Zhongnanhai

I am hoping, very soon, to be free of this weight which is the GFW. Thanks to the help of Dan over at China Law Blog, I may have found a solution to my hosting woes, which should make this site much more accessible in China. If anybody else wants to put their blog on the right side of the GFW, Dan has some ideas and can recommend some good blog hosts. (I’d link to his email and blog, but alas, that vital function of blogging is unavailable to me at the moment. My sincere apologies.)

There were a couple of things I wanted to discuss this week, but with my inability to link to articles and other poignant facts, I have declined until the new site is up and running. That being said, I thought I’d post my latest missive in the Times Colonist in Canada. As I’m not an American, I can’t comment on what mobile phone rates are like in the United States. But I think the article will leave no doubt about how I feel regarding Canada’s shoddy plans. I received quite a few comments on this article on Facebook (everybody is on there, right?) so I clearly touched a nerve with Canadians.

Let me know what you think.

Chinese progress belies stereotypes; Ease of cellphone access makes Canada look like the Third World
Times Colonist (Victoria)
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Page: C2
Section: Comment
Byline: Cam MacMurchy
Column: Cam MacMurchy
Dateline: BEIJING, China
Source: Special to Times Colonist

BEIJING, China - A recent survey released here showed that most foreigners — before they visit China — hold deep stereotypes about what life is like here, based on Chinese movies that make it to North America.

Many of those surveyed said that when they think about China, they think about kung fu, the ability to fly through the air and above all poor, backward farmers in straw hats tilling the land.

The stereotype is badly outdated, as China’s cities are now dotted with Starbucks, wi-fi cafes and glistening skyscrapers. BMWs wind through high-end entertainment districts, and businessmen in Armani suits chat loudly into their micro-sized mobile phones.

In fact, nearly 500 million Chinese use cellphones, making it the largest mobile phone market in the world.

Many people here have never used a home phone, because mobile phone rates are cheap and much more convenient.

And with the largest mobile phone market in the world continuing to grow exponentially, Research in Motion couldn’t resist trying to crack the market with its ubiquitous Blackberry.

But there’s a big difference between using a Blackberry in China and in Canada — price.

And our prohibitive pricing schemes and cumbersome customer services are holding Canada back from other technologically advanced countries like — dare I say it — China.

Let’s say you arrive in Beijing for a six-month study or work term and you need a mobile phone. First, you’d walk into a mobile phone store, which are found on almost every block, and select the phone that’s right for you.

This could range from a low-end, three-year-old Motorola right up to the newest Blackberry, Palm or Windows Mobile smartphone. Nearly all of the phones are “unlocked,” meaning you can use them with whatever cellphone carrier you choose, and change whenever you like.

Then you’d pop into a 7-Eleven or another convenience store (or even a road-side vendor) and buy a SIM card (your phone number).

This will cost, on average, about $4.50 and include more than an hour of talk time. Pop the SIM card into your new phone and you instantly have a fully functional cellphone. No activation required, no paperwork, no credit check, no signature, nothing.

When you run out of airtime, you can buy $15 recharge cards at nearly every street-level newspaper vendor or convenience store across the country. Simple.

Of course, there are other options for heavy users, such as monthly plans. I once used a monthly plan in Shanghai that included plenty of talk-time and two gigabytes of data transfer for $75 a month. No credit check required. You prepay each month, and if you don’t, you’re cut off. Your monthly bill arrives by e-mail. Again, it’s surprisingly simple, efficient and even environmentally friendly. The rate plans are cheap; the payment process is easy. So why can’t this be done in Canada?

“There’s no doubt that wireless data pricing is higher in Canada,” Andrew McLaughlin, the director of global public policy for Google, said recently in the Financial Post. Google now offers a number of mobile services such as Google Maps, mobile Gmail, and mobile searching — excellent services that many Canadians opt not to use because of Canada’s high data surcharges. RIM is leading the way in asking the Canadian government to pressure the big three mobile-phone carriers, Telus, Bell, and Rogers, to lower their prices and give entry-level consumers access to the market.

