Source - http://www.downtheroad.org/Asia/Letters/9China_censorship.htm
China is not a free country. All media has to be approved by the government and all internet and email traffic is scanned for unfavorable content. They jammed short wave radio frequencies, blocked web sites, listened to phone calls, and stopped many of our emails from getting out. I have never visited a country where I have enjoyed the people so much yet had utter distain for the government. Chinese people only know what they are told through their state run media and propaganda pushing school systems. They are victims of human rights abuses such as not being allowed to protest or speak out against the government. When jailed for these offenses it is common that they are inflicted with torture and forced into labor like a slave of days gone by.
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Far from home
The best (and worst) thing about traveling by bicycle is that it takes the rider to places never expected. Many readers have asked, “What is the farthest away from home you have ever felt?” I used to think of this question in terms of geography but my experiences in communist China have given me a different perspective. Now I answer this question in terms of freedom. The furthest I have ever been from home is sitting in a Chinese military detention area being guarded by armed soldiers. I know that if I ever find myself further from home I will never come back. The story below happen in April 2005 when we first entered China and spoke very little Chinese. I waited until now to send this story out because I did not want our web site blocked while we were in China.
We were riding along on our bikes and saw what we thought were a group of farmers in the field. Cindie riding behind me yelled out, “Tim Tim take their picture”. I pulled over to the side of the road and took two photos of the large group of farmers. It turned out that the farmers were actually Chinese prisoners working at forced labor. The next thing we knew we had guards chasing us with pistols. We stopped and they immediately took our camera and demanded both of our passports. Little did we know that we were also standing in front of a secret Chinese military academy. This is probably a place where young soldiers learn the art of brainwashing and turning political protesters into slaves who make things like clock radios and blenders for export. We could not read the Chinese sign informing all to stay away and not to take photos. The Chinese government does not acknowledge that these secret prisons exist. It is becoming known in the free world that they have many hidden prisons where political prisoners are tortured and forced to work in factories to build consumer goods for the west. It is a serious crime in China to take photos of these prisoners or report in the news that such places exist. We were now guilty of this crime.
As we were standing on the side of the road, offering to delete the photos, we saw a platoon of soldiers running in formation with their rifles. I told Cindie that army guys run and exercise all the time and not to be alarmed. My heart sank as I watched them run with urgency straight to us. They immediately grabbed our bikes and marched us off to a detention room in the military academy. I knew this was serious. We waited there for three hours, seemed like eternity to me. They asked for our home phone number and I gave them my parent’s number. My parents had been called many times by teachers and school principals when I was a kid but the Chinese military would be a whole new level of getting into trouble. I told Cindie that even Generals are no match for my mother. Later, we learned that they never called. During our detention the guards were pleasant but we were not allowed to leave. Our bikes were surrounded by a detail of armed soldiers standing at attention. In Asia, whenever the need arises Cindie and I speak Spanish to each other. We never know who can speak English. In Spanish I tried to reassure Cindie and tell her we would be back on the bikes soon. I asked her where was the last place she left off in her online journal. She said that she was caught up to yesterday when we updated our web site. She knew that I was concerned about leaving a trail. If we ever disappear Cindie’s journal would be the best tool to start a search. When we were asked about our unrecognizable English (Spanish) I told them that we have a thick Arizona accent.
Then a flurry of activity started. All kinds of people showed up including high ranking officers from the local police, army, national police (equivalent to the USA’s FBI) and, the scariest of all, quiet men in dark suits and sunglasses. These men were the Chinese secret police much like America’s CIA. I knew they were high up because the low ranking soldier at the guard shack was very nervous and constantly saluting. All the enlisted men were so scared it made me uneasy. At this point I realized that they thought we were two American spies in bicycle tights and helmets. They separated us and began to ask questions. In the mean time they show up with a professional video camera and began taping everything. Cindie had several guys in police and army uniforms in her room. I had the national police and the guys wearing dark suits in my room.
Cindie’s interrogation lasted two hours and they questioned me for an hour more. I was asked the same questions repeatedly by men who never removed their sunglasses even though it was raining and we were indoors. They had brought translators but their English was so poor I still did not know exactly what they were saying. They asked why we were in this country and on this particular road. Their favorite question was, “Did I take a photo of military base?” My answer was no, I only took a photo of what I thought were farmers and not the base. They did not believe me. They were convinced that we were either spies or human rights activists both of which regularly get put to death in China. When they told me that we had broken the law, I wondered what would happen next.
Then they marched us to our bikes and asked what was inside. I was afraid that they would find our computer. There was nothing incriminating on it, but I knew it would take them forever to look through it. The camera and passports were time consuming enough for them. The head military officer pointed at a bag and told Cindie to open it. Of the twelve bags we have on our bikes it happen to be the one with the computer in it. Cindie instead recommended a closer bag with our tent hoping to stall for time. They pulled it out and marveled at its aluminum poles and the tag that had “Made in China” on it. Once they were happy that our tent was not a threat to national security (even though it is illegal for foreigners to camp in China) they pointed at another bag. Again, they unknowingly pointed at the one with our computer. Cindie instead offered the waterproof bag with our two sleeping bags in it. They were impressed with the lightness and quality of construction but the party ended when they read “Made in Taiwan” on the tag. Through the translator, the 60 year old military official with four large silver stars on his shoulder asked why the tag said “Taiwan” instead of “China”. The Chinese believe that Taiwan is just another province of China even though the rest of the world accepts that it is an independent country with it’s own democratically elected leaders, currency, and standing army. I dodged this potentially dangerous international incident by telling them that the tag simply spelled China wrong or made a mistake. The search moved on.
