TheBanyanTree: Zhang Kang and my Christmas Wish

[Pat M]

I have no one to celebrate Christmas with here in China, but I have a
Christmas wish...  Earlier this week, I visited a 13-year-old boy, Zhang
Kang, who has congenital heart disease. His parents don't have the money to
pay for his heart operation (about $4,000), and he is no longer allowed to
go to school because he has collapsed many times in class. If you or your
church can help this boy, please email me and I'll give you Jackie's contact
information.  I will also make a commitment to ensure that the money is used
as it should be, for a life-saving operation for this boy.
Photos of Zhang Kang can be viewed at
http://picasaweb.google.com/Ms.Pat.Martin/China3CanYouHelp
<http://picasaweb.google.com/Ms.Pat.Martin/China3CanYouHelp+>

Monday, December 3


             I was speaking with Frank, (Buckland's Shaanxi rep) on his cell
when he said, "I'm going with an aid worker to visit a sick boy in the
country on Monday or Tuesday.   The boy has congenital heart disease and
needs an operation. Would you like to come along?"
           "Yes, I'd love to. I worked with the poor in Guatemala," I said.

"I remember," he said. "That's why I'm inviting you. I think it is something
you are interested in.  It will be an all-day trip. I'll call you."

On Sunday evening, I received a text message from Frank saying they'd pick
me up at 9:30 the next morning.   I was excited and welcomed a break from my
regular routine. I'd be exploring a new area to the north of Xian and would
get a close up look at how Chinese farmers live. Theirs is a life of
hardship and toil, and seeing the poverty might prove upsetting, but I'm not
a person who turns away from such things. Something in me demands that I
face the realities others choose to avoid or deny.

       The next morning, I got up early and was anxious to get going. I
jogged down six floors to the car waiting outside my apartment building.  Frank
introduced me to Jackie, the aid worker, a handsome young Chinese man with
good English skills.

       Frank showed me a detailed map of Shaanxi province and pointed out
the route we'd take to a small town called Yichuan where the sick boy lived.


       "What's the name of your organization?" I asked.

       "AGAPE," Jackie said.  "It's in America.   Have you heard of it?"

       "No," I said.

       "Hmmm.  It's big and well known. It is in several countries."

       "So, you work for them?"
       "Yes."
       "Is this a surprise visit to see the home and the family's living
conditions?"

       "Yes. The boy needs a heart operation and the family has no money.  The
operation costs 28,000 RMB (about $4,000) and we must make sure the family
really needs this money. If they do, we'll try to find him a sponsor."

       Initially, we drove on a newly-opened expressway that carried on to
Mongolia, and we passed through many toll booths.   There was no speed limit
on the expressway and we made good time. When we branched off to the east
half an hour later, we found ourselves on a highway with a speed limit of 60
km/hour and many photo radar cameras. Jackie was careful not to exceed the
speed limit and our progress slowed.

The land was table flat and barren. The further we traveled from Xian, the
more desolate and inhospitable it became. We passed by small towns and
villages with ancient, crumbling buildings of brick, adobe and cement.

"Some foreigners say the world fears China," Frank said. "Look around
you.  Seventy
percent of China's population lives like this. Do these people look like a
threat?"

       We passed farmers' fields, some with graves--high, cone-shaped dirt
mounds with offerings on top. In China, burial is against the law and
everyone must be cremated.   These graves were either very old or they
housed the ashes of loved ones and were used as places of remembrance.

       We were heading north toward the Gobi desert and although it was a
long way off, the territory we traversed was desert-like--treeless and bleak
with little ground cover. Before long, we reached an area of hand-terraced
hills where the farmers grew crops in the growing season. The terrain became
more rugged, and we left the terraces behind. Our car passed by highly
eroded hills and gullies of yellow loess soil.

We passed an abandoned city, once the site of a thriving coal mine. The
company had gone bankrupt and the city's inhabitants had packed up and left.
The vacant city looked like an ugly scar on the earth's colorless face.

       "The air and water is very dirty here," Frank said.

There were signs a few people remained in the area.  These people, like so
many in China, drank polluted water, grew vegetables in soil affected by
acid rain and breathed contaminated air. (Millions of tons of sulfur dioxide
belch from China's coal-fired power and coking plants every year, at least
double the level deemed safe, while acid rain affects one third of the
country.)

       Before long, the hills became even more craggy and ridged, and
countless hand-dug caves with arched entrances dotted them.

       "The people in this area live in caves," Frank explained.

     In this part of Shaanxi province, winters are harsh, water is in short
supply, and trees are almost non-existent, and the people have lived in
caves for generations. I later found out that an estimated 40 million people
in China still live in caves or subterranean dwellings known as
"yaodong."  These
cave homes are mostly found on the vast loess plateau of northern China
where the unique soft, yellow earth in the mountains is not only easy to dig
but so tightly packed that it holds together without any built support.

I tried to imagine the lifestyle of the peasants who lived in such an
unforgiving land. A recurring thought kept passing through my mind, "There's
nothing to do here."   For most of these people, daily life was a struggle
and what little money they had was used for basic survival necessities. All
the things I take for granted in Canada:  indoor plumbing, hot water,
television, movies, computers, and books would not be found in the homes I
saw out the car window.