Rogers currently offers customers a 200-megabyte monthly plan for $100. That steep fee doesn’t even include talking minutes, and assuming you want to use your phone to make phone calls, you must pay extra for that. The data plan alone amounts to 50 cents per megabyte. The plan in Shanghai I mentioned earlier amounted to less than four cents per megabyte. And, for good measure, China Mobile threw in 2,000 minutes of talk time.

Why the discrepancy? As the Financial Post story continued, it’s not only China and other Asian countries with cheaper cellphone rates; Europe also offers complete data and voice plans for a fraction of what’s being charged in Canada. “They’ve got these entry-level service plans that they’re putting out there that you’re not seeing here in Canada,” said Don Morrison, RIM’s chief operating officer.

Last Christmas I arrived in Vancouver from Hong Kong and needed a pay-as-you-go phone number for the few weeks I’d be home.

I had to sign up at a Rogers counter, provide all kinds of personal details, fill out forms, sign some additional paperwork and then wait while the staff “activated” my phone. As the activation system was down, I had to wait more than 25 minutes.

All of this cost me $50 — before I had even purchased any talk or data time. When I finally bought a card, it took several steps through an automated service before my phone was usable. This entire process in China would take two minutes at a 7-11, and cost a fraction of what it does in Canada.

Cellphone service is only one area where China has made things much more consumer-friendly. Far from being a country filled with straw-hat-wearing farmers, China has, perhaps, even zoomed past Canada in the technology field.

Sadly, it is we who are backward.

China’s rural areas are falling behind; The economic boom in the cities isn’t being heard in the countryside
Times Colonist (Victoria)
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Page: D2
Section: Comment
Byline: Cam MacMurchy
Column: Cam MacMurchy
Source: Special to Times Colonist

My cab driver pulled up to Beijing West Railway Station around 4 p.m. I put my luggage through security and began looking around for a waiting lounge prior to my 4:30 departure to a city I had never even heard of. My ticket said Beijing to Gucheng, which is a small town in Hubei province in central China. It’s also known as the middle of nowhere.

Gucheng is definitely remote, but my final destination would take me one step further. To get there, I would have to take a 40-minute van ride from Gucheng’s train station to the even more remote village of Wushan.

We arrived in Gucheng the following day. I hauled my luggage down a couple of stairs and waited as the train pulled away. I crossed the rickety tracks and stepped over broken concrete before I walked through a deformed gate and out onto the street. The Gucheng train station doesn’t even have an arrivals area. It was as though the train stopped by the street and passengers quickly piled into vans or walked away.

Wushan, unfortunately, is much too small for a hotel. The village has a little over 1,000 residents, most of whom survive on about $275 a year. Our sleeping quarters, shared with a small group of journalists from Beijing, would be in a government guesthouse.

Foreign media attention often focuses on the thriving nightlife and business opportunities in Shanghai, the glittering skyscrapers in Guangzhou or the political power being amassed in Beijing.

The transformation of China’s east-coast cities is vast, and undoubtedly residents are enjoying drastic improvements in their living standards.

But despite these feel-good stories, the countryside is being left behind — way behind.

We met with Communist party cadres in Wushan, who explained that though medical insurance for villagers is only $1.50 per year, even paying that fee could sometimes prove difficult for the poverty-ridden villagers. The insurance covers about 60 per cent of their medical expenses, meaning the rest of the money for treatment has to be paid by the patient.

It was explained to me that a simple operation could still consume a lifetime’s savings. The irony of villagers being forced to pay exorbitant medical fees in a supposedly communist country didn’t go unnoticed.

I walked through the beautiful streets of Wushan, flanked on all sides by lush greenery with a small stream going through the village centre. I stepped into a couple of rural homes, some which didn’t even have four walls.

As the sun was setting I stuck my head into what seemed like a vacant house; inside a man was sitting on his couch in the dark. He didn’t have any electricity and lived in a concrete room with a large door open to the elements. About 750 million people in China — roughly 70 per cent of its population — live in conditions like this, or close to them.