I knew what Cindie was up to. She had them search the tent and sleeping bags first to wear them out. We have been together 24/7 for years now and we know what each other is thinking. We have wiggled out of searches in the past with the same trick. When the officer asked for another bag she offered her bag that had dirty clothes in it. While we were still being video taped, she pulled out our medicine kit, pans, a roll of US cash that she hides, and some paperwork. They were not interested in money or medicine. They were very interested in the photocopy of my passport. They were looking for some kind of documents to prove we were spies. I held up the paper next to my face but they did not think it was me. The paper was taken away to be analyzed. Cindie continued to pull things out of her bag until her underwear was laying on the ground in front of the crowd of officers who were turning red (along with Cindie) with embarrassment. An order was quickly barked out, the video camera was turned off, and the search was ended. This is not the first time we have used the dirty laundry trick. Had they found our laptop they would have surely imprisoned us while they took the time to look through it.
When the search ended they escorted us back to the holding area and we had to wait for hours again. We finally were shown papers hand written in Chinese and told these were our confessions. The translator slowly read them to us. It essentially said that we had illegally taken pictures of prisoners. We signed them and were told we were going to be released. I asked for our camera and passports back. They did not want to return the camera so I told them that I would like to contact the US embassy in Beijing. I pointed at the Chinese character in our phrase book meaning “embassy” so there was no mistake in translation. I knew that in any large bureaucracy that poop rolls down hill and no one in that room wanted a foreign embassy involved. They reluctantly returned the camera. The IT professor told the commander that the illegal pictures had been erased. I turned the camera on and saw “format error” and assumed the pictures were gone. I did not care and just wanted my freedom.
Later when I put the memory stick into our computer I found that the IT specialist did not completely get rid of the illegal pictures of the forced labor camp.
You can see these pictures by clicking below.
When we were finally released it was dark and raining hard. We rode two kilometers to a hotel room and went to bed. The next day we were still in a state of shock. When we left the hotel I thought someone was following us. At first it was just a feeling but I quickly had proof. As cars slowly drove past us we recognized the occupants as the people asking questions the day before during our interrogation. They predictably drove black four door sedans with tinted windows and were always frantically talking into a cell phone. They tried to act like they did not see us which made them even more obvious. Everyone else (mostly poor rice farmers) stared at us because we were probably the first foreigners they had ever seen. We stopped to eat in a small truck stop restaurant and two trucks pulled in and blocked the view of our bikes from the road. I think our friends lost us for a while. After lunch another car passed us and stopped. A man with a cell phone watched us go by and called in our location. I recognized him from the day before as the man taking notes in my room during questioning. It gave me the creeps but Cindie was completely unnerved. I tried to calm her down by saying “Cindie, do not worry about them. If they really wanted us they would just arrest us again and take us.” Sometimes I can say the worst things to her thinking I am helping.
We rode on and happened to pass another military base. We knew what they looked like by now. In front of the military base they had a large truck used to transport troops waiting for us. I knew it was full of soldiers because I could see the outline of gun barrels pressing against the canvas covering. We waved, what else could we do. We could see the officer in the passenger seat call in our location. We stayed in a hotel a few kilometers later that uncharacteristically did not ask for our passports. Our followers did not see us go in the hotel. They lost us again but this time it was near another army base. I wondered if they had a long night as they combed the area looking for us. The next day we had a car pass us and call in our location. Later in the day, I had a flat tire so we pulled off the road to fix it. As I was fixing the flat tire, a black sedan drove by with a tinted window rolled down. I saw a 35 mm lens repeatedly taking pictures of us. Just like in the movies. I thought “Don’t they have hours of video of us including Cindie’s purple underwear?” After three days of being followed like this, we rode into Yang Shou where there are lots of foreigners traveling and working as English teachers. To the police we blended in because to them we all look alike. We were not followed by secret black cars again but we were always on the lookout.
I believe the above incident is the reason we had trouble obtaining a legal travel visa extension and had to seek out other means. We also had several smaller run ins with the authorities in China. We were frequently kicked out of internet cafes by the police for connecting our laptop or making telephone calls. The police also had the habit of knocking on our hotel room door after we had gone to bed. They wanted to see our passports and fill out a form. There are many more stories to be told but for now I do not have time.
We loved China in many ways but are very happy to leave because of the government. I really feel sorry for the Chinese people, they can not leave. Someday I wish for them to all enjoy freedom as the rest of us do.
Tim
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大家都来看”九评共产党” ( VCD, 书)!
Let’s find “Nine Commentaries on the Communist Party”(VCD, books)!
快上大纪元声明退出共产党和共产党其它组织(/团/队)，抹去邪恶的印记!
Quit the Evil Chinese Communist Party or its affiliated organizations today!
