through a couple long, dark tunnels, and under a stretch of elevated highway sitting atop pillars that had cracked and shifted. You can listen to Melissa's report here. It was only after we were safely back in Chengdu that my fellow producer Brendan, translator Xiaoyu and I all admitted to each other that at several points along the way, we each wanted to turn back.

Today, the trip took just under two hours, and as we neared, we passed road signs that pointed the way to "The epicenter town of the earthquake, Yingxiu." That was the first hint that Yingxiu has turned into a tourist destination. Still, I was surprised to see tour buses pull into the parking lot just beside Xuankou Middle School, which looks almost exactly the same as it did last year. The plan seems to be to leave the buildings as they are, as a sort of memorial. A plaque in front tells us that 55 people died at the school, including 43 students and 8 teachers. Looking at the ruins, it seems a miracle so many were able to escape -- the school had more than 1500 students. We're told tourism is driving the local economy now, and preserving the buildings is important not only to visitors, but to locals as a way of memorializing the tragic events of May 12. To be honest, it's not something I'd want to look at every day. It felt a bit strange, but mostly just sad.

Middle School 2008

THEN: Xuankou Middle School in Yingxiu on May 23, 2008 Andrea Hsu/NPR

 
Middle School 2009

NOW: The same school on April 18, 2009. Except for the absence of the flag and the characters for middle school, the buildings appear to be unchanged from a year ago. Andrea Hsu/NPR

 

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April 17, 2009

Telecommunications Nostalgia

By Andrea Hsu

Last year on this blog, I mentioned that I spent half of 1985 in Shanghai with my mom. I was 12, and had only a few friends my age in the city. So I remember quite clearly what it took to make phone calls across town to reach them. I had to walk down five flights of stairs, ask the old man at the front office to dial the desired number on the rotary phone, and then shout into the mouthpiece while trying to understand what my friend on the other end was saying, since most of what was coming through was static.

sim cards.

Our 2008 SIM cards, of no use now

 

This morning, when I went to the telecom office to find out why the SIM cards I bought for our phones last year weren't working anymore, I was told that they had been idle for too long and were now just waste paper (fei zhi). What a pity, I thought. And then I bought two new ones.

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Hoping for Interviews

By Andrea Hsu

It's been a long day of phone calls, both to start setting up interviews and to start the permissions process rolling for official requests. For example, we're seeking an interview with a family planning official to help answer a question a number of you raised last year - about whether China was relaxing its one-child policy to allow couples who lost children in the earthquake to give birth again. The short answer is, yes - parents are allowed to have a second child, but there's a lot of confusion over whether this has been the policy all along (for parents who suffered the loss of an only child), or whether exceptions were being made due to the quake. So we hope to better understand that, and we also hope to learn about the ways in which the government is helping parents have second children.

Today, we were asked to submit a formal written request with a list of questions, which we will do shortly. Our success rate last year at getting this type of interview was pretty low, despite the scores of letters and lists of questions we submitted. I'm crossing my fingers that this year will be different. I should note that Chinese officials are quick to point out that the phrase "one-child policy" is a misnomer since the policy varies so much from place to place, and in many rural areas, allows for two children if the first-born is a girl. Whatever you call it, the policy is a topic many people are interested in, so I really do hope we get an interview.

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April 16, 2009

It's Good to Be Back

By Andrea Hsu

Apologies for the lull in blogging, and thanks for coming back to Chengdu Diary. I'm finally back in Chengdu! I landed a couple hours ago, and because it's night here, I haven't been able to see much yet. I'm sure I'll be up at 3 am, so you may yet hear from me again before the sun is up.

My first order of business tomorrow will be to get our mobile phones working again - the SIM cards we used last year seem to have expired. My second order of business will be to call the provincial foreign affairs office. Sichuan authorities are requiring all foreign journalists to register in each of the earthquake affected areas they'll be visiting. They've provided contact numbers for six different offices: Sichuan (provincial level), Chengdu, Mianyang, Deyang, Guangyuan, and Aba Prefecture. Not sure how easy or difficult registration will be. What I do know is that many of the aid groups and other folks we've been talking to need for us to get the proper paperwork in place before we do any interviews, so hoping we can do that ASAP.

I'm eager to get out of the city soon too. Despite Chengdu's proximity to the quake's epicenter, it was spared heavy damage. From what I can tell, life is completely back to normal. There are still lots of cranes in the sky. The building across the street that was three stories last year is now a mid-rise. The DVD seller is just where he was last year. The outdoor restaurants are still serving up food at 10 pm. After 20+ hours of travel, I was most happy to see that.

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April 9, 2009

Mapping the Earthquake Zone

By Andrea Hsu

In preparing for this year's return visit, I've been spending a lot of time poring over maps. Last year, the only map we had when the earthquake struck was a paperback atlas of the counties of Sichuan Province, in Chinese. It was hard for us to get a sense of the scale of the disaster, and it wasn't until several weeks after the quake that I saw a map showing the actual fault.

This year, I found a fantastic web resource: ReliefWeb, administered by the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs. The website is a sort of information hub for relief workers, and contains all sorts of reports, documents, and most useful to me, maps and satellite photos. Lots of them, collected from various humanitarian agencies, news websites, NASA, and the US Geological Survey. I searched "China Earthquake May 2008" and came up with these results.

I was also really excited to discover that Google Maps exists in Chinese:


Google Map of Beichuan

Finding places on the map is a bit challenging, but I was eventually able to locate all the small towns our team visited last year (you have to zoom in pretty far).