Fortunately, we weren’t in Wushan just to observe peasant life. We were actually there for a good news story, one which we might hear a lot more about in the future.

The Beijing Green Cross (a Chinese non-governmental organization not affiliated with the international one), led by Sun Jun, went into Wushan about three years ago to turn the formerly dirty village into an environmentally friendly tourist spot. At the time, litter was strewn in the streams and garbage was everywhere.

"We have to learn to take care of our environment," said Sun. "We can not be a developed country if we don’t take care of our surroundings." And somehow he has been able to convince the villagers to buy into it.

Wushan now has solar-powered street lights, new environmentally friendly irrigation systems and compost piles.

Villagers have been planting trees and divide their garbage into categories ready for recycling. A town square has been built, where we were treated to dance and musical performances by some of the children.

It has also taken one of its core industries — 100-per-cent organic green tea — and is using it to build the town’s tea culture.

There is now a tea temple, and the tea ceremonies held there are becoming famous in the area. The result of all this, combined with the region’s stunning landscape, has been more visitors and higher incomes for residents, not to mention a new-found pride in their village.

Our group stayed in a renovated government house that night. Although the village is now environmentally friendly, it remains very poor. We were fed the same food four meals in a row— beans, tomato and egg soup, fatty pork, roast pumpkin, chicken soup and a few other dishes.

The sleeping arrangements were comfortable, although I spent most of my night swatting at flies and mosquitoes.

One of the biggest challenges facing China — if not the biggest — is improving the incomes and living conditions for rural residents. President Hu Jintao has been clear that narrowing the widening income gap between rural and urban workers is his priority. If he fails to do so, it could lead to further unrest and threaten the party’s hold on power.

A quick trip to rural China shows that there is a long way to go. But through efforts like those of Sun Jun, there is reason for optimism.

Cam MacMurchy is a Victoria journalist working in China.

cam.macmurchy@gmail.com

Idnumber: 200706240027
Edition: Final
Story Type: Column
Length: 891 words

Canada underestimates Chinese power
Times Colonist
Published: Sunday May 27 

You wouldn’t know it by our relatively small population, but Canadians have managed to really spread out worldwide. Here in China, it seems like every other foreigner I meet is from Toronto or Vancouver or Edmonton.

And on a recent trip to Bangkok, I saw lines of foreigners waiting to check in at a budget hotel. A majority were faithfully carrying navy blue Canadian passports as identification.

The good news is being a Canadian overseas is often much easier than being an American, or even a German or Briton for that matter, because we are generally viewed favourably.

Toronto and Vancouver have become magnets for overseas Chinese and many who fled the country during Mao’s years often tried to reach our shores. We have traditionally had a good reputation as being fair and honest. But times are changing.

"Only the corrupt Chinese go to Canada," an elderly man in spectacles told me over a steaming dim sum breakfast at a park in the southern city of Guangzhou. "I don’t like the Canadian government."

He wasn’t referring to our government’s complaints about the treatment of Huseyin Celil, the Canadian who is being held by the Chinese authorities for "terrorist activities and plotting to split the country," according to state-run media.

He also wasn’t referring to the Conservative government’s decision to grant honorary Canadian citizenship to the Dalai Lama, who is still seen here as a "splittist" set on breaking up the country. He wasn’t talking about the frequent trips Canadian MPs are making to Taiwan, either.

No, he was talking about Lai Changxing, one of China’s most notorious criminals, accused of embezzling billions of dollars and then fleeing to Vancouver, where he remains today.

Despite repeated requests to have him turned over to Chinese authorities, our government has let the legal process take its course. He’s been in Canada for years and has just been given another chance to fight deportation.

It’s not a good time to be a Canadian in China, because these issues are starting to trickle down into mainstream opinion, obviously guided by the monolithic state-run media machine.

But whereas Xinhua wire stories used to regularly blast former Japanese Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi for paying respects to war criminals at the controversial Yasukuni Shrine, now the target is Canada, and most recently Foreign Affairs Minister Peter MacKay, who was being warned not to "damage Sino-Canadian ties."