"Chairman Mao lived in a cave in this area. The people here helped him win
some major battles. This region is very famous." Frank said.

The area, I found out later, was the site of the headquarters of Mao Zedong
and the Chinese Communist Party just prior to their conquest of China in
1948.

We drove for over three hours before we finally stopped to visit the W.C.
and have a quick bite to eat. It took another two hours to reach the boy's
village.  Houses in the country don't have street addresses. When we stopped
for gas, Jackie called the family on his cell.  We waited at the service
station until the sick boy's mother arrived.   She joined me in the back
seat and guided us to her home, a short drive down a narrow dirt lane.

The boy's father waited for us outside a brick-walled compound. Inside, we
saw a long, single-story adobe and brick building with several doors covered
by colorful blankets.  He guided us to one and held the blanket aside for us
to enter. The room was small, about ten feet by twenty-four feet with a
mortared-brick floor.

We sat on a hand built wooden sofa covered with a blanket. A double bed, a
single bed, a wardrobe, a side table and a desk and chair occupied the rest
of the room. Colorful posters covered the walls. A plastic basin of water
for washing hands sat on a stand near the door. There was no electricity or
running water.

It was below freezing outside and the coal burner (12" diameter), the only
source of warmth in the room, threw little heat. I was wearing several
layers of clothing and a jacket, and I was cold. The sick boy, Zhang Kang,
wore only a sweater.   He sat at a desk near the door working on math. He
was very engrossed in his work and paid no attention to us, which surprised
me. I'd expected him and his parents to react strongly to seeing a
'foreigner'.  These country folk had better manners than the people in
Lintong; they didn't stare at me.

Jackie took out his laptop. Frank and I sat quietly while he interviewed the
parents and noted their answers. The boy's father showed him some financial
documents and the boy's mother dug out a printout of the boy's ECG. I
noticed she'd made three glasses of green tea. How, I wondered, can I
politely refuse her when she offers me one? (I didn't trust the water.)
Before I'd found a solution, she passed me a glass. I accepted it and said
to Frank, "I took it but I don't want to drink it."   Frank took the glass
from me and handed it back to the woman, with a polite, "Thanks, but no
thanks," in Chinese.  Like me, he wasn't willing to risk it either.

"They used to live in a cave," Frank said quietly (translating what he was
hearing), "but it began to collapse so they moved to this place.   They pay
60 RMB a month (about $9) for it.

"Look at that tiny stove," I said; I'd never seen one so small.

"She cooks on it, too," Frank said.

Not being familiar with coal heat, I hadn't known until Amy recently told me
that breathing the fumes from burning coal is very dangerous. When I
mentioned this to Frank, he told me that many people die every year in Xian
because of blocked stove pipes or because the wind blows the smoke back into
the house.

Half an hour later, Jackie took some photos of Zhang Kang and his mother and
father. We said goodbye and hurried back to the car to escape the cold.  We
were just preparing to leave when Zhang Kang's father came running out with
a box of apples. The man was dirt poor; he could not afford to give anything
to anyone, but he wanted to show his gratitude to Jackie for the visit and
for trying to find a sponsor for his son's heart operation.  He tried to
convince Jackie to take the box, but Jackie would not accept it. When Jackie
continued to adamantly refuse, Zhang Kang's father looked at me in the
backseat and pointed to the box of apples. I shook my head.

Suddenly, almost desperately, he tried to shove the box through Jackie's
open window. Jackie quickly rolled up the window and firmly said, "Boo yow
(I don't want them)."

It hurt me to watch this exchange.

Disappointment, frustration and despair—a mix of emotions washed over the
man's face as he stepped back to allow us to drive away. His gesture touched
me deeply. I left pondering life's injustices and wondering if there was
anything I could do to help.



***

In Summary:



Zhang Kang lives in Yichuan, a village located in the northern part of
Shaanxi province.   There is little water in the area and crops do not grow
well. The family had been living in a cave but had recently moved into the
village. Their one room costs them rent of 60 RMB (or $9.00) per month. The
boy's father does some physical work away from home and also grows crops in
the growing season.   The family's gross yearly income is less than 9,000
RMB (just over $1,000).  Zhang Kang's mother has diabetes and was recently
in the hospital for 10 days.  She also has anemia from piles. The boy's
father has coronary heart disease and finds it difficult when he works. The
family is about 20,000 RMB in debt from relatives for the father's coronary
heart disease treatment.   Zhang Kang's parents can not raise the money for
his surgery and the only way they could pay for it is by borrowing money. The
boy's congenital heart disease was discovered when he was very young so he
has not been able to run and play with the other children. His school
recently forced him to stop attending it because he lost consciousness many
times while in class.



**

…Pat Martin   "I can't change the world, but I can make a difference."

China photos can be viewed at
http://picasaweb.google.com/Ms.Pat.Martin/China
http://picasaweb.google.com/Ms.Pat.Martin/China2
http://picasaweb.google.com/Ms.Pat.Martin/China3CanYouHelp