Looking at the maps, I'm struck by two things: one, just how widespread the destruction was, and two, how densely populated the area along the fault is. Beichuan, which was destroyed by landslides, is being rebuilt in a new location, but other cities and towns in or near the fault zone will remain in their original spots.

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April 8, 2009

Earthquake Soundscapes

By Andrea Hsu

Afterquake team.

Artists Abigail Washburn and Dave Liang with relocated Wenchuan Shuimo Middle School students Photo by Amanda Kowalski

 

I've been hearing about a lot of post-earthquake projects going on in Sichuan. Yesterday I got an email about something called Afterquake -- a CD that's just been produced in Sichuan and will be released on the anniversary of the quake, May 12, as a fundraiser.

The music is a collaboration between two people who sound like they'd either be kindred souls or drive each other nuts: Abigail Washburn, who's been singing old-time Appalachian mountain music in Chinese, and Dave Liang of Shanghai Restoration Project, who's been mixing traditional Chinese instruments with hip-hop and electronica.

The two have just spent a couple weeks in rural Sichuan collecting recordings of what they call "earthquake soundscapes" -- construction sounds, playground noise, performances by children from the quake zone, and the voices of their parents. I wasn't quite sure what to expect when I clicked on one of the sample tracks they'd sent. At first it was a bit jarring to hear the voice of a mother telling her son to study hard, set to the beat of gravel being shoveled. But I listened on and there's something kind of magical and haunting about the music they've created.

Here's another track, this one called Sala.

Here's what Abigail Washburn says about the song:

This is a dance song from the Qiang minority (the minority most impacted by the earthquakes); this song is traditionally sung while dancing around a fire; the words are meaningless and simply meant to be happy. Performed by 8th grader Luo Shuang.

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April 7, 2009

A Story You Didn't Hear

By Andrea Hsu

Last year at this time, I was in Chengdu preparing for what we thought would be a week of stories about China. Stories about the glut of college students hitting the job market, about the gritty life of migrant workers, about the glorious cuisine of Sichuan, about China's love of basketball. Many of the things we'd worked on prior to the earthquake did make it to air eventually... even Melissa's kung-pao chicken lesson.

But here's one thing that did not - a short segment I produced to go with Robert's basketball story (he did get to interview Yao Ming, but did not end up spending time with a college basketball team).

A man shooting a basketball.

Mark Hiew shooting hoops at Sichuan University Andrea Hsu/NPR

 


Who is Mark Hiew you're asking? Mark Hiew is a freelance writer and English teacher in Chengdu. He was born in a rural town in Australia, went to high school and college in the US, and moved to Chengdu sometime after graduation. He was a huge help to us last spring, introducing us to many of the young Chinese people Robert talked to in this segment. Mark's still in Chengdu, so hopefully we'll get to see him on this trip.

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April 6, 2009

Earthquake in Italy

By Andrea Hsu

I woke up to news this morning of the earthquake that struck central Italy. The video pictures I'm seeing on CNN and the words and phrases I'm reading in the AP reports are eerily reminiscent of what we experienced after the earthquake in China last May. The Italy quake was many times smaller (USGS recorded a 6.3; last year's China quake was a 7.9), but to its victims, the impact will be the same. Most scary is that the Italy quake struck at 3:30 am. We had some pretty big aftershocks in the middle of the night last year, and for weeks I would wake up thinking the bed was shaking.

From my desk, I can hear our booker Chelsea pre-interviewing a seismologist for today's show. Also, NPR's Rome correspondent Sylvia Poggioli is headed to L'Aquila, the epicenter.

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Preparing to Return to China

By Andrea Hsu

Hello again, and thanks for visiting Chengdu Diary!

Some of you may have followed this blog last spring. Some of you may be coming here for the first time. Whatever the case, we hope you'll stop by often, post comments, and ask questions.

I'm still in Washington. I leave for Chengdu in a week, and Melissa Block will head out a week after that. Over the past few months, I've been getting a lot of updates from friends in Sichuan, and now I'm just really anxious to get back myself. I'll spend the first week there doing a lot of scouting and set-up work, so that we can make the most of Melissa's time once she arrives.

This past Saturday, April 4, was Qingming, or Tomb Sweeping Day, a time when families tend to the graves of loved ones. I can only imagine what the scene must have been like at gravesites across the quake zone. Tradition calls for burning paper money and incense. This year, however, the government urged people to instead bring flowers or plant trees -- for safety reasons. So many of those who died in the earthquake were in rural areas where traditions hold strong. So I imagine the air must have been thick with smoke.

Thinking about Qingming this weekend left me a little apprehensive about going back. Last year, we were surprised -- shocked, actually -- at how open people were in the midst of their grief. This year, I know we will have to regain people's trust. I just hope we can do it.

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Melissa Block

Melissa Block

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Andrea Hsu

Andrea Hsu

Producer

 
 
 

About 'Chengdu Diary'

We first launched this blog in the spring of 2008, when a team from NPR's All Things Considered headed to Chengdu, China, the capital of Sichuan Province, to prepare for a week of special programming on China. On May 12, 2008, the staff found themselves in the middle of an unexpected story when a massive earthquake struck southwestern China.

The 2008 entries on this blog offer a day-by-day chronicle of the team's experiences before and after the quake. The 2009 entries document a return visit to Chengdu and to the parts of Sichuan Province most affected by the disaster.

For more about the project, please be sure to read our Frequently Asked Questions guide and our discussion rules.

 
 

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