But judging from the two countries’ laundry list of grievances, perhaps the ties are already damaged. Canada has been one of the few countries insisting China improve its human rights record, becoming a thorn in the side of the Communist emperors in Beijing.

A recent Angus Reid poll showed 76 per cent of Canadians want our long-term policy with China based on advancing human rights and minority rights, not just economics. But the chances of that happening are slim, because there’s simply too much money to be made.

China is not an "emerging" or "growing" superpower. Many feel it’s become one already, and has enough economic clout to tell other countries what to do. And as much as Canadians like to think we have a say, we don’t.

Other than natural resources, which are also found in other countries with friendly ties to China, we don’t have a lot to bargain with. We have a relatively small population, no substantial military strength and aren’t one of the five permanent members of the United Nations Security Council.

We can either look the other way and cash in on China’s dizzying economic growth, or we can cease trading with one of the world’s largest and most dynamic economies.

CEOs, governments and companies have overwhelmingly chosen the former. They are lining up to obey whatever rule China puts in place for access to its 1.3-billion person market.

From Google and MSN, which willingly block Internet searches not palatable to the Communist regime, to the World Health Organization, which most recently denied Taiwan and its 23 million people membership thanks to pressure from Beijing, China is becoming used to getting its way.

Canadian consumers, if they are honest, would likely also prefer being able to buy cheap Chinese-made goods at Wal-Mart rather than paying more as part of an effort to pressure some far-off government to improve the human rights of people they’ve never met in a land they’ll never see.

It all boils down to money, for governments, companies and individuals.

The one bright spot for social activists will be the Olympic Games next year. China views the Olympics as a major coming-out party and the Asian ideal of "face" means China is very sensitive about ensuring the event goes off without a hitch.

Linking Darfur to the Olympics worked for 107 U.S. congressmen, who wrote a letter urging China to take action or face an Olympic boycott. China responded by sending 275 military personnel to the region.

But it can go the other way, too, as five protesters learned when they unfurled a banner calling for a Free Tibet on Mount Everest. Instead of giving Tibetans more autonomy, China cracked down on Tibetan travel permits issued to foreigners.

Dealing with China is a complex game. But while our government’s moral stance is admirable and commendable, it is ultimately doomed to fail.

After much reflection on this question, I’ve come to the conclusion that….. I don’t know.  My good friend Tim Stoney, a former reporter with the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, believes that Asian culture and democracy just don’t mix.  He claims that Asians, by their very nature, are adverse to change, and don’t like the see-saw back-and-forth scheming that makes democracies so vibrant.  I’m paraphrasing, but he says Asians (and this is a vast, vast generalization, something I normally try and refrain from doing) prefer to know who the government will be, and what the policies will be, 10 or 15 years from now.  That allows proper planning.

Perhaps my friend is on to something, or perhaps it’s hogwash, as the democracies in Taiwan (Province!) and South Korea can attest.  Whatever, below is a column I wrote on this subject after a recent trip to Bangkok.  (Yes, honest, I was there to write hard journalism stories!!!).

Desire for order trumps democracy; Thais’ contentment with military coup points to Asia’s different values
Published: Sunday May 13
Times Colonist 

The Chinese propaganda machine is very effective. Ask anyone in China about democracy and they will reel off reasons why now is not the right time.

"China isn’t developed enough yet." "Chinese people aren’t educated enough." "China needs stability first." The list goes on.

Decent reasons really, but not for most of us in the West. We’re accustomed to believing that democracy is the only way. Challenging that belief is tough, but it’s necessary.

And Thailand offers a good example of a country where democracy has gone horribly wrong.

Western governments and media outlets were quick to denounce the overthrow of a democratically elected prime minister in a bloodless military coup last year. Thaksin Shinawatra was fresh off an election victory, his second landslide majority.

But while images of tanks in the streets of Bangkok were enough to make CNN headlines, the reasons behind the coup — and the feelings of the Thais — were often left unreported.

"I hope he never returns," a Thai taxi driver told me en route to Bangkok’s sparkling new Suvarnabhumi Airport last week. "If he does, somebody will kill him."

Thaksin, who has been ordered to stay away from Thailand by the military, is not well-liked in the country’s urban areas. His election victories and popularity were owed to the rural areas which didn’t see firsthand the level of corruption in his government.

"Look at that," the taxi driver said, waving a finger towards a giant, concrete rapid-transit line along the highway. "What a waste." The multi-billion-dollar line was intended to connect downtown Bangkok with its new airport. But now it sits there, unfinished.

You don’t have to go far to see other evidence of waste and mismanagement. Thaksin rushed the new $4.5-billion Suvarnabhumi Airport to completion. After only months in operation, complaints about construction quality, crumbling runways, overcrowding and an embarrassing lack of bathrooms have forced the military junta to re-open the old Don Muang Airport.

Thais say his real sins go much deeper. Thaksin is accused of perverting democracy to centralize power and limit dissent, creating an authoritarian regime with him at its centre.

And questions are mounting about his sale of communications giant Shin Corp., controlled by his family, to a Singapore government agency. The deal earned his family $2.1 billion — tax-free.

All that helps explain why, when the military decided something had to be done, the country’s revered King Bhumibol Adulyadej gave his blessing.

Most Thais told me that life carries on as it did before. They are happy to know the circus atmosphere surrounding Thaksin is gone and the government is now "much less prominent," according to the driver.

While the military regime has promised the return of democracy and a new constitution, they have cracked down on the media in the meantime. The government blocked the YouTube website for showing a video of King Bhumibol next to images of feet. The king is regarded as semi-divine and generally loved, while feet are considered offensive. It has also blocked websites and broadcast reports about the deposed prime minister.

But despite the erosion of a free press, the Thais seem to be taking everything in stride — just as the Chinese do.

One of my friends from Australia once told me that democracy doesn’t fit easily with Asian culture. I argued about the importance of freedom of speech, human rights and all the other ideals we are raised with in the West.

But the longer I’ve remained in Asia, the more I’m gaining perspective on his point of view. Here, the value of stability trumps democracy.

Asian people generally respect authority and their elders. The Western ideas of activism, questioning authority and individuality are as foreign to Asian cultures as authoritarian regimes have become to Europeans and their descendants. Asia has very few truly democratic countries and even those that can hardly be called democracies by Western standards.

Japan’s Liberal Democratic Party has been solidly in power for half a century, except for a short-lived opposition coalition government in 1993. Singapore is an apparent democracy, but it has been run by Lee Kuan Yew, his son, and their People’s Action Party since it gained independence in 1959. Malaysia has been run by a single multi-party coalition since the 1950s and Indonesia is unstable at best.

Taiwan and South Korea could turn out to be success stories, but both are too young to be judged. And Taiwan’s chaotic, fight-filled legislature is often cited as proof that China doesn’t need that "immature" form of government.

India might be a bright light, but its cumbersome democratic system is often blamed for its failure to match China’s rapid economic growth.

"We have to sacrifice for the good of the whole," a close Chinese friend once told me. She was referring to the bloody crackdown on Tiananmen Square protesters back in 1989 and explaining how many Chinese believe the students who died that June were paying the price for their country’s success today.

Many Thais see their military coup in the same light, except this time the sacrifice was democracy.

There are splinter groups calling for the right to vote in Thailand and China.

But there is no massive underground network advocating democracy, no widespread support and no large-scale threats to the two governments.

Even without democracy, everything seems to be working just fine.

Three weeks ago the That’s Beijing weekly newsletter linked to an article about love being found in Poacher’s.  I was stunned to see it there, because it was an article I had written a few days earlier for the Victoria Times Colonist. It said:

This article about true love being found in Poachers appealed to the romantic in us.

I’ve no idea how they found the column, and the link takes readers to a pay site where you can’t even read it.  So, if anyone is actually interested in reading it, I have posted it below in its entirety.  Enjoy!

Finding love in a backstreet Beijing bar
Published:  Sunday April 29, 2007

     One of the places I’ll remember in Beijing most is a bar called Poacher’s.  When I moved to China I was a fearless 25 year old, and my other Canadian friends and I spent more than a few nights in this timeless Beijing establishment.

      Poacher’s, way back in 2004 (which is an eternity in China) used to be down a back alley off the main bar street.  If you didn’t know it was there, you could’ve never found it.  First a left, then a right at the lamb-skewer stand, and then walk a few more meters past old Chinese buildings and some fake DVD shops.  You’d know it, because the thumping of American Top 40 songs could be heard throughout the back lanes.

      Like many bars in Asia, a mix of young North Americans, Europeans, and Australians mingle with the dozens of pretty Asian girls.  When drinking, dancing, and loud music get thrown in, it can be more than a lively night on the town.

      What made Poacher’s stand out more than other bars was its atmosphere – a run down warehouse hidden among the historic hutongs, or traditional courtyard houses, in Beijing. I always found it fascinating to listen to the latest tunes pulled straight from American radio in a bar in Beijing, where a majority of the people inside couldn’t even understand the lyrics.

      One of my favorite perches was from a little balcony to the left of the stage, where sometimes we’d dance and survey the scene.  Down below was an older fellow, perhaps in his 60s, pouring gin and tonics and $1.75 pints of Tsingdao.  To this day, I’ve always wanted to talk to him. As an older fellow, he lived through the Cultural Revolution, one of the darkest moments in Chinese history, as well as the Great Leap Forward and other trying times.  He still works hard, earning a living selling drinks to young women in scantily clad outfits surrounded by drunken foreigners, something unthinkable in Mao’s day.

       Then there were the regulars.  One of the young women was named Liane (pronounced “Lianna”) who was clearly available to whoever wanted to be with her.  I talked with her a few times, and while our conversations never ventured into Chinese economics or military strategy, she was still quite lovely.  She was only 22 years old at the time and very pretty, and fits into a stereotype that is slowly becoming obsolete as China becomes more prosperous: the girl who is just looking for a passport.

      Of course, I’ll never forget New Years Eve 2004, when the cover charge was an astounding $15. In Beijing, where lineups and cover charges are as foreign as people practicing Falun Gong, this left us quite indignant.  But we came around when we were told that cover included an entire bottle of wine – one each – for every person in our party.  We had 12 people that night, and with 12 bottles of wine at our table, that $15 proved to be the cheapest New Years I’d ever had.

      But there is one night in particular that I will always remember.  I brought a couple of friends to meet up with some colleagues from China Central Television late one Saturday.  I was inside dancing while my good friend Trevor Metz, who used to work in media in Kamloops and Price George, was chatting with a young woman he had just met outside.  I know Trevor had partaken in a few too many Tsingdaos that night, and when he came inside he slipped on the floor and fell directly on his face, as though a bookshelf had just tipped over with a big thud upon hitting the ground.  As crowds stood laughing at him, he got up and continued inside the bar, probably too drunk to realize he had just served as everyone’s comic relief.

      His biggest fear at that moment, he told me later, was that the girl, Jingjing, had seen what happened.  Luckily for him, she hadn’t.

      Trevor and I visited that bar on many Friday and Saturday nights, along with several other friends from Canada.  It was a chance to share stories, funny moments, laughs, and relish in our experiences. In the back of our minds, we knew that when our contracts were up, we would return to our regular responsibilities in Vancouver, Victoria, Prince George, or wherever else we were from.  China was supposed to be a one-year adventure, not a whole new beginning. But life rarely goes as planned.

      Nobody knows this better than Trevor Metz.  Today, Trevor will celebrate his wedding to Jingjing in her hometown, a small city in central China. “We have a very happy life together and I never dreamed I would end up with someone so wonderful, kind, caring, understanding, beautiful, and fun as her. She is perfect in my eyes,” he said.

      It doesn’t matter where you find love, as long as you find it somewhere.  And for Trevor, he found it far away in China. 

      In a fun little bar called Poacher’